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#the hunger taz
geodebiome · 2 years
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just had the sickest fucking idea of what the hunger looks like and had to visualize it . guys? this might be the dopest shit ive ever drawn.
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gasterofficial · 1 year
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reagancore · 1 year
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you will call us Ascendant.
THIS GUYS BEEN IN MY BRAIN ALL WEEK HELP ME!!!!
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local-corvid · 1 year
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Just saying but if you listen to Running Up That Hill (specifically the carseat headrest version) and think about it being John and Merle's song throughout their interdimensional meetings you WILL cry
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deadstaticolivia · 4 months
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Maybe making a johnchurch playlist would fix me (it wouldn’t)
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pastelzafara · 1 year
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Jon the hunger is a tumblr sexyman
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anistarrose · 1 year
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the thing I keep coming back to about TAZ Balance, I think, is that there's heroes — lots of them, even — but there's not really a hero, not a singular one. when our characters try to save the world all on their own, and oh, do they try, their arcs — while eventually culminating in happy endings, for the most part — are, at the time, cast as tragedies. lone heroes, in TAZ Balance, are invariably tragic heroes.
Lucretia can't gather all the Grand Relics and defeat the Hunger on her own. Barry can't find Lup, much less sway Lucretia from her plan, on his own. Lup, crushed by guilt, sets off to neutralize her greatest mistake without even facing her family as she leaves, and that decision sets the story into motion in the first place. their intent to spare their family, to shoulder the burden alone so no one else will have to, fixