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#life achievement tribute
sincericida · 1 year
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11 years later, we got an amazing reunion with Aunt May & Peter Parker. Andrew Garfield presents Sally Field with the Lifetime Achievement Award at The 29th Annual Screen Actors Guild Awards SAG | February 26, 2023
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webtaleonline · 9 months
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Unveiling the Enigma: 15 Surprising Facts About Tony Bennett, King of the American Songbook
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pinchofhoney · 6 months
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broken promises, part three
« part one | part two | part three (the last one)
coriolanus snow x fem!reader
word count: 3.4k
warning: angst, we used to be close but people can go from people you know to people you don't, mention of helping in the rebellion
summary: In Snow's world, only one thing mattered more than his family's reputation—you. But that was before he met Lucy Gray.
a/n: so,, this is the end of this little story of a heartbreak. thank you for sticking with it<33 for more coriolanus content, feel free to drop by my inbox where you can leave your ideas for the next oneshots!!
pages that may interest you: masterlist ♡ taglist ♡ who i write for
taglist: @metalarmsandmanbuns @mavkaorlova @strangegril002 @thathoefromcollage
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gif is not mine, credit to the owner
You'd be lying if you pretended not to be invested in the 10th Hunger Games. With Academy students participating this year, you had no choice but to follow the competition's every twist and turn, but even if it had been different, you'd have still tuned in from your home's television screen.
Despite the heated exchanges and angry words directed at Coriolanus, your best wishes were always with him. You genuinely hoped for nothing but the best for him, believing he'd achieve the deserved success he'd strived for and reach his craved scholarship, a gateway to boundless opportunities. In your heart, you rooted for Lucy Gray Baird's victory, as that seemed to be the only path leading to Coriolanus's dreams coming true.
Seeing Coriolanus each day in his perfectly fitted Academy uniform, hiding behind a facade of indifference that he never pull off around anyone outside his inner circle, playing the part of the model student, brought you pain. He gave off the impression that your past relationship had left no mark on him, leaving you in the dark about his true emotions and what was going on within his mind for the first time.
You were aware that everyone in your class had picked up on the shift between you and Coriolanus, though they tactfully avoided discussing it openly. You appreciated their silent understanding; no one was prying, and it allowed you to avoid discussing the painful change that had taken place. You didn't owe anyone an explanation, but it was easier to bear the weight of the situation when it remained unspoken. It stung to know that some girl from the District now held a more important place in your boyfriend's heart than you, someone he had known since childhood and shared the darkest moments of his life with.
The breakup with Coriolanus hit you like someone’s death. When you returned to the family penthouse, tears flowed endlessly from your eyes, and you couldn't seem to stop them. The persistent crying left you dehydrated, lying on your bed, cocooned in a blanket, your eyes red and swollen, and a pounding headache. The idea of consuming even a morsel of food felt impossible, and every inch of your room was a constant reminder of the moments you had shared with Coriolanus.
At times, you really wanted to approach him, to take the blame, to apologize for reacting hastily and to tell him that you should have let him handle things. But he treated you as if you were transparent. He had to feel your gaze on him, yet he chose to act as if you didn't exist, focusing all his attention on the Arena's broadcast screens, eagerly awaiting Lucy Gray's appearance.
As soon as the victory of the tribute from the Twelfth District became evident, you leaped to your feet, a genuine smile lighting up your face. Joining in the cheers and applause of your friends, you felt an urge to rush towards Coriolanus, but the memory of his distant gaze held you back. You knew you were no longer part of his happiness, no longer someone he wanted to share joy with.
With a lump in your throat, you discreetly cleared it, glancing around at other students. They seemed too absorbed in their own celebrations to notice your abrupt outburst. And so, you continued clapping, though the enthusiasm had waned, and the smile on your lips had dimmed.
You watched as Festus and a few other students hoisted Coriolanus onto a chair and paraded him around the podium and when they eventually placed him back on the ground, he turned his gaze toward you for the first time since your break up.
It was a brief look, lacking the joy in his eyes from seconds ago, but tinged with sense of satisfaction. It was a satisfaction born from the unexpected outcome, a result opposite to your wish for him to lose.
Afterward, all the students were directed into the dining hall to celebrate Coriolanus's victory with cake and posca.
And no longer after, the boy simply disappeared, slipping away from the festivities.
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As the final echoes of the Games' noisy cheers faded away, an unsettling silence descended upon the Capitol, and your mind was left in a whirlwind of questions and concern. The explanation provided by the Academy for Coriolanus's sudden departure to one of the districts, where he was enlisting for as a Peacekeeper, seemed like an ill-fitting puzzle piece in his life.
You knew Coriolanus better than most, his ambitions, his dreams, his unrelenting pursuit of victory. This decision, so out of character, scratched at the corners of your consciousness like an itch you couldn't quite reach. The nagging sense that something was amiss and missing from the narrative was an ever-present companion, casting a shadow over your thoughts.
But the mystery didn't end with his sudden departure. The day following the Games' conclusion, it was as if someone had meticulously wiped away any trace of the event's existence. Records, footage, and even the very name Lucy Gray Baird were methodically excised from history's pages. The thoroughness of this situation left you in a state of bewildered disbelief. The memories and echoes of the Games, once so vivid, now seemed to have been cast into a gap of forgotten time.
Your mind was a whirlwind of questions, each one clamoring for answers, but you knew that the truth was hidden beyond your reach. In all of these Capitol secrets, you had no choice but to accept the narrative spun by Doctor Gaul and Dean Highbottom, even if it left you feeling like a mere puppet, dancing to their tune.
You just clung to the belief that Coriolanus was out there, safe, and somehow untouched by the Capitol's ominous machinations. You didn't know the real reason for his leaving, but thoughts of his comfort were your only solace.
You longed to see him again, not only because of the warmth of his presence, but also because of the secrets he could hold. Yet, deep down, you knew that even if he were to find his way back to the heart of Panem, you would likely be the last person on his list to seek out.
On a day that was just like any other, as the Capitol went about its business, you found yourself outside your penthouse. It was just another moment in your everyday routine, all you wanted was to go for a walk, enjoying the last few days before university starts, unaware of things that were about to happen.
You were lost in thought, just looking around the familiar place when suddenly, someone stepped into view and your heart stopped for what seemed like a split second. It was Coriolanus, no doubt about it, but he had changed more than you could have imagined. He used to have those distinctive curls, but now, his hair was much shorter. His whole presence felt more reserved. Even the way he carried himself seemed different from what you were used to. Something about his aura had shifted, and it was not the same energy you once knew, not even the one he usually projected to others. It was a subtle change, but it was there.
Upon realizing that he was heading towards your shared building, a mix of emotions surged within you. Surprise and happiness due to the sight of the person you had missed so intensely warred with the memories of his abrupt departure, and the months of estrangement.
As he drew closer, you couldn't help but hope for a friendly reunion. You wanted to forget the past and bridge the distance that had grown between the two of you, but the Coriolanus who now stood before you was colder, more distant than ever before.
His eyes, which once held warmth and familiarity when they met yours, now seemed to pass right through you, leaving you with an unsettling sense that the Coriolanus you once knew had changed into a stranger.
“Coryo?” you cautiously greeted him as he drew closer, employing the affectionate diminutive form of his name. “I didn't expect to meet you here.”
Your friendly approach fell upon a wall of silence, an awkward pause hanging heavily between you. The air seemed thick with unresolved tension, and you questioned whether you should have simply pretended not to notice him.
“Dean Highbottom mentioned that you departed for Twelve to join the Peacekeepers,” you continued, attempting to engage him in conversation. Your gaze remained intent on his, even as his bored expression showed little sign of interest. This was undoubtedly one of the most awkward moments of your life, and the hope of a warm reunion was fading with each passing second.
You couldn't help but inquire further, “Was it because of Lucy Gray?”
Upon the mention of the tribute girl's name, a subtle shift occurred in Coriolanus's demeanor. He raised his head slightly, his gaze narrowing and his jaw clenching. The unexpected reaction baffled you, and a crease of confusion formed between your brows as you tried to comprehend his change in demeanor.
“Lucy Gray is gone,” he stated, his words dripping with coldness and arrogance, once again underscoring the transformation in his character. The warmth and compassion that had once defined your interactions now felt like distant memories, leaving you in the stark shadow of your shared past.
“Gone?” you repeated. His statement was quite confusing, and you struggled to grasp its meaning.
Without offering any clarification, he continued his stride towards the building's entrance, as if your presence had become irrelevant to him. Desperate for answers that had slipped away form you for far too long, you reached out and gently grasped the sleeve of his shirt to stop him.
“Coryo, wait,” you begged, looking into his eyes for a flicker of the person you used to know. The frigid stare he returned sent a chill through your spine, but your curiosity pushed you forward. “What happened? After... well, after you disappeared.”
His gaze dipped to where your fingers held on to his shirt, and the tension between you grew palpable. When you finally let go, his eyes met yours once more, and he spoke in a voice that held a hint of gentleness. “Do you really want to know what happened?” he asked, tilting his head to the side. He maintained his distance, standing tall and appearing to gaze down at you.
You didn't particularly like this version of Coriolanus, but at the same time you couldn't back down now; you had yearned for this moment for months.
In response to his question, you offered a simple nod, a silent invitation for him to share. The silence hung between you, heavy and full of unspoken emotions. Coriolanus glanced around, checking for any unwelcome listeners nearby, before answering.
“I've been through a living hell,” he responded curtly, leaving a trail of unresolved questions lingering in the air, but before you could voice these unspoken thoughts, he continued.
“I was forced to follow relentless orders each day, enduring the scorching sun that left burns on my skin, and the agony of taking three lives,” he recounted, as if each experience weighed equally on his conscience. “And those damn songbirds... they're a nightmare. They can drive you to the brink of insanity.”
You sought answers in his eyes, searching for any glimmer of the person you had known, but what you found was far from the warmth and compassion you remembered. It was as if something within him had been replaced by a hint of disdain.
“She betrayed me,” he continued, his voice carrying the weight of bitter disappointment, before you had time to sort out the chaos in your head. “Just when I thought I could escape it all and start a new life without constantly looking over my shoulder, she chose to abandon me.”
“What do you mean, Coryo?” you questioned, your forehead creased with worry as you gazed into his eyes.
“I killed Sejanus Plinth,” he confessed. Your lips parted in shock, and without realizing it, you instinctively moved a step away, creating a physical gap between you and someone who had once been an open book. Now, it felt as though you knew nothing about him.
You had heard rumors of Sejanus Plinth's death, but the details were murky. The nature of Coriolanus and Sejanus's relationship had always been a subject of speculation, leaving people to wonder whether they were genuine friends or just collagues. Coriolanus had occasionally expressed his frustration with Sejanus to you, but you had never imagined he would go as far as to take such a drastic step.
Coriolanus seemed oblivious to your reaction, his words continuing in a torrent of frustration. “But he deserved it. He could have listened to me and followed the rules for once. Instead, he chose to be a rebel, wanting to play the savior of the districts. That's how rebels end up,” his words were like shards of ice, driven by a wrath you had never seen in him before.
“I killed people who threatened her. I killed those who could be dangerous to Lucy Gray,” Coriolanus murmured. You gazed into his empty eyes as he continued and a sense of dread creeped over you. “And in return, she betrayed me, willing to see me suffer the same fate as Sejanus,” he said with a heavy sigh, shaking his head. “I couldn't let that happen. I couldn't risk being caught when I was mere hours away from leaving this wretched district.”
Your world seemed to crumble under the weight of his shocking confession. The inhumanity of his actions left you speechless, but Coriolanus appeared unaffected by your stunned silence.
He took a step closer, diminishing the gap between you, and you fought the urge to move back or look away from his piercing eyes.
“I'll make them all pay for it,” he declared with a small, unsettling smirk tugging at his lips. There was something in that expression that scared you, and now you were sure the boy standing in front of you was not the Coriolanus you had grown up with. “Every last one of them,” he added, presumably referring to the district residents with disdain.
With those words hanging in the air, he turned and disappeared behind the door of the apartment building, leaving you in a state of confusion and fear.
Many times, as you lay in bed at night, you often found yourself imagining the chance to see Coriolanus again. You wished that somehow, things could go back to the way they used to be, and that the warmth you once shared might return. But, the version of the man you just had a chance to look in the eyes filled you with nothing but fear now.
He seemed colder than his very name.
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64 YEARS LATER
The underground room was dimly lit, the soft glow of a single overhead bulb casting elongated shadows on the faces gathered around the table. Maps, documents, and a tactical board cluttered the space, a visual representation of the Rebellion's intricate plans. The tension in the room was palpable, and when you walked in with a woman who bore a striking resemblance to a tiger in her appearance, the rebels shared uncertain, questioning looks.
Katniss, her unmistakable braided hair and fierce gaze, was the first to break the silence. Her voice cut through the tension like a blade, “Why are you doing this?”
Her eyes bore into yours with a mix of curiosity and concern, and you felt a dozen pairs of eyes in the room fixate on you. “Risking your life to help us take down Snow?”
You inhaled a quivering breath when the memories and thoughts weighing heavily upon your chest. In your mind, a series of images flashed – a time when Snow had been had been a very different person. You paused for a moment, your thoughts returning to the Coriolanus you had once been so familiar with. The recollection painted a vivid picture of Coryo as you remembered him: his charming smile, which he had once reserved solely for you, and his distinctive, curly hair.
“I'm doing this,” you began, your voice tinged with pain and longing, “because I used to know him very well.” You deliberately used the diminutive form of his name that had once been so familiar to you, “Coryo. We were close, once.”
The room fell silent, and a myriad of emotions passed over the faces of those assembled. Your words seemed to have caught them off guard, and you could sense their curiosity and concern.
“We were in a relationship, but he's not the person I once loved anymore. This Snow, the one we're fighting against now, is a monster. He's not the Coryo I knew. He deserves the worst.”
Peeta, who sat beside Katniss, let out a sigh, and his eyes held a profound understanding. His gaze, a clear blue in the dim light, softened as he looked at you.
“Sometimes people change,” Peeta said, his voice gentle. “I've seen it happen before.”
Katniss's expression hardened with resolve, her determination unwavering. “He's going to regret everything he has done in his life,” she said.
As Katniss's words hung in the air, you felt a wave of knotty emotions churning within you. Your gaze drifted downward to the shelter's dirt floor, where the tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to overflow. For years, you had yearned for justice to be served to Coriolanus, for him to face the consequences of his oppressive rule over Panem. It had been a sincere desire, one that had simmered in your heart, yet now, with the Rebellion's cause so close to success, you found yourself grappling with a bewildering conflict.
Coriolanus had long disregarded you, deeming you unworthy of his attention and companionship. He had tear your connection, but it didn't mean that you had forgotten the feelings you had once for him.
It was his treatment of those who still loved him, the suffering of his cousin Tigris, who had been a close friend of yours, that weighed on your heart. She had selflessly helped Coriolanus throughout the war, supported him during his first mentorship and long after, but his attitude toward her changed with each passing year, and you couldn't understand why.
Over the years, Coriolanus had allowed the Hunger Games to evolve into something even more grotesque and brutal, making even bigger spectacle out of the tributes' deaths. It had been a source of disgust, a reflection of his growing cruelty. You were repulsed by the Capitol, sickened by Snow's insatiable thirst for power and the desire to see him removed from his seat of authority had been a driving force.
Yet, something within you was blocking your resolve, sowing seeds of doubt and uncertainty. The conflict within your heart was a huge storm, with one part pulling you toward the rebellion and the other tethered to a past that still held the remains of the Coriolanus you had once known, loved, and miss.
But that boy from your youth was a distant memory, swallowed by the Coriolanus who had emerged over the years, especially during his time in the Twelfth District shortly after his victory in the Games.
You raised your eyes to meet Katniss's, and in that moment, your mind drifted to Lucy Gray Baird, an ironic twist of fate that wasn't lost on you.
As Katniss observed your internal struggle, her sharp instincts sensed that there was more to your hesitancy than met the eye. She furrowed her brows, her gaze unwavering, and asked, “Is there something else you would like to share?”
Peeta, who had been observing you quietly, echoed her concern with a compassionate look in his eyes. His gentle tone conveyed understanding as he said, “You can talk to us, you know. We've all had our reasons for joining this fight.”
Your throat felt constricted, and you struggled to find your voice amidst the chaos of emotions. With a hurried swallow and a deep breath to steady yourself, you cleared your throat and shook your head. You offered a smile, though it felt forced and inadequate for the gravity of the moment, as you moved closer to the table filled with scattered papers.
“So what’s the plan?” you asked, attempting to shift the focus away from you. Your eyes darted around the faces of those gathered around the tabletop, eager to immerse yourself in the cause, to be part of the solution to the crisis at hand.
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saraswritingtipps · 10 months
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Ways to hit your readers in the gut
When it comes to writing, there's a profound and mesmerizing way to touch your readers deep within their souls. It's about crafting moments that hit them in the gut, stirring up intense emotions and forging an everlasting connection. Here are some techniques to help you achieve this:
1. Unexpected Loss: Introduce a character who captures hearts, only to snatch them away suddenly. Think of J.K. Rowling's "Harry Potter" series, where the abrupt departure of beloved characters like Sirius Black and Fred Weasley leaves readers shattered, their grief a testament to the power of storytelling.
2. Sacrifice for a Cause: Show a character willingly sacrificing their own happiness or even their life for a greater purpose. Suzanne Collins' "The Hunger Games" portrays Katniss Everdeen's selflessness, volunteering as a tribute to save her sister, evoking empathy and admiration.
3. Unrequited Love: Explore the agony of unrequited love, where hearts ache and souls yearn. Charlotte Brontë's "Jane Eyre" delves into the bittersweet and heart-wrenching tale of Jane's unfulfilled affection for Mr. Rochester, resonating with readers who have experienced the profound depths of unrequited longing.
4. Betrayal by a Loved One: Peel back the layers of trust to reveal the sting of betrayal. George R.R. Martin's "A Song of Ice and Fire" series delivers shocking betrayals that shatter readers' expectations, leaving them stunned and heartbroken alongside the characters.
5. Overcoming Personal Demons: Illuminate the struggle against internal conflicts, be it addiction, guilt, or haunting trauma. Anthony Doerr's "All the Light We Cannot See" explores Werner's moral compass during wartime, captivating readers as they witness his battle for redemption and personal growth.
6. Injustice and Oppression: Shed light on the injustices characters endure, igniting empathy and inspiring change. Harper Lee's "To Kill a Mockingbird" reveals the racial prejudice faced by Tom Robinson, awakening readers to the urgent need for justice and equality.
7. Parent-Child Relationships: Navigate the intricate tapestry of emotions between parents and children. Khaled Hosseini's "The Kite Runner" unearths the complexities of the father-son bond, evoking a myriad of feelings, from longing and regret to hope for reconciliation.
8. Final Farewells: Craft poignant scenes where characters bid farewell, whether due to death or separation. Markus Zusak's "The Book Thief" gifts readers with heartbreaking partings amidst the backdrop of World War II, leaving an indelible mark of loss and the fragile beauty of human connections.
9. Personal Transformation: Illuminate characters' growth through adversity, offering a beacon of hope and inspiration. Charles Dickens' "A Christmas Carol" narrates Ebenezer Scrooge's extraordinary journey from a bitter miser to a beacon of compassion, reminding readers that redemption and personal change are within reach.
10. Existential Questions: Delve into existential themes that provoke deep introspection. Albert Camus' "The Stranger" challenges readers to ponder the meaning of life through Meursault's detached and nihilistic worldview, prompting them to question their own existence.
With these techniques, you have the power to touch your readers' souls, leaving an indelible impression. Remember to weave these moments seamlessly into your narrative, allowing them to enrich your characters and themes. Let your words resonate and ignite emotions, for that is the essence of impactful storytelling.
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pucksandpower · 1 year
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IN MY BLOOD
Y/N SENNA x CHARLES LECLERC
Series Masterlist // Previous Part // Next Part
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PART I: Level Up
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y/nsenna
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Liked by bugattiracing, f1, and 1,372,865 others
y/nsenna Today my heart soars with overwhelming joy and gratitude. It is with immeasurable excitement that I announce signing my first Formula 1 contract with Bugatti Racing.
This moment is not just about me, it is a tribute to the trailblazing women who shattered barriers in motorsport and paved the way for this incredible opportunity. To those fearless heroes who dared to challenge conventions and fought against all odds, I am forever indebted. Your courage has lit a fire within me that will burn fiercely on every lap.
As I enter this next adventure, I carry with me the spirit and legacy of my father. His passion for racing, unwavering determination, and undying love for the sport continue to guide my every move. Today, I make a solemn promise to him: I will give my all, every single race, and honor the Senna name with everything I have.
Papai, I wish you were here to witness this exciting chapter in my life. Your footsteps echo in my heart, and I know you are watching over me, pushing me forward, and whispering words of encouragement in the wind. I hear your voice guiding me every time I get in the cockpit. I hope to make you proud, to show the world the legacy we carry, and to inspire others to chase their dreams relentlessly.
I am immensely honored and filled with gratitude as I express my heartfelt thanks to Bugatti Racing, my incredible team, and the Bugatti Driver Academy, which has been instrumental in shaping my development until this remarkable moment. It is through their unfaltering belief in my potential and their tireless support that I stand here today, ready to embark on this incredible journey in Formula 1. Bugatti Racing, with its rich history and unwavering commitment to excellence, has provided me with an opportunity of a lifetime, and I am determined to seize it with both hands. With Bugatti Racing and the Bugatti Driver Academy behind me, I am ready to push boundaries, defy expectations, and make an impact on and off the track. Thank you for believing in me. Together, we will write an extraordinary chapter in motorsport history.
To my incredible fans, friends, and family, thank you for standing by me throughout this incredible journey. Your unwavering support has been my driving force. This is just the beginning of a thrilling ride, and I am beyond grateful for every moment, every challenge, and every victory that lies ahead. The road may be long, but together, we will conquer it.
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lewishamilton Congratulations on your incredible achievement! It is a pleasure to welcome you to the F1 family. Your father was a true legend and my idol, and I have no doubt that you will make him proud. Looking forward to competing with you on the track!
hamilfan Lewis’ acknowledgement means a lot! We should be in for some epic battles 👀
gisele Parabéns, querida! Your journey is just beginning, and I can't wait to see you conquer the F1 tracks. Your father's spirit lives on and I'm sure he's beaming with pride from above ❤️
speedchaser She's carrying on the Senna legacy with so much passion! Can't wait to see what she can do in F1
massafelipe Bem-vinda à família da Fórmula 1! It's an honor to have you on the grid, carrying on your father's legacy. Wish you the best of luck and many podium finishes ahead! Go out there and make Brazil proud 🇧🇷
brazilianrocket Massa knows what it takes to make Brazil proud and his support speaks volumes. Brazil is with Y/N all the way!
neymarjr Parabéns, garota! A new star is born in the world of racing. Keep pushing limits, breaking barriers, and chasing greatness. Wishing you a successful and thrilling journey ahead 🏆
sportingbrazil This is huge! Two young Brazilian icons in their respective fields lifting each other up. They’re both going to be something special 👏
adrianalima Congratulations, darling! You are an inspiration to so many women around the world. May you continue to shine bright ☀️ Keep chasing dreams and breaking barriers!
girlypower Adriana is an inspiration to so many and now we have another role model to look up to! What an amazing milestone
bsennaofficial I couldn't be prouder! Your talent and dedication are unmatched. Keep pushing and make our family name even brighter! Love you ❤️
racetrackhero Incredible to see the Senna name continue to shine on the F1 stage 🙌
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2012 Monaco Grand Prix — Wednesday Press Conference
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Comments
⤷ What a phenomenal achievement! So proud to see a talented young woman like her breaking barriers in the world of F1. Wishing her all the success!
⤷ This is just a publicity stunt. She's only getting this opportunity because of her famous last name, not her talent.
⤷ This is a fantastic step forward for diversity and equality in motorsport. It's inspiring to see her following in her father's footsteps.
⤷ I highly doubt she has what it takes to compete at the highest level. F1 requires exceptional skill and experience.
⤷ Such a talented and determined driver! Can't wait to witness her skills on the track and watch history being made. The future of F1 is bright!
⤷ Women don't belong in F1. It's a male-dominated sport for a reason. This is just political correctness gone too far.
⤷ Congratulations to her on this amazing opportunity! A new generation of talent is emerging and she's leading the way. Rooting for her every step of the way!
⤷ She's going to be a liability on the track. F1 is a dangerous sport and I just don't think she can handle the pressure.
⤷ I'm not impressed. There are more deserving drivers out there who have worked hard and earned their way into F1. This feels like a token gesture.
⤷ It's so exciting to see the Senna legacy continue. She's going to bring a fresh perspective and a new wave of enthusiasm to the sport. I followed her closely in Formula Renault and I’m looking forward to her F1 debut!
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imusticaniwill · 4 months
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A Beautiful Story of Life
Shared with me by a friend.
The first day of school our professor introduced himself and challenged us to get to know someone we didn’t already know.
I stood up to look around when a gentle hand touched my shoulder. I turned round to find a wrinkled, little old lady beaming up at me
with a smile that lit up her entire being.
She said, “Hi handsome. My name is Rose. I’m eighty-seven years old. Can I give you a hug?”
I laughed and enthusiastically responded, “Of course you may!” and she gave me a giant squeeze.
“Why are you in college at such a young, innocent age?” I asked.
She jokingly replied, “I’m here to meet a rich husband, get married, and have a couple of kids…”
“No seriously,” I asked. I was curious what may have motivated her to be taking on this challenge at her age.
“I always dreamed of having a college education and now I’m getting one!” she told me.
After class we walked to the student union building and shared a chocolate milkshake. We became instant friends. Every day for the
next three months, we would leave class together and talk nonstop. I was always mesmerized listening to this “time machine” as she shared her wisdom and experience with me.
Over the course of the year, Rose became a campus icon and she easily made friends wherever she went. She loved to dress up and she reveled in the attention bestowed upon her from the other students. She was living it up.
At the end of the semester we invited Rose to speak at our football banquet. I’ll never forget what she taught us.
She was introduced and stepped up to the podium. As she began to deliver her prepared speech, she dropped her three by five cards on the floor. Frustrated and a little embarrassed she leaned into the microphone and simply said, “I’m sorry I’m so jittery. I gave up beer for Lent and this whiskey is killing me! I’ll never get my speech back in order so let me just tell you what I know.”
As we laughed she cleared her throat and began, “We do not stop playing because we are old; we grow old because we stop playing.
There are only four secrets to staying young, being happy, and achieving success. You have to laugh and find humor every day. You’ve got to have a dream. When you lose your dreams, you die. We have so many people walking around who are dead and don’t even know it!There is a huge difference between growing older and growing up.
If you are nineteen years old and lie in bed for one full year and don’t do one productive thing, you will turn twenty years old.
If I am eighty-seven years old and stay in bed for a year and never do anything I will turn eighty-eight.
Anybody can grow older. That doesn’t take any talent or ability. The idea is to grow up by always finding opportunity in change.
Have no regrets.
The elderly usually don’t have regrets for what we did, but rather for things we did not do. The only people who fear death are those with regrets.”
She concluded her speech by courageously singing “The Rose.”
She challenged each of us to study the lyrics and live them out in our daily lives.
At the year’s end Rose finished the college degree she had begun all those years ago. One week after graduation Rose died peacefully in her sleep.
Over two thousand college students attended her funeral in tribute to the wonderful woman who taught by example that it’s never too late to be all you can possibly be.
These words have been passed along in loving memory of ROSE.
REMEMBER, GROWING OLDER IS MANDATORY. GROWING UP IS OPTIONAL.
“We make a Living by what we get, We make a Life by what we give.”
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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐰𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞.
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𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈𝐈𝐈. 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃-𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒.
pairing: coriolanus snow x toxic!fem!reader
summary: someone always throw a spanner in her works, to achieve her biggest dream —being coriolanus’ lover, wife and claiming power. luckily, y/n is not on the loser side when it comes to playing. 
trigger warnings (overall): mastermind!reader, toxic!reader (for real, she’s doing nasty things), reader’s family is a bit fucked up, reader is obsessed with coriolanus snow, lying, swearing, blood, violence, killing people, hunger games stuff, i just love volumnia gaul, reader hates lucy gray and everybody who’s around coriolanus, mental health problems mentioned such as psychotism, domestic violence mentioned, drugs, mention of sexual fantasies. 
trigger warnings (in this part): toxic!reader, reader meets lucy gray for the first time, reader hates arachne, DEATH, blood, cruelty against people, reader is obsessed with coriolanus snow, lying, swearing, unhealthy body image, drugs, SMUT, p in v, fingering, poorly written smut.  
prologue. part 1. part 2.
y/n squirmed on the inside. 
it was strange, but not unusual. y/n always squirmed when she went to the zoo, seeing animals in locked cages was not her kind of pleasure. it didn’t help that the media was there too, so she had to play nice in front of everyone. probably she could never warn lucy gray, not to mention that in front of coriolanus. if she ever said a word about executing her from the picture in any sort of ways, lucy gray was surely the tricky bitch who would spill it to him. and that was the last thing she needed. y/n sighed, blinking a couple of times before she turned to the grid of the cage the tributes were held –being nice to not to get unveiled was truly a tiring thing. but at least, lucy gray wasn’t the one who got to go to dinner with coriolanus. no, not on her watch. 
“are you feeling okay, y/n?” did she look not okay? that can’t be possible. even if her uterus were eating her up and her corset tried to pierce her ribcage, y/n’s rule that she should never look like a damsel in distress, she just shook her head. 
“everything’s fine, corio. will you introduce me to lucy gray?” 
so here we go. 
safe to say, lucy gray was pretty good looking. y/n had to admit this, she could state anything about anybody, but being pretty was really objective, based on the standards. of course, not as good- and well-looking as someone from the capitol, anyone could always judge if a person was from the capitol or one of the districts. even people from the first and second district were much more… chav. lucy gray was skinny, underfed and messy, how could she ever compare with y/n? nevertheless, she had to make sure that lucy gray doesn’t think of herself as though she believed she was. it was important for het to not become a main character in her game. y/n saw the whole world as a big, never-ending set of games, because it was, depending on how seriously people took it. because in the world, there were many games. games about money, about power, about life and death, and about control. and lucy gray wasn’t the one who had connections. but now wasn’t the time to beef, if lucy gray blows off at the games, coriolanus will never get the plinth-prize, and y/n didn’t had that much time and space to find out something for that, too. so lucy gray had to survive. y/n just had to make sure that the end justifies the means, and she was nothing but a tool to get money and power. 
sejanus was already showing food for marcus. shit, sejanus… y/n’s mind was bugging, she still didn’t know what to do with him. if her game was a table of chess and coriolanus was the rook on the table, then sejanus was the queen… or the king. he could take a simple checkmate on all of her moves, no matter what. yes, sejanus was following coriolanus with getting food to his tribute, but only one bad move from him was enough to screw up all of her plans. and sure, he had noble parents, and he could pull out his head from the hook, but not coriolanus. and against the fact with the two being good friends, blood was still thicker than water. 
“lucy gray, this is my good friend, y/n y/l/n.” and his soon-to-be wife and lover. 
“hello, y/n.” act casual, act natural. don’t talk about feeling sorry for fucking around the mayor’s daughter and her lover, this isn’t announced. never let them know you did research all night. 
“hi, lucy gray. how are you feeling? probably… not so good because of this cage.”
“i’m pretty fine, thank you. just hungry a little bit.” 
“oh, i brought you food. y/n and i thought about getting you food.”
“yes. you have to be strong for the games.” if you dare to die, i’m going to kill you myself. how could anybody do this small talk for so long? words didn’t came into her mouth, she wasn’t the type who could talk for hours about nothing. there were days when she was alone with the maids in the house, or upstairs, and she didn’t talk for days if nobody bothered her. 
“thank you so much.” lucy gray whispered, taking the cookie, offering one to her. y/n looked at the cookie, then her. looking at the cameras, she shook her head. eating a cookie with a tribute? if somebody sees this, she will be treated equally as the other students, and she won't let it. she was now a working woman, one of the workers of volumnia gaul, what would she say if she saw this? 
“oh, no… i can’t eat cookies. i just had breakfast.” she wasn't in the mood to eat cookies with this girl, watching how arachne played with her tribute was more interesting. 
“you said you skipped breakfast because you slept in.” looking at coriolanus, y/n slapped herself in her mind. her bleeding days were killing her brain, and no medicine could make her concentrate enough. 
“uhm, yeah, but i ate at work. really, we bought the cookies and the food for you, so–” what the fuck was with her? were the pills she took yesterday night too strong? 
“y/n, did you eat or not?” coriolanus’ question and his worried face made her… satisfied. not because he was worrying about her, but because he was busy with her. y/n blinked up, shrugging her shoulders. thinking about he’s gonna be worried about her when they’re gonna be a couple, even pregnant, it was pure pleasure. 
“it’s alright, corio. i will eat when i get home, and i will eat at night, on our date.” she whispered, audible enough to lucy gray. holding his hand, she hoped she reassured her. “really, it’s nothing. let’s… care about lucy gray, she’s your tribute.” 
as coriolanus crouched down to her, y/n wanted to do the same, but lucretius flickerman was faster, approaching her with his loyal cameramen. 
“...and what a surprise that we are seeing a true noble, a noble from the noble, y/n y/l/n! tell me, how are you here?” he asked, y/n tried not to look into the camera as he almost showed the microphone into her mouth. 
“i just accompanied coriolanus and the others from the school. as well as they’re his friends and classmates, they’re my friends, too.” 
“how cute! tell me y/n, if you could bet on one of the tributes, perhaps even supporting them, who would you choose?” tricky question, tricky question! if everybody sees this, hyping up coriolanus wasn’t a bad idea. 
“i think… it’s a good question. some of them, such as marcus and lucy gray. i think they’re good. marcus seems strong, and lucy gray… she surely knows more than just singing.” she wanted to punch the cameramen, everybody could surely see how white her teeth were. 
“it’s really interesting… also, we heard a rumor that you work with volumnia gaul now. is it interesting to see how the games improve?” trying not to furrow her eyebrows, y/n looked at lucretius. 
“my work at dr. gaul and everything that happens there is strictly confidential. i can’t say anything about the games, but it’s gonna be really entertaining.” 
“thank you so much, lady y/l/n! now, let’s see how–” 
clunk! the sounds of iron and glass clashing catched the showman’s ears too, looking into the direction. y/n couldn’t decide to laugh or look terrified at the sight of the blood that was mounting from arachne’s neck. standing at the grid of the cage, she saw as coriolanus hurried to help arachne. he was still running to help her, a really, really good man… y/n knew why she loved him. 
“what the hell happened?” lucy gray whispered to her, making her shake out from her state. looking at her, y/n clenched her jaw. 
“i’m going there. stay away from that girl who stabbed her.” 
stepping to the scene, y/n crouched down too, caring about not touching the soiled ground with her silk skirt, wondering about the color of the blood. a big pool, arachne’s life. one hand still around the bottle, she was smart enough to keep it in, but she couldn’t like with a broken bottle in her neck forever! sardonic slut, making jokes of everyone, licking up and kicking down. i know you talked about me when i wasn’t near, calling me a psycho, and that i was my parent’s pet and mentally disabled for being a private student. the truth is, i never could stand that perfidious snake-face of yours. how could you ever face the mirror in the morning without breaking it with your eyesight? without spitting on yourself? 
“y/n, what are we gonna do?” coriolanus asked her. his hands were shaking, one at her neck. she brushed arachne’s hair, trying to patch up the blood with her handkerchief, wiping her eyes like she was crying. everybody was rushing from them and the cage, peacekeepers were surrounding them. 
“i don’t know, dear… i am so sorry, arachne was such a good friend of yours…” 
“somebody help, please!” he cried out, making her look away, to the exact point as one of the men shot the stabbing tribute girl in the stomach. well, at least lucy gray didn’t have to worry about her any longer. “what the fuck is happening, y/n?” 
“i don’t know, i don’t know!” she knew exactly. just as the peacekeepers grabbed coriolanus’ and her arm to drag them away, y/n signed them to let her go. “i just… i just want to look at her, please, for the last time.” 
“you only got one minute. your little friend stays here.” 
stepping over arachne’s body, she lowered down to see the light gone from arachne’s eyes. as her hair covered her face, y/n tried to press down the smile as she thought about her list. look at you, arachne… mocking everybody, and now you became the prey? deep down, you wanted to die like this, didn’t you? as a victim. so everybody can forget how sordid you are. nobody will ever know the truth about what you did, playing with that filthy girl’s food, what did you think she will do? jump around and beg for you? now, everybody only can say how clever and beauty you were, how hard you tried to get the fucking plinth prize, cracking their hands as they look at each other at your funeral. nobody will ask why the girl stabbed you, thanks to the contrary of the capitol and the districts, but hey, that’s why we love being distinguished, isn’t it? and don’t worry, i’ll keep your secrets, and you don’t even have to thank me crane, because i am a good friend. a really good one. 
reaching for her eyelids, y/n slowly pulled them down. she was never near a dead body, and the thought of it disgusted her a little bit. she wasn’t a killer, she was… a gamer. a really good one. the blood almost spilled on her shoes, how filthy. 
turning back to coriolanus as they walked out, she leant her head on his shoulder. instantly thinking about the date, would it be morbid to kiss upon their dead friend’s corpse? arachne has nothing to do with this. well, she had nothing to do with this. 
“are you okay, dear?” she asked from him, looking up to him. 
“yes, it’s just… i still can’t perceive what happened. and you, are you okay?” coriolanus muttered as they sat down on one of the benches in the park. cars were honking, wheels clashing against the gravel; the ambulance arrived. a hearse could be better, but y/n couldn’t blame them. it was strange to see clemensia and arachne get out of the picture, they were sidekicks for too long. 
“i am okay, thanks.” 
“you just saw her dying, and went back, why did you do that?” looking at him, coriolanus shook his head. “i’m sorry y/n, i shouldn’t ask you that, it’s just… i was so terrified, maybe i am still right now.” 
“i just… wanted to say goodbye. arachne was a little bit mocky all the time, but… she was a friend. a good one.” her sound was a little bit catatonic in her head, all the time she told a lie. 
“you are right. sorry for asking this, really, i didn’t have the spirit to go back there.” 
“don’t worry, corio. maybe she shouldn’t play with that girl… you know how cruel the games can be.”
“you are right, y/n. the games are stressful for everybody.” y/n nodded, reaching for his hand. 
“do you have the stomach for tonight? i know this is horrible, but… maybe we can get each other into a better mood.” 
looking at her, she tried to smile a little bit. not a too big, unnatural smile compared to the fact that somebody just died, and not even a poker face like she didn’t fucking care about what happened. 
“of course i have the stomach, it would be my pleasure, y/n. i just have to go home to change.” coriolanus answered, making y/n truly, truly happy. 
“it’s really good to hear.” 
a death is one thing, but the future is another. 
she had to make the move, arachne’s death could slow down things. hortensia pulled her hair a little bit, curling it with little clips, swirling her locks around heated sticks. this night had to be perfect, exactly because of what happened. running through her eyebrows with a clipper, she looked at the clock –she had still an hour, her clothes laid on her bed. 
“you are gonna be so beautiful, miss y/l/n.” the maid praised her as she lined her eyebrows, spraying perfume on her wrists and behind her ears. morphia did the same when she was meeting timothé, and they were together, didn’t they? rubbing nacre powder over her eyelids, she was ready. 
“could you pull my corset tighter, hortensia? please.” standing up, she held onto the pillar of her bed. 
“are you sure, miss y/l/n? i’m afraid that–”
“i am sure, hortensia. we will be afraid if coriolanus snow won't like my appearance.” 
it was painful. feeling her bowels sticking together, framed by her bones that dug into her stomach and lungs, but at least she looked desirable. 
“are you feeling alright, miss y/l/n?” 
“of course, i’m fine. thank you.” she muttered as the maid helped her pick up the clothes. a red dress, slightly slit up but not too long to look like a prostitute, a couple of black heels, not too high to fall in them. suddenly the door creaked, it was her mother. a glass of wine in her hand, she leaned on the doorframe, a silly smile on her face. 
“look at my little girl, hortensia. isn’t she beautiful and adorable?” she asked, making the maid turn to her. 
“she’s beautiful, lady y/l/n.” 
“she already told me that, mommy.” y/n muttered, a little bit annoyed at the fact that her mother looked up and down on her like a piece of meat. sure, everybody always measured her like she was one, but her own family could at least have a little dignity for each other. 
“it’s natural that you are stressed. is that a corset on you?” lorelei asked, placing down her cup to brush out the dress, the wrinkles on the waist area were long gone. 
“thanks.” y/n responded. 
“i was just as terrified as you before i met your father, i can tell you, y/n. but it went well, because the three of you are here, aren’t you?” she giggled, making y/n roll her eyes. 
“don’t you have to watch the tv, mommy?” she turned to her as hortensia cleaned her shoes. 
“i know you don’t want me here, my dear. and it’s perfectly fine that you want to concentrate on your little date today.” it’s not only a stupid little date, it’s the whole matter of my future. “also, i know that you want to marry coriolanus snow, but honey, is he really worth it?” 
y/n turned, crouching in front of her mother; holding her hand as hortensia walked out, she knew her more than her mother. y/n could bear many things, but questioning her love was the main thing that set her mind on fire. looking at the place her mother stood only a couple of minutes ago, the hole of the butter knife got her eyesight. she looked like her mother too much, staring at her was like staring at the life she could get, but so much better. 
“mommy, please. if you want to question me, talk with father about it. otherwise, never doubt me, ever.” talking with long, stiff words, y/n brushed her mother’s hand. “do you understand me?” 
for a moment, she thought that her mother was gonna slap her, but instead, lorelei giggled. as she searched for her glass. 
“you are much more determined than morphia, my dear. i hope your date will go well, the chauffeur is yours tonight. if snow comes too, then… don’t make much noise. your father won't be here tonight anyway, but i’d like to get some sleep.” she said, turning out on the door, closing it. hortensia asked if she could come in, making y/n nod. looking onto the picture where she and coriolanus stood, she didn’t even realize her heart was nearly beating out of her ribcage. picking up her white, snow-like stole, spraying perfume on herself, hortensia straightened her dress, escorting her down the stairs. 
the place coriolanus offered wasn’t a big deal, but that’s what she needed. as long as they could talk without one of her father’s workers or her mother’s friends interrupting them, it was fine. helping her take off her stole and pull out the chair for her like a gentleman, y/n asked for an easy meal. not being able to think with a full stomach was one point of that, but the other was the meaning of the meal. watching his father’s guests taught her that when somebody wanted to have breakfast, lunch, dinner or even a fucking tea party, it wasn’t about food, no. food was just the cloak to cover up nasty things. 
“are you feeling alright?” coriolanus asked her as they got their food. y/n dug into hers, then looked up at him, smiling. he didn’t look like a half-god; he looked like apollo himself. the dim light sculpted his cheeks and his lips, y/n wanted to dig into his hair between two messy kisses, and although she was a virgin, she could imagine how it was like to have him thrust into her, giving out the animal-like noises she remembered in her dreams. 
“of course, this is a really lovely place. i am so happy that we are here, i wanted to do this for so long.” she answered, placing down her fork as she held his hand. 
“for so long? how long, y/n?” he teasingly smiled, making y/n look away. for a lifetime, baby. 
“from the moment… you helped me up in the hall of the college.” 
“so from the moment we first met?” 
“no, we met before! i…” will the truth hurt him? “...i noticed you at a dinner we attended with my family.” she was fourteen, and coriolanus moved things in her like nobody else. probably that was the time when the chemicals in her brain made her difficult, nearly banging her head against the wall as she couldn’t even understand herself.
“which one?” 
“two years ago.” a little lie couldn’t hurt anybody. 
“it’s gonna surprise you, but… i noticed you too, y/n. i wanted to talk to you, but you had to escort your sister, and my grandma said that it’s not appropriate.” 
“really? that’s so… inevitable, don’t you think?”
“i don’t know about these things so much, y/n. but i think you are so beautiful.” 
“thank you so much. you look also handsome, coriolanus. and… i want to talk about something, something that… can really, really influence our future.” 
“really?” he asked, making y/n slightly lift her eyebrows. oh god, be not only a fling, y/n. 
“yes, of course! you know, my family takes marriage really seriously, and…” seeing the slight worry on his face, y/n held his hand again. “i really don’t want to rush you, my dear. it’s just, my father gave his blessing when i told him that we are going on a date.” well, he’s not really, but he will. cyril will even thank her when she’s gonna be the first lady of panem. 
“that’s wonderful, y/n! you know, i’d never guess that, because, you know… how me and my family, and my father–”
“corio, please. what happened in the past didn’t depend on you. it was a real, gigantic catastrophe.” those wankers took everything away from us. “who would have guessed what’s gonna happen with the thirteenth district? your family bet on the wrong horse, but sometimes, it happens.” 
“i know, but it’s still my job to get money to help my family.” coriolanus answered, taking a sip from his wine. “you know, y/n, this plinth-prize thing is tiring me out as hell, and i really don’t know what to do. it can seem like i’m in control, but all i see are walls and i keep clashing into them. i knew i had a big chance to get that prize, and i hoped that things would turn out in a good way, but… i don’t know, it’s like a curse.” 
y/n nodded, leaning on her hands, brushing the ring on her middle finger. her ring finger was reserved from the moment she saw coriolanus. 
“i hope i’m not boring you, y/n, but–”
“no, of course you don’t! it is my pleasure that you share your concerns with me, although i can’t do much. i wanted to offer my help, but things happened too fast, and volumnia has eyes everywhere. i still don’t know what she’s going to think about today, when i lucretius asked me up. being asked before cameras is not my type.” 
“don’t worry, i don’t like him either. but he’s gonna present the whole games, so i have to get used to it.” 
“you will, my dear, and i have no doubts about that.” she smiled, eating some more. trying to get her foot more comfortable as the heels burned her soles, she accidentally knocked into coriolanus’ legs, making her look up at him. “oh my, sorry, it’s just…”
“don’t worry, y/n. does your feet hurt in those heels? i can’t comprehend that even when tigris are wearing them, they look awful to walk in.” 
“no, it’s perfectly fine.” noble people doesn’t have to dig in the mine or sweat in the factories, but as hard to swallow a pill, the hard work is still their task –redistribution between districts and control all the twelve districts are really hard, while they have to wear uncomfortable shoes and suits, smiling every time even if the question is the most humiliating shit ever. deep down everyone in every district knew that if the capitolium lashed out, there wouldn’t be the slightest hope of survival.
“if you say so… and, how is the work with volumnia?”
“well, i can’t tell you secrets, but… she’s pretty okay.” she’s an animal. she would be ready anytime to pull my stomach out through my throat if i’d tell anything about what’s going inside there. “her ways are interesting, i admit that, nevertheless, she’s a mastermind.” 
“i’d like to work beside a mastermind, or to talk with a mastermind.” silly boy, he was already dating with one right now. but even y/n didn’t know that. she never knew any other mindset than hers. 
after dinner, coriolanus paid and helped her out of the restaurant. the city lights were dim and almost turned off, but the night didn’t end, not for them. 
“thank you, corio. this was a lovely, lovely night.” she whispered, putting her hand on his shoulder as they stood before each other. she imagined as they stepped out from even such a little restaurant, photos flashing around them, people admiring them as they sat in the car to go home to a big castle or mansion. 
“thank you for coming, y/n. and give my greetings and thankfulness to your father.” leaning down, more like supporting than holding her jawline gently with his fingers, he pressed a kiss on her forehead, y/n’s knees brushed in her excitement. only coriolanus could bring out this state from her, nobody and nothing else. she was a diamond under pressure, and coriolanus was the last push she always needed to be more perfect. as he ended the soft kiss, y/n pursed her lips, looked at his eyes, then his lips. and the next move surprised her even, tearing her soul into pieces in a good way. 
coriolanus lifted up her face by her chin to kiss her. so this was it? this is what true love feels like? this is what fulfilled love and devotion feels like? he was so soft, she wanted to bite into his skin, but instead, her lips just brushed his, slimming down her hand to his chest, as he softly grabbed her neck to make her stay. oh my, y/n thought, sighing as she sipped a fresh bite of air through her nose. she didn’t want to end this, no. not tonight. god knows when they can be together again, be together like this. 
behind them, a car honked. despite being a good chauffeur, helius isn’t the best at timing, y/n thought as she almost rolled her eyes annoyed by her chauffeur, brushing coriolanus’ face to make him stop. 
“this is your car? sorry, i’m…” 
“come with me, corio.” she whispered, brushing her lips against his chin. 
“are you sure about that? your parents–” y/n grabbed his hand, slowly dragging him to the car as helius opened the door for them. coriolanus helped her get in, as the car started to drive, y/n turned to coriolanus. they began to kiss again, she tried to brush her tongue to his, but now he was the one who pushed her away gently, trying to brush his hair to look somehow collected. “y/n, your parents are home? i can’t be respectful enough if they see that i’m eating up their daughter.” 
“my father isn't home, and my mother is sleeping now. please, dear…” she tried to lean over him, it was impossible because of the height difference. coriolanus smiled, brushing her face. 
“how could i say no to you after this?” he said, letting her bury her lips into hers for the rest of the ride. arriving home, y/n nodded to helius as he could now retire for the rest of the night. stepping up on the marble front garden fastly, she opened the door. placing her finger before her lips, she signed to coriolanus to be quiet, hurrying up on the stairs to her room. y/n was glad that hortensia did her job and tidied up the place, so all they had to do was lie down and continue what they began. 
“you are so beautiful”, coriolanus moaned as he peeled down his coat and his jacket, y/n threw her stole onto the dressing table. 
“you are so handsome”, y/n whispered, kicking off her shitty but glamorous shoes, helping him unbutton his shirt as she kissed his jawline. something strange took over her mind; if someone asked her what she’s going to do tomorrow, she couldn’t answer, couldn’t form even a single thought. it was so animalistic, just as she hovered over coriolanus, sitting on his hips as she tried to unzip her dress, as coriolanus reached for it to help her, y/n remembered that she had a corset on. leaning away from him, she faced the mirror on the dressing table. 
“what’s the matter, y/n? did i do something?” he asked, reaching after her as she tried to pull it off without him noticing, but it was impossible even for her. “y/n, what are you doing? is that… holy, you wear a corset?” 
“yes, but… don’t worry, it’s just because…” who the fuck was her? she wasn’t bragging, why did she slip apart? she stopped her thoughts as coriolanus crawled behind her, helping her unzip her red dress, kissing her hair from behind. 
“y/n, i hope you know that you don’t need that.” coriolanus muttered, grabbing the ropes of the corset to ease it around her form. kissing her hair again, then moving around to get to her cheeks. as he reached her lips, the corset was undone, thrown into the corner of the room. “it can stay there, love. look at yourself, how beautiful you are, the girl i fell in love with.” 
looking into the mirror, it always saw makeup and craziness, and now… look at yourself, y/n, getting what you wanted. is this how the world works? is this how the university rewards me for my efforts, my sacrifices? y/n look at coriolanus in the mirror, the red dress holding the last bits of her breasts, turning to him, she let him get over. peeling off her dress, by an instinct, brushing his clothed cock with her knees, hearing an elated whine from him. she knew he was a virgin, she was too, but she moaned louder when coriolanus brushed her naked breasts, playing with her nipples while kissing her. it was so new, so unusual, and yet, everytime his fingertips touched her sensitive buds, she felt her blood striking down to her core. 
“do you like this, y/n?” he asked, making her hiss, nodding as she looked up at him. 
“yes… please, corio… i want you…” she gasped, trying to reach for his cock even if she didn’t know what it was going to feel like. coriolanus smiled shyly, reaching for her hips to lift it so he could take off her underwear. y/n wasn’t shy, and this was the first real pussy he ever saw, and if it depended on her, the last one, too. so, how could he compare her to any other girl? 
“i want you, too. but… i heard that it can hurt.” he kissed her, and a slight pain striked her core as she felt something crawl up. she accidentally bit down on his lips too hard, drawing blood. “i’m sorry, y/n, i just thought that–”
“please don’t stop,” she cut into his words, grabbing his hand to guide it back. if his fingers were this long and stretching her out this much, how is she going to fit his perfect cock into her cunt? it was painful at first, but it changed to pleasure, she hoped coriolanus felt the same silk on the inside, the silk she felt every time she fingered herself. the impulse grew in her stomach, similar to the way when she was fingering herself, but it was another impulse. erratic, something she wanted to scoop up into a bowl and drink from it. coriolanus stopped, pulling his fingers out, y/n grabbed his wrist to lick herself off. it was messy, but she swore she saw his pupils dilated as he looked at her. 
“i think it’s time for me to take this off too, isn’t it?” he asked, pulling down the waistband of his underwear. she hadn't seen so many cocks before, but he was so… beautiful. not too short, not too long, curling up a little bit, almost touching his abdomen from the excitement. y/n hoped that from the previous actions he got hard, because that’s what the girls always talked about at girly nights, but seeing the pre-cum dripping down on coriolanus’ cock got her mouth watering.
“do you want me to pleasure you?” she asked, already leaning up on her elbows. coriolanus shook his head, kissing her as he guided her to lay back down. 
“no, love. it’s not about you, it’s just… i don’t think i’m going to last long even if we begin this,” he whispered, y/n giggled as coriolanus rolled his eyes joyfully. 
“this is my first time too, corio.” 
“i know, and i’m trying to make it hurt as little as i can, but please don’t be mad at me if–” y/n grabbed his chin, making him face again. 
“how could i ever be mad at you?” she asked silently, brushing her forehead to his. coriolanus held her hand, grabbing his cock with the other, placing it to her core. y/n held onto his shoulder, just as in her dream. 
“i hope you will enjoy this just as much as i do.” he whispered, kissing her, slowly slipping inside. y/n felt like she was teared apart, hissing, pressing her thighs to his waist. even a tear slipped from between her lashes as she tried to hold in the agonizing scream. she knew this would turn intp pleasure and sparks too, but it was so fucking unbelieveable to realize. 
“should we stop, y/n?” coriolanus asked, his sound husky from the thigh feeling, burying his head into her neck. y/n shook her head, slipping her fingers into the hair on the back of his head. 
“just keep going, it will be good, i believe”, she muttered, and with that, he began to thrust. the first dozen were painful, as if his cock tried to murder her, but after a little time, it eased up, and she caught herself softly moaning as their lips melted into each other again. “you can be faster if you want”, y/n whispered, making coriolanus nod, an adorable look on his face from trying to concentrate and not cumming. when he first hit the spot where she could never reach, y/n almost clawed into his back from the pleasure. she understood why people loved to make love; the way his cock filled her pussy was so natural and so perfect, her heartbeat and his moans thrumming in her ears, his big hand grabbing into hers stronger and stronger, not letting her lift up hers, ever, pinning down and dominating her. another tear striked from her eyes, but this was because of happiness, pure beatitude. 
“i’m… ngh, love, i’m not going to last long”, coriolanus moaned, hitting her pleasure spot again and again, making y/n’s abdomen curl tighter and tighter. she felt as if she was a bomb ready to explode, reaching down with her free hand to her clit, circling it. it was too much, feeling how pubic lifted and fell every time he pulled out, only thrust into her, y/n turned her head so she could last longer, but it didn’t help, coriolanus was everywhere, in her mouth, her cunt, her hand, her ears and her eyesight, even in her mind. 
“i’m…ah, corio, i’m going to cum, love…” she tried to say, his cock giving her the finishing move to push her over the edge. everything turned to white and black at the same time, she felt the pleasure and pressure blowing up in every cell of her body, striking through her veins to get the sensation from head to toe, thighs pressed to his side to make him go deeper, she felt her mouth opened, a silent scream coming out as a long, ragged, guttural moan. feeling him slowing down, she knew coriolanus reached his high too, laying his head on her collarbone, breathing heavily. for a moment, y/n didn’t know where she was, she only felt the softness under her, his body upon hers, and the last, tingling feeling in her pussy. 
coriolanus pushed himself down from her, laying beside her on his back, placing his hand on his chest. y/n looked at him, panting, smiling as she could, kissing his face. 
a couple minutes later she was dressed in a robe just as him, the blanket covering them. y/n laid on his chest, looking into the fire, grabbing one of his hands as he stroked her hair. 
“this was fantastic, y/n. thank you so much, for everything.” 
y/n rolled her eyes, kissing his skin as she smiled. this wasn’t the soft smile she formed in front of him, this was the smile she formed when she was alone, but the darkness kept her secrets. for a moment, clemensia and arachne long forgotten, even sejanus’s and lucy gray’s face faded as there were just the two of them. 
“you don’t have to thank me for anything, corio. i am glad that you are happy.” 
a/n: i'm really really really tired but i couldn't let you down girliez!! i hope you liked it, i passed my test but i'm gonna have another )): nevetheless, i'll try and write more and more parts because i have plans, so don't worry <3
taglist: @champomiel @stelleduarte @diamondsbestie @tomriddles-wh0re @ikeryn @americanprometheuss @themorriganisamonster @cybersry @marihoneywk @randomgurl2326 @jxynotfound @velunis @theoriginalwife000 @coconut-dreamz @lukepattersin
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outlanderskin · 5 months
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The Thing About Rationality and Logic
Someone who was stopping shipping once told me that she was doing it because she was a very realistic and rational person and her life was based on logic. So I asked her if by that she meant that people like me live in fantasy or are irrational. So, I patiently explained that what made me a shipper was exactly logic, more than imagination or fantasy. Because the logical explanation for many events in S&C's trajectory would be that they are together, but they don't want the outside world to know that they are.
I'll cite some examples: when you have a best friend and someone in that person's family dies, what logically do you do? You see, we're talking about best friends, very close people who publicly say how much they value each other and are close. The logical thing would be for you to show solidarity, post condolences and behave publicly in a discreet manner, in solidarity with the loss of that person you love so much, especially because you (by logic) probably have known the deceased relative. The logic would be stay by your best friend's side, support the family. But what we saw in that sad august days, (showed ostensibly for us to believe) was something that no logical answer about "best friends/siblings" could explain. The only way to explain the narrative created in those days would be that they are two people with a cordial, but superficial, relationship and I believe that from what has been stated by the two all these years, not even the Antis deep down believe that they are not close. . Again I ask: what is the need to hide that you were supporting your best friend in an extremely painful moment in anyone's life? Many people (famous or not) do this publicly, because after all it is not a crime, it is the expected logical behavior. So... Why hide it? We know what really happened because this a logical thing, but the others believe firmly he was not there for her.
Let's move on to another point: the man of the year award (or something like that); How can you logically explain that you chose your mother, your best friend and your co-worker to thank, as the most important women in your life? You who apparently had many "girlfriends", who still gets along well with your discreet ex-girlfriend who lives on another continent, who has others close female friends, but didn't mention any of them along with your co-worker. I've seen several men receiving tributes and the Acknowledgments always include the mother, another older woman of reference and the wives, girlfriends, fiancées. The only time I saw a co-worker mentioned (and that was after his mother, grandmother and wife), was when the achievement was due to his work at the company, so it was logical to mention the department secretary. What would then be the logical explanation for that speech?
Something that also defies logic: if I have a best friend and that person is in a relationship, I will obviously include that person's boyfriend/girlfriend on my list of people with whom I am always cordial. I'm not going to publicly act like the person doesn't exist in my best friend's life. We have a wonderful example of how CD & LL treat each other's boyfriends/girlfriends and they don't hide it. This is how it is when we think logically.
Another little point where logic calls us: your male best friend might talk about a female artist with admiration...you don't need to tell him "behave", after all he's not your husband. The most you can do in the case of friendship is admire her or say you don't like her, never act like you're jealous.
Maybe it's just me, but I never went on my best friend's social media to complain because everyone in the photo was wearing a suit and he wasn't. I also never apologized or justified why he didn't wear a tie. I do this normally with my husband. Because it's logical for wives to do this.
These are just small points, where thinking logically justifies what we believe. So anyone who thinks that we are not rational, live outside of reality or do not have logical reasoning is mistaken, or has not yet stopped to think logically.🙃🙃
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orangepeetals · 5 months
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ACURRUCAR ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა (pt1)
(playlist for a star series)
PEETA MELLARK X F. READER.
pt2
summary: You n’ Peeta have been best friends since you were kids, you win the Hunger games once n’ you’re a mentor now.
a/n: i speak Spanish so the story was originally written in Spanish and then I translated it into English, plz don’t be rude if there is a mistake
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You and Peeta were inseparable, they knew each other for as long as you remembered. When they were at school and they were little, you never talked to him until you defended him from some children who were bothering him because of the marks of the blows he received from his mother, you didn’t know what caused that feeling in you but you just couldn’t stand how they were intimidating him, you took a couple of blows too but they never bothered the bread boy again, since then, he followed you as if he were a puppy.
They grew up together, they suffered together, Peeta did not exist without you, nor you without him, they were for each other in every possible way, they were simply soulmates.
When you were 15 years old, ur name was selected as a tribute to the hunger games, every day you thought about it, Peeta clung to you while he drowned in tears, you remember how he apologized to you for not being able to do anything and how he begged you to stay alive, you were going to do it, you could not die, not seeing Peeta suffer in this way, you knew that he would not stand it and he deserved to live a beautiful life with you.
It took you a while to realize it but you knew it that time they were by a lake in district 12, it had been a couple of months since you had survived the hunger games with only strategy. The sky began to look like a soft orange, the breeze hit his blond curls while his cheeks were pink, you could see his eyes shine and his hands tremble as he approached your face, you felt the warm touch of his lips against yours and you thought that you would melt at that moment, Their hearts became one and sealed their love with the sunset, he loves you with every part of his being and you could give your life in exchange for his without thinking about it.
You would really give up your life in exchange for his, you would live for Peeta and you would kill for Peeta if you had to.
You would really do it.
You were on the train together with your mentor Haymitch watching the reapin, you hated the games as much as Abernathy did but you had to know who would be the poor children who would have to train this year, it was the second year that you had to be a mentor since you won the hunger games, both times without any success, it was difficult for someone from district 12 to win, in the whole history of the hunger games there were only three of them and only Haymitch and you were alive, you were looking out the window until you saw how a girl volunteered as a tribute for who seemed to be her sister, tears slid down your cheeks when you saw the scene, that girl had the courage they needed, that feat made you believe that this year they could achieve it, you stood in front of the tv while Haymitch was still living something strange sitting on the couch, now it was the turn of the male tribute.
“Peeta Mellark”
Fear and despair consumed your body, your legs trembled so much that you fell to the ground while you cried inconsolably, you put your trembling hand in your mouth to drown a cry of anguish, this was not happening, it was not happening again, you knew that sometimes they tricked the draws to get people close to other winners to make the things more interesting but you always made an effort to hide Peeta from the public eye and that no one knew that they were a couple, you did not want to expose him to anything but it was happening, they could not take the love of your life, they could not take your Life partner, to your soulmate, to the arms that protected you every time something distressed you. You hated everything, fucking capitol, it didn’t matter anymore, now you and your mentor were going to have to send two boys to death again and this time one of them was the person you loved the most on the planet.
“Oh, shit... this is fucked up” Haymitch’s voice was rough, you could feel the pity in her. His hands lifted you off the floor and put you on the couch while he knelt at your height, hugging you.
“N-no i don’t understand... why him?! No one in the capitol knows about him, I don’t think he’s just so unlucky... Haymitch please, I need you to help me!” Your voice broke more, you hugged Haymitch tightly as he tried to calm you down. “We’ll see what we can do, remember that it’s not just him” The man was right but nothing mattered, nothing could matter to you more than Peeta.
“Haymitch, I’m sorry for that girl but it’s not about just anyone, he’s not just another boy who will die, it’s Peeta Mellark! I could sell my soul for never hearing that name come out of Effie Trinket’s mouth, you know Peeta, you know it’s everything to me” Your body trembled with every word you gave, you felt dizzy, you wanted break everything, Haymitch nodded to your words and you broke into tears again, suddenly everything went black.
You woke up looking at the ceiling of the train room, you were still dizzy, possibly you had fainted from stress, you were still somewhat bewildered until you heard a familiar voice from the dining room car, you got up so fast that you fell to your knees again, your body was weakened, you were going to cry again until you saw him almost run to your room, his hair was disheveled now and his eyes lacked shine, you gave him a look and you just exploded in tears again, you couldn’t believe that he was on that fucking train, that he was now involved in this.
“I’m so sorry, Peeta, I’m so sorry, it shouldn’t have been you, this is possibly my fault, they must have discovered it somehow” The words came out choppy and weak, they denoted your suffering. Peeta knelt with you as he took your hands, you saw how his tears fell, it broke your heart to know that he was holding back.
“Hey, it’s just the odds wasn’t on my favor this time, it’s not your fault, I’ll get out of this anyway and we’ll get married, did you hear me?” Your heart beat for the blond’s words, you hugged him tightly and your lips looked for his with desperation, you wanted to feel him close to you, you didn’t want him to leave, you were afraid.
The plan was this, Peeta would be madly in love with Katniss Everdeen, the girl who had volunteered, she wasn’t exactly a very nice girl and you knew that she was likely to hate you, she knew that you were going to prioritize Peeta’s success over anything and you didn’t blame her for hating you for that but you didn’t care either, at this moment you wanted her dead no matter how sad as that was.
Peeta confessing his love for Katniss in the interview, somehow you felt jealousy in your stomach even if everything was a lie, you wanted all this to end soon, you wanted to go home with Peeta, with the interviews you knew that they were at the gates of the arena, since the day of the reapin you had not eaten or slept well, the only thing you had eaten in those days had been by Peeta’s plea, now you understood his pain the day you had to enter that damn arena and for the same reason, you knew the terrors involved putting a foot in that arena, there was no turning back, Peeta had to live.
———————————————
💭pt2 here!!!
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ghostfacd · 6 months
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I’M HERE, I’M THERE, I’M EVERYWHERE | LUKE HUGHES
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synopsis: in which capitol mentor luke hughes, falls inlove with his tribute, yn dubois.
song recommendation: can’t catch me now by olivia rodrigo
author’s note: in honor of the ballad of the songbirds coming out in the next 2 weeks and olivia’s amazing song, here is my favorite person (lukey warren hughes) in one of my favorite fictional books ever, the hunger games! this was so fun to write, and as always, enjoy <3
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It was in the early years of the Hunger Games, where students at the academy in the Capitol were still allowed to train the incoming tributes from the district. Luke Hughes, a teenage boy who had been born and raised in the Capitol had finally achieved his lifelong dream; to mentor the awaiting tributes for the 6th Annual Hunger Games.
His best friend, Kelsey Ivies, shared his excitement, for they had both aspired to this role since they were kids. In their eyes, the Hunger Games were necessary, a punishment for the districts that had once rebelled, which had resulted in not only the loss of many lives in the District, but also in the Capitol. Luke’s grandfather was one of the victims, and he remembered how his father used to tell him when he was younger.
He hated the districts, they were like salt to a wound.
Luke's heart raced as he stepped into the training center, knowing that he was about to meet the tribute he'd be responsible for, a girl from District 2. His breath hitched as he laid eyes on her for the first time, shocked by her beauty.
“I’m Luke,” he says, placing out a hand for her to exchange. He’d never seen a district girl in his life, and it gave him a sense of adrenaline.
“I’m Y/N,” she says, her eyes felt like they were piercing through Luke’s insides. “Y/N Dubois from District 2.”
Over the weeks leading up to the Games, Luke and Y/N spent countless hours together, training and getting to know each other. He taught her how to differentiate berries, for some of them were poisonous in the arena. He had rewatched every single hunger games leading up to the one now, for he wanted to be the best mentor in his academy. He wanted to make his father proud, so that meant he had to make sure Y/N would come out the winner.
While they were practicing Y/N's swimming skills in a secluded lake, she playfully extended her arm out to him.
“Hey Luke,” she says, her smile loosely hanging on her lips.
He quirked his eyebrows, but nonetheless held her hand. He liked how it felt, anyway.
Suddenly, the girl yanked him into the water, making him let out a shriek of surprise, causing her to laugh hysterically. For the first time, Luke was able to see Y/N not as a tribute, but as a girl who he was falling in love with.
The following night, Luke managed to sneak Y/N out from the tribute cages, holding her hand tightly as the both tried not to giggle to loudly. The sky was clear and starry, and the two found themselves on the rooftop of a building, laying side by side. Luke’s hand brushed against Y/N’s as they gazed up at the night sky, away from the chaos and expectations that weighed on both of their shoulders. The stars above seemed to twinkle knowingly, as if they held secrets of their own.
Luke, who was normally reserved and didn’t talk much about his personal life, decided to open up to Y/N. If she were to die in the games anyways, it wouldn’t matter what she knew. His voice trembled as he spoke, "Y/N, there's something I've never told anyone before." He took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. "My father, he's always expected me to be the best mentor, to uphold the Capitol's values and ideals. But it's suffocating, you know? The pressure, the constant scrutiny. He made me feel like I was never enough."
Y/N turned to him, her eyes filled with understanding and empathy. She took his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I can imagine how tough that must be, Luke."
Tears welled up in Luke's eyes as he continued, "I've always felt like I was living in his shadow. But being here with you, it's the first time I've felt like I could be myself. I don't have to pretend, and I don't have to meet anyone's expectations. For the first time, I feel free."
Y/N smiled warmly and leaned her head on Luke's shoulder. "I love you Luke."
He knew he couldn’t say it back, he couldn’t. He was from the Capitol, and she was merely a tribute. He could feel her stiffen beside him when she’s responded back with silence. He only wrapped his arm around her frame, pulling her in.
As the Games drew nearer, Kelsey noticed how Luke had become increasingly anxious and distraught.
She scoffed. “What, don’t tell me you’re falling inlove with her?”
Luke’s lips form a thin line, “why does it matter Kels?”
“Because it’s pathetic Luke.” The brunette girl laughs. “I mean, cmon, a mentor falling inlove with his tribute?”
Luke didn’t expect for his best friend to be so outright bitchy. “What game are you playing at Kelsey?” He grunts out.
“Nothing,” Kelsey shrugs. “But you’re playing a dangerous game here, Hughes.”
However, the unexpected had happened. A rebellion began to form among the tributes a day before the games were set to start.
Luke panicked, his eyes moving in a fast motion as he searched for the one person that mattered. Y/N, his Y/N.
He was shocked to find her in the crowd, along with the other rebelling tributes. When the peacekeepers start firing, Y/N, filled with fear and anger, made a run into the nearby woods, and Luke, driven by an need to go after her, followed.
Unbeknownst to Luke, Kelsey had watched this with her calculated eyes. Positioning a peacekeeper gun around her shoulders, she made her way into the woods after the pair.
When they caught up to Y/N, Luke was overwhelmed with emotions. "Y/N, you weren't supposed to rebel," he said with a mixture of anger and desperation.
Y/N, eyes bloodshot, stood baffled, looking him in the eyes. "The Games are evil, Luke. Evil. And you’ve just been brainwashed into thinking they're necessary.”
Kelsey, who had been lurking behind them, saw an opportunity waiting to be used. She sneered and positioned the gun in her hand, ready to put an end to the rebellion and silence the tribute that had been bringing her annoyance since her arrival at the Capitol. But before she could pull the trigger, a idea flashed in her mind. She thrust the gun into Luke's trembling hands, knowing this was going to make it all more satisfying.
"Shoot her, Luke," Kelsey hissed. "Or I'll rat you out for treason, and you’ll die with her.”
Luke was trapped. He felt like he couldn’t move, and his heart ached as he stared at Y/N, the girl he had come to love despite everything he had once stood for. With tears in his eyes, he reluctantly obeyed Kelsey's command and aimed the gun at Y/N.
Her eyes, now falling with tears had practically begged silently with his to not do it.
“Luke, Luke.” Y/N begs, “what happened to our swimming practices? Don’t you remember what you said to me that one night on the roof? Did it mean nothing, Luke?”
Tears streamed down Luke's face as his hands shook with the gun in them.
Kelsey puffs in annoyance, elbowing Luke harshly on the side. “Well? Are you gonna do it? Or do I have to shoot both of you?”
Luke closed his eyes as he pulled the trigger, and he watched the girl he once loved crumble to the floor, eyes that leaked tears earlier now remain lifeless.
She’s dead, and it was all his fault.
- - -
Luke suddenly woke up in a cold sweat, his body shoot up his bed.
He had been experiencing the same dreams of him shooting Y/N, only each time, it showed a new detail, one that struck every corner of his heart.
“Are you okay?” Luke’s mom had awoken from a loud sound in Luke’s room. She placed her hand on his forehead and frowned. “What happened?”
“I’m fine..” he says, although it seemed like he was reassuring himself more than he was her.
“You can’t bottle up your feelings forever.” She sighs, but she leaves him alone, thankfully.
He swears he sees her everywhere. In his dreams, in random people he sees at his academy. She’s everywhere, even in the meadow grass, or in the corner of his eyes.
Her face of betrayal never leaves Luke’s mind, staying ingrained like a portrait.
- - -
Years have passed since everything had occurred, and although Luke’s heart felt like it was ripped in two, he forced the memory of Y/N into the deepest parts of his brain, wanting to erase every memory of her.
He ended up marrying Kelsey, whom he had 2 kids with. Two boys named Hermes and Lucretius.
One evening as the family gathered to watch the latest Games on their holographic screens, Hermes and Lucretius were jumping in their seats with excitement.
“Mama! One day, me and Hermes will get to mentor a tribute too, right?” Lucretius says excitedly, holding onto Kelsey’s hand.
“Isn’t that right dad? Me and Lucre will be mentors!”
Luke and Kelsey exchanged a knowing glance. The memory of Y/N, flashed through Luke's mind for the first time in years, felt like a painful echo from the past. The ache in his heart remained.
Kelsey placed a reassuring hand on Luke's shoulder, “You know, it’s a pretty big position, takes a lot of responsibility," she said, trying to explain the weight of the role to their children.
Their youngest son, Hermes, looked at Luke with wide eyes, "Dad, did you ever mentor someone?"
Luke hesitated for a moment, his gaze distant. Finally, he replied, "Yes, I did once. I attended the same academy you guys are attending.”
Lucretius, always having been curious, continued, "What was it like, Dad? Was it fun? Did your tribute win?”
A heavy silence hung in the room as Luke reflected on the question. Kelsey squeezed his shoulder, before getting up to bring the dishes to the sink.
“I did my best, but sometimes, things don’t go as planned.”
Their children, oblivious to the hurt behind their father’s words continued to chat excitedly about the Games. But in that moment, as they watched the televised games, Luke’s brain couldn't help itself but revisit the past, his heart heavy with the memory of Y/N, and the lingering question of what could have been if he had chosen differently.
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sincericida · 1 year
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Andrew Garfield during the Life Achievement tribute to Sally Field during The 29th Annual Screen Actors Guild Awards SAG | February 26, 2023
Andrew Garfield and Sally Field’s lasting bond is the most beautiful thing. 🥺
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ilguna · 10 months
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☼ fear and regret (Finnick Odair) ☼
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summary; after listening to Finnick's screams due to a nightmare, you put your rivalry aside to check on him.
warnings; swearing, death mention, prostitution mention.
wc; 2.4k
If Mags were to come to you tomorrow to tell you that the Capitol is purposely putting you and Finnick against each other for the spotlight, you’d believe her. It’s blatantly obvious with the way they treat you two.
They have two different yet similar narratives going on. For Finnick, after he won, they got it into their heads that he was going to be a casanova in the Capitol. And since he’d managed to outsmart his career allies by netting them in water and drowning them—that, by default, made him smart and deadly.
He was their favorite Capitol darling by far, even though he followed a pair of siblings that won back to back. They wanted Finnick, because he was able to win at fourteen, a feat that no one had achieved yet, despite trying hard. The careers had been working on it for the past couple of years to see if it was even possible. Each time, the tribute would end up dead, so they gave up.
Finnick was District Four’s prized possession. 
That is, until you won two years later, at the same age.
There was a lot of shock that came from everywhere at once. The Capitol couldn’t believe that Four managed to produce two young victors in the span of a couple years. The district threw an entire celebration to welcome you home, because it was believed that Finnick would be a one-time wonder. As for the other districts, it began to stir up the question of whether or not it was possible for them too.
The consensus they came to in the end was that you were going to be held to Finnick’s pedestal, whether he liked it or not. At first, you don’t think he minded, but as time went on…
When it came to your turn for the victory tour in the winter, the Capitol flat-out refused to present you in the same way that they did with Finnick. They took another, softer, approach. They wanted you to be seen as the sweet girl that went in without a chance, that came out a fierce fighter, because that’s how they saw you.
That was the only difference they would allow—the narrative.
Whether FInnick intended it to be as brash as it came out as, he made it very clear that he wasn’t going to let you ruin his image. He’s two years older than you, therefore you should be nothing to the Capitol, and he should be their number one priority. After all, he is the one that won first. You were just a follower.
At the time he told you this, he was frustrated and couldn’t stand the idea of his hard work being put to waste. You can understand this now, but when he was standing over you like that, telling you that he would have everything go his way, no matter your effort. You made a promise to yourself that you weren’t going to live in his shadow because he decided he was better than you.
What Finnick failed to realize was that you had fought to live in that arena just as hard as he did. He didn’t exactly intend to be the youngest victor ever at fourteen, and when you were saving your own life, you were dead set on beating him on it. All you wanted to do was live. That’s one thing you have in common that he’s failed to see time and time again.
You’re sure that he regrets it now, because you haven’t let it go since. 
It all got worse when Mags decided to retire once she felt like you were responsible enough to take over the female mentoring position. Which meant that Finnick would have to work with you, instead of her, every year you go into the Capitol together. He agreed to do this with a tight-lipped smile, because he loves Mags, and doesn’t want her to be exhausting herself.
The very first year was hell, and it wasn’t because of the responsibility it takes to keep two people alive. No, it was the media at every turn you took. You were so sure that Finnick was keeping them around on purpose, until he accused you of being an attention seeker—a name that he’s called you plenty of times before—because he thought you were the one that was giving them your location.
The Capitol went crazy for the idea of you two mentoring together, excited at the of you two producing genius tributes that’ll walk directly in your footsteps. That wasn’t all of it, though. President Snow took advantage of the publicity and had you do a number of interviews and photoshoots with Finnick to promote Capitol culture.
There really is nothing harder than trying to say something nice about a person you loathe.
Since then, you and Finnick have agreed to try and stay as professional as you can inside of the Capitol so it doesn’t get that bad ever again. Neither of you want to go through that headache. So, Finnick mentors the way he likes to mentor, and vice versa for you. If there’s conflicting ideas, then you two try to discuss it and not escalate it past glares. It doesn’t work every time.
Despite your plan to ruin Finnick as much as possible, you’d give up mentoring in a heartbeat if you were given the chance.
You almost had it last year. Annie Cresta was going to be your golden ticket out of the Capitol, but her mental state after she came out of the arena didn’t improve, which meant that you couldn’t ask her to mentor. President Snow wouldn’t let you, anyway.
Unfortunately, her presence brought a lot of suppressed memories back to life. It started out as you remembering little details about the arena that you fought hard to forget. Recently, it’s turned into nightmares that you can’t escape, no matter what tricks you try.
You’re fucking exhausted. You’d give anything to have a full night of sleep, because you’re so tired of going to bed at a decent time after a long day of mentoring, only for you to wake up in a cold sweat a few hours later. You hate feeling like there’s someone sitting on your chest, pinning your arms and legs down.
They’re always about situations you thought you escaped, but they still follow you now.
They must follow Finnick, too, if he’s still screaming every night.
You sit up in your bed, throwing the blankets off your body. Partially because you’re baking, but also because you’ve been going back and forth on going to rescue Finnick from whatever nightmare he’s been experiencing for the past hour.
The only reason why you’re doing this is because of how tortured he sounds. You wouldn’t otherwise, for the sole purpose of the amount of names he's called you, and refused to apologize for later on down the line. Along with the other list of shit, like him trying to sabotage you while mentoring or purposely going against what you agreed on.
You slide off the bed, letting out a yawn. When you check the clock, you find that it’s right around the normal time you wake up when you have a nightmare, anyway. You thought that he was going to get pulled out of it almost an hour ago. He got quiet, so you assumed he woke up, and not even twenty minutes later, he’s back to screaming.
You pull a throw blanket over your shoulders, wrapping the ends around your body to keep warm, because the hallway is always guaranteed to be colder than the rooms. You vaguely remember being told by the escort that there’s something broken in the ventilation, making the rooms hotter this year.
It’s what could be contributing to Finnick’s nightmares.
After you step into the hallway, you immediately head down to find Finnick’s room on the other side of the wall. The doors usually unlock after a certain time at night, but victors can override it if they prefer their doors to be unlocked. For you, you can’t stand the idea of someone coming into your room in the middle of the night.
However, you know for a fact that Finnick’s door automatically opens at movement, because you’ve done it by accident a couple of times. If you get too close, the sensors assume that you’re going inside of the room. The doors blow air as they open, which would wake you up if you heard it, but Finnick sleeps through it every time.
When you get closer, you can hear his choked whimpers through the door. The door opens, and you’re met with a similar, yet different bedroom to the one you sleep in. The layout’s sideways because that’s the only way they could accommodate two rooms on one train car.
Through the darkness, you can see that Finnick’s tangled in his blankets and sheets, still asleep as far as you can tell. His head is turned as far as his neck will allow, away from his body. You don’t move for a few seconds, staring at him, watching his chest rise and fall rapidly.
This is how you’ve looked every night for the past six months. It’s gotten worse since Annie’s victory tour started. This train is a never-ending hell, and you can’t wait until you finally stop at home.
In a way, seeing Finnick like this is comforting, because no matter how much either of you try to appear strong and unbothered—in the end you’re two victors that are struggling.
Your fingers dance along the wall until they hit the switch. The lights turn on slowly, and they stay dim due to the settings he must have set past a certain time. You step into the room to let the door shut behind you.
Finnick doesn’t wake.
“Finnick,” You sigh, not wanting to get close to his bed, “Finnick.”
His face twists, hands gripping the blankets. A whisper leaves his mouth, followed by what you think is a tear.
“Finnick.” You say firmly, hugging your body.
You watch as his eyes fly open, and he springs himself upright in his bed. He breathes heavily, staring right at you, but you can tell by the blank look on his face that he’s not fully registering that it’s you who’s standing in front of him.
“Are you alright?” You ask.
It’s a stupid question, of course he’s not alright. You just startled him awake, his lights are on, and you’re invading his privacy.
“What?” He asks, eyebrows drawing in, “I’m fine, what are you doing in here?”
“I came to make sure that you weren’t getting murdered.” You joke, moving to the corner of his room to take a seat on the couch. It’s fabric, and the softness feels nice against your skin. “It’s been hard this past year.”
Finnick squints at you, “Murdered?”
“I’ve been having nightmares too.” You pull your legs up, “About my Games. They started after Annie won.”
“Boohoo.” He wipes his face, where the tear had left a track down his check. Just by the look of it, it wasn’t the only tear. His cheeks are red, as if he’s been repeatedly rubbing them, likely in his sleep. “Did you come in here to tell me some sob story? You got nightmares before I did, so that makes you better than me?”
“No, Finnick.” You sigh again, pausing briefly to control the annoyance that surfaced when he mocked you. “For me, the nightmares are about the moments where I couldn’t save people. The sacrifices I had to make to be the one that won, you know? It was me or them. I gave up a lot of my allies to live, you remember that.”
Finnick doesn’t say anything.
“It’s regret.” You rub the cloth of the blanket between your fingers, “Along with other things. I’m sure you’re very familiar with the faces of the people you killed, right?”
“Yeah.” Finnick agrees, shoulders falling.
“If I could have chosen the time I got reaped, it certainly wouldn’t have been fourteen.” You shake your head, “I used to think that my age mattered, and if I was more mature, then it wouldn’t have as much of an effect on me. After Annie, it’s like my whole idea of perfection in my head was ruined.”
“My nightmares started a couple months ago, leading up to the victory tour.” He shakes his head, “And I think it’s because the year you won was the year I found out from Snow what he wanted me to do in the Capitol. I was afraid of returning.”
“Is it the same now? Are you scared to go back?”
“No, it’s because the nights on the train remind me of when I was reaped. I’m afraid of going back inside.” Finnick murmurs, “Which is stupid, because it’s not possible. So, I relive my experience in the arena every night, reminding me that I’m not safe.”
You half-smile, “If it’s any consolation, I think we’re pretty safe from being reaped again. We’re out of the reaping range.”
Finnick breathes out a laugh, “I guess that’s true.”
You nod, going to get to your feet, “If you ever need someone to talk to about nightmares, Finnick, I’ll listen.”
He sits up, “Are you leaving?”
“Yeah, I’m going to try and get some sleep. I’ve been listening to you all night.” You tease.
“Wait, stay.” He tells you, and then adds, “Please. Please, stay.”
“Finnick, I want the comfort of a bed to sleep in, not an armchair.” You raise your eyebrows. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“No, you can take my bed.” He’s already moving to get out, “Please, I’ll sleep on the floor. I just—I can’t be in here alone.”
You pause only a few steps from the door, watching as he pulls his bedding onto the floor, as well as a single pillow. And then he proceeds to pull out a whole new comforter out of the closet for you to use. When he’s done, he turns to look at you, waiting.
“Please, (Y/n)?”
You tilt your head at him, “Sure.”
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the-hydroxian-artblog · 4 months
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Wildly mesmerized by Vance because I thought that converting Humans to Merch Mimics was a Zachary-only power and I'm wondering if he had anything to do with that or if there's some other way to achieve it
Zachary is Good at it, but he's not the only one! Here's a story:
Long ago, a peasant meets a mimic of King Midas that is made of gold. He tells the peasant he can turn anything into gold, but the catch is that the converted object becomes his if he takes a liking to it. The peasant gives King Midas stones as a tribute. He takes them, and the stones turn to gold. King Midas then bids the peasant farewell, as he must now rest. The peasant, filled with both regret and greed, returns and steals portions of Midas' fortune while he sleeps: a few gold bars, crowns, things the King had for centuries, but also of course, the stones as well. Once the peasant runs off too far from Midas' castle, however, everything stolen begins to crumble and break apart... except for the once golden stones, which revert into normal stones again. When Midas awakens, he only finds the golden stones to be missing from his hoard. Everything else has returned.
He shrugs; he wasn't very attached to them yet, anyway. The crowns, the gold bars, those were the objects of his affections, and so, they remain with him. Midas, now feeling nostalgic, thinks back and instead wonders... if he claimed his own late wife in the same fashion as his treasures, would that not have saved her life?
No, that wouldn't have worked-- For he honored her wish to die as herself and not as a possession. If he had tried to force her, and yet her will insisted to not be claimed, then all that would be left of her would be an empty golem of gold in her visage, a body converted, but not the will behind it. No; She allowed herself to die of old age, and he had her body cremated. Her memory alone shall be the only thing that should remain, as treasure enough.
When a mimic is given an object of any kind, the mimic can voluntarily "assimilate" the object into their "inventory", which they can summon any time. When an object is assimilated, it gets partially converted into the same "stuff" the mimic is made out of. Items can be removed and reverted to normal by the mimic, but only to a state the mimic remembers. If the object is assimilated for too long, and then forcefully removed from the mimic, it begins to "decay" and disappear, after which it "unloads" and "reloads" back into the mimic's inventory.
Basic example: Give Jack a shirt. He puts the shirt on. If he likes the shirt a lot, the shirt becomes a part of him, causing the shirt to appear "painted" on him, and his joints are visible through the shirt. Now, tell Jack you kinda want the shirt back. He's sad, but he takes it off. The shirt is now made of solid plastic even while removed from him, but he focuses on it shakes it a bit. It reverts back into a normal shirt, and he hands it back to you. It is precisely as it was when you first gave it to him.
Finally, this begs the question: Do living things count as objects?
The answer is yes, but with some caveats:
1: The mimic has to get to know the human pretty well, otherwise they won't want to fully assimilate the human, 2: the human has to be extremely willing, otherwise their own will power will cause them to eventually get ejected, 3: After full assimilation, both need some kind of energy source as a catalyst (lightning usually works pretty well) that the mimic can endure. This allows the mimic to perform a kind of mitosis, allowing the assimilated human to split off while still being made out of mimic-stuff. Without a catalyst of some kind, the assimilated human can only either revert to being just human, or persist as a dependent "accessory" to the mimic that claimed them. If the catalyst works properly, the human is now an independent human-mimic, and can be removed from the original mimic without decaying or reverting back to normal.
Zachary is a very powerful mimic, so he was easily able to assimilate and then split Az into another Horsey. For other mimics, it's harder to do. As for Vance, that's a story for another day.
Midas sits on his throne. Reminiscing over all the people he's lost over the years, his yellow, polished heart ached. So many he offered immortality to, only to be turned down. His mourning was interrupted, however.
"Hey dad, I'm back from Aldi. Do we have any butter? I forgot to get some," said his golden son, walking in from a doorway, wearing shorts, sandals, and a tanktop, eating a sack of golden potatoes, "I know I don't need to eat anymore, given I let you turn me into this and you used a ritual to allow me to exist apart from you, but I still get the munchies every now and then. Some butter would go great with these."
"In the cupboard, son," sighed Midas, with an annoyed smile.
For because Midas was annoyed, he knew his son was indeed still himself. An individual with his own will, his own prospects still, and his own ability to remain even if something happened to Midas himself.
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scarlettscribbles · 5 months
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a little help from your family (1/2)
PART OF neither the angels in heaven above, nor the demons by the sea DRABBLE SERIES ↠ masterlist
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- Lucy Gray Baird & Daughter!OC, endgame Lucy Gray Baird x Coriolanus Snow
Summary: 1.4k words - Tigris meets her niece.
a/n: adding a tags-list for all those that want to be updated when i update this drabble series! just comment below or send me an ask
tags-list: @cdragons
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Coryo came back from District 12 triumphant but different. Tigris had expected him to come back with the Victor girl — with his Victor girl — but he only came back with an emptiness in his eyes, molding him into a man that was supposed to be long dead.
It sowed the seeds of fear in her, fear that she tried so hard to smother because that was her boy. That was her Coryo. The little cousin who clung to her so tightly during the nights when hunger pains would send them crying, the boy who’d sought out her comfort time and time again, who’d come to her first with every achievement. She’d once told him that he could be good, something she’d wholeheartedly believed at the time, but now… Now it’s less of a belief and more of a desperate hope.
Their penthouse grew brighter and more opulent. Their fridge was always stocked, sometimes obscenely so. Grandma’am glowed with happiness and Tigris tried her best to mimic the same. Oh for certain there were good times, still. The day Coryo surprised her with a sewing machine and a chest full of rich fabrics and materials, he’d been so giddy and proud, looking to her for approval. Tigris had given it to him, wrapping her arms around him and kissing his cheek. They had passed the time talking— well, it was mostly Tigris talking, ranting about the new designs she was going to be able to try out, flitting about the room and showing Coryo her sketches for him.
The moment had been cut short when an alarm rang, reminding Coryo of a meeting with Dr. Volumnia Gaul.
Moments like that were few and far in between. As Coryo grew more powerful, the distance between grew, the space in his life that provided him guidance occupied by someone else. Someone who had been able to help him more than Tigris could, despite her best efforts. Being displaced was such a sore feeling. Tigris hated Dr. Volumnia Gaul for pouring poison in Coryo’s ears, but she knew that Coryo had made a choice too.
Tigris drowned herself with work, using her creations as some sort of escape. She became proficient and famous enough to no longer work under Fabricia, likely thanks in part of Coryo’s influence who had been insistent that he only wore out clothes of her making. Tigris found a temporary joy in it, that was, until Coryo informed her that he found a spot for her as a designer in the upcoming 11th Hunger Games.
It made her sick. All the new "improvements" to the Games made her sick. The Capitol loved it, of course. As if the glitz and glamor can cover up the mountain of dead bodies and the smell of blood.
Her only consolation had been Mrs. Plinth, who she’d grown close to. She was sympathetic to the tributes, though highly cautious of expressing it. More so since her son had died, Tigris thought.
Her first tribute was a kind girl from District 4 who later went on to win, to Tigris’ guilty relief. On their first meeting, Mags Flanagan asked her about Lucy Gray Baird. Tigris nearly cried at that moment, feeling grateful that someone else besides her still remembered the songs and colors of the girl who changed her life.
Coryo’s constant brushing off of her questions regarding Lucy Gray had made Tigris fretful of the fate of the young woman, thinking that he might have done something to her. There must have been something that happened to turn the smitten boy with lovesick eyes into a hateful, unyielding man whenever Lucy Gray was mentioned.
“It was a lapse of judgment, Tigris. We realized we had diverging paths. I wanted to go back here in the Capitol and she—“ He turned away from her, but not before she got a glimpse of the strange look on his face. “She wanted to sing in the woods forever.”
It was not long after that that Tigris decided to move out of their penthouse and into the apartment above her own shop. She had felt guilty for doing so, leaving her Grandma’am in the primary care of Mrs. Plinth, but she made sure to visit often. Tigris hadn’t been sure if it was a good choice, but now…
“Is that you, Lucy Gray? Lucy Gray Baird?” Tigris asked before realizing the urgency of the situation. She didn’t wait for an answer, already ushering them in.
Lucy Gray smiled tiredly as Tigris led them into the waiting of her store. She immediately sat down, sighing as she shifted the bundle in her arms. Flaxen locks peeked from underneath the coat.
“Are— are you alright?” Lucy Gray looked no less beautiful than she had five years ago, last she’d seen her on the screen. She looked more mature now, though, sad and worried.
“Tigris I apologize for coming so suddenly. I know we don’t really know each other apart from whatever Coriolanus has said but I really, really don’t know where to go to.” she said in a rush, barely breathing between each word. “My daughter, my Annie, she’s sick and the doctor said she needed a heart transplant or else—“ Lucy Gray sobbed, a lone, heartbreaking sound. Tears streamed down her face.
“Lucy Gray breathe,” Tigris coaxed, hurriedly retrieving a piece of cloth from the scraps she had by her sewing machine. “I need you to breathe okay? I’m going to do my best to help you, but first I need you to breathe.”
Lucy Gray accepted the cloth, wiping her tears and composing herself. “I’m sorry again—“
“No need to apologize,” Tigris replied kindly, sitting across her visitors.
“I suppose introductions are in order,” Lucy Gray sniffed, sliding the hood of the coat of the bundle in her arms, kissing the child’s forehead before shifting them slightly so their face could be seen in the dim lighting. “This is my Annabel Rose Baird. She’s asleep now but she would love to meet you again when she’s awake.”
Tigris couldn’t hold back a gasp. “Oh, Coryo. What have you done?” Her mind ran wild with the possible reasons why Lucy Gray raised her daughter alone. "She looks a great deal like you."
"A great deal like him too," Lucy Gray responded. “Me and him, we weren’t planning on having Annie, it just kind of happened.
“See, we were supposed to go north to escape, to run away. He’d killed the mayor’s daughter, Mayfair, and another fella shot her boyfriend, Billy Taupe. The Peacekeepers were wantin’ to hunt down the culprits and the guns used. I was a major suspect since Mayfair hated me and Billy Taupe was my ex. I said I needed to go, he said he’d come with.
“While we were on the way, he told me he killed three people but I’d only known two of them. And he wouldn’t tell me the truth. I— I think it might have been Sejanus. Plinth. The other boy who’d been in the Peacekeepers with him? They played a recording when he was executed and he kept calling out for Coriolanus and his Ma when they hung him.” Lucy Gray shivered. “The mockingjays kept echoing his cries. It’s still in my nightmares even now.”
A small part of Tigris had suspected it, but to hear Lucy Gray’s confirmation was chilling. She felt so undeserving of the generosity of the Plinth’s.
“I wanted to tell him about Annie, I really did. For a moment, I entertained this fantasy of having a complete family, of my daughter never wanting for a missing presence in her life but, well, at that point I didn’t trust Coriolanus with anything. So I ran. Next I’d heard was him shoutin’ in the forest about me tryin’ to kill him. He started firing when he heard the mockingjays repeat my song.”
Tigris felt a bit sick at the onslaught of information. There was the difference between speculation and fact. “I’m sorry, Lucy Gray. I’m sorry that you had to do this alone.”
Lucy Gray looked at her daughter — Tigris’ niece, dear god — with so much love that it made her heart hurt. “It was fine. I wouldn’t have traded her for anything,” she said. “This isn’t the farthest I would go just to see her be alright.”
A tear slipped down Tigris’ cheek. “Tell me, Lucy Gray,” she said with as much sincerity as she could. “What do we have to do?”
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poetryincostume · 8 months
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With life and a back-breaking work schedule for a couple of years - until now, thank you greedy film studios - I have barely undertaken, nevermind finished, any personal sewing projects. This meant that when Star Wars Celebration returned to my neck of the woods this year I had no costumes to wear even if I had the energy to spend a day sweating and Uncomfy. But I needed something swarsy, even if just for a minute!
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That led to me bashing this jacket together so I could put together a vaguely Hera Syndulla inspired look. The franchise and I may be at odds, but my general will always have my heart. Draped on the Tuesday night, made on the Wednesday, slip-stitched the lining in on Friday night after a day at the con and worn on the Saturday. I think the end result was quite lovely!
I called this a ‘doodle’, as I was effectively sketching the idea of a jacket with only a vague idea of what I wanted to achieve: a short cropped jacket, possibly a grown kimono collar and power shoulders since I already had XL raglan pads pinned to my dress form for the Arcane jacket I’ve been tooling with for a year and a half (and finally finished a month ago.)
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The drape evolved into panels as there is one thing I love: unnecessary panelling. This also felt appropriately Swarsy. To lean into that Her Syndulla pilot/70’s workwear vibe I wanted a back yoke and vent. (You can tell this was a super quick project bc it has a side seam and these days I am morally opposed to side seams.)
Some semblance of shaped achieved I dove straight into smashing a pattern together from the drape, and decided that I would work out any issues as I went.
The main fabric is a coated scoured cotton I bought several years ago for a Hera jacket (inspired by the Lego series) so it’s come vaguely full circle back to it’s original intention. Ish.
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As I was cutting I decided it needing piping! Yes! Piping is very fun and rebellionish, and another of my favourite things. It adds a lovely definition to panelling whilst also adding support to the fairly exaggerated silhouette. The piping was made from a stretching cotton twill that I dyed several years ago for an(other) abandoned Hera project.
The piping led to an abundance of topstitching as a lazy way to keep all seam allowances in place, and then becoming a tribute to Jyn Erso and her topstitching.
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The jacket was then lined in a brown fine grosgrain that I inherited from a job, which was quickly slipped stitched in. I faced the cuffs with the wrong side of the main fabric to have a featured turn back.
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The final look thrown together at the most exhausted, low-effort Celebration. I was aiming for cool modern Hera Syndulla but the end result was much more April O’Neill.
There are a number of grain issues, particularly with the back panels and vents that I didn’t particularly bother to finesse from the drape to the cutting. But it’s fine! It’s a funky little jacket for one event, no one got what I was going for but I did get some compliments. And most of all I got the satisfaction of actually making something from beginning to end in a period of exhausted personal sewing drought.
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eagna-eilis · 7 months
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Ach-To and Irish Archaeology
The sequels were my entry into Star Wars and I never would have gone to see The Force Awakens if I wasn't an archaeology nerd.
During the production of Episode VII, a decent number of people with an interest in our archaeological heritage here in Ireland were quite worried about the impact of filming on one of our only two UNESCO World Heritage Sites, the island known as Skellig Michael down off the coast of Kerry.
I went to the film to see if any potential damage was worth it, or if they'd do something unspeakably stupid with it in-universe. I wanted to see if it was respected.
And holy hell I was NOT disappointed. I think I walked out of TFA sniffling to myself about how beautiful the Skellig looked and how it seemed like its use as a location was not just respectful but heavily inspired by its real history.
See, Skellig Michael was a monastic hermitage established at a point when Christianity was so new that the man who ordered its founding sometime in the first century CE was himself ordained by the Apostle Paul. The fellah from the Bible who harassed all and sundry with his letters, THAT Apostle Paul. This is how old a Christian site the Skellig is. It predates St. Patrick by at the very least two hundred years.
The steps we watch Rey climb were originally cut NEARLY TWO THOUSAND YEARS AGO. They have been reworked and repaired many many times since, of course. Still, the path the camera follows Daisy Ridley up is as much an ancient path built by the founders of a faith in real life as it is in the movies.
A hermitage was a place where monks went to live lives of solitude and asceticism so as better to achieve wisdom. The practice is common to many of the major world religions, including the myriad East Asian faiths which inspired the fictional Jedi.
It is said that the hermitage and monastery were originally built with the purpose of housing mystical texts belonging to the Essanes, one of the sects of Second Temple Judaism which influenced some of the doctrines of Christianity. They also, according to what I have read, characterised good and evil as 'light' and 'darkness' and were celibate.
As such, the use of the island in TFA and TLJ does not merely respect Skellig Michael's history, it honours it. It is framed as somewhere ancient and sacred, which it is. It is framed as a place where a mystic goes to live on his own surrounded by nature that is at once punishing and sublime, which of course it was. It shown to be a place established to protect texts written at the establishment of a faith, which it may well have been.
This level of genuine respect for my cultural heritage by Rian Johnson in particular is astonishing. I don't think anyone from outside the US ever really trusts Americans not to treat our built history like it's Disneyland. Much of the incorporation of the Skellig's real past into a fictional galactic history occurs in TLJ, which is why I'm giving Rian so much credit.
It's Luke's death scene which makes the honouring of Irish archaeological history most apparent though.
Johnson takes the archaeological iconography back a further three thousand years for his final tribute to my culture's beautiful historical temples. This time, he incorporates neolithic passage tomb imagery, specifically that of Newgrange, which is up the country from the Skellig.
I think if you understand what the image represents then it makes a deeply emotional scene even more resonant.
The scene I'm referring to is Luke's death.
As he looks to the horizon, to the suns, we view him from the interior of the First Jedi Temple. The sunset aligns with the passageway into the ancient sanctuary, illuminating it as he becomes one with the Force.
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As for Newgrange, every year during the Winter Solstice it aligns with the sunrise. The coldest, darkest, wettest, most miserable time of the year on a North Atlantic island where it is often cold, wet, and miserable even in the summer. And the sun comes up even then, and on a cloudless morning a beam of sunlight travels down the corridor and illuminates the chamber inside the mound.
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You guys can see this, right? The similarity of the images? The line of light on the floor?
Luke's death scene is beautiful but I think it's a thousand times more moving with this visual context. Luke's sequel arc isn't merely populated by a lore and iconography that honour the place where the end of his story was filmed, I think that incorporation of that history and mythology honours Luke.
We don't know for sure what the Neolithic people believed, religion-wise. We know next to nothing about their rituals. We know that there were ashes laid to rest at Newgrange. There is some speculation that the idea was that the sun coming into the place that kept those ashes brought the spirits of those deceased people over to the other side.
It's also almost impossible not to interpret the sunlight coming into Newgrange as an extraordinary expression of hope. If you know this climate, at this latitude, you know how horrible the winter is. We don't even have the benefit of crispy-snowwy sunlit days. It's grey and it's dark and it's often wet. And every single year the earth tilts back and the days get long again.
The cycle ends and begins again. Death and rebirth. And hope, like the sun, which though unseen will always return. And so we make it through the winter, and through the night.
As it transpired the worries about the impact of the Star Wars Sequels upon Skellig Michael were unfounded. There was no damage caused that visitors wouldn't have also caused. There also wasn't a large uptick in people wanting to visit because of its status as a SW location, in part I think because the sequels just aren't that beloved.
But they're beloved to me, in no small part because of the way they treated a built heritage very dear to my heart. I think they deserve respect for that at the least.
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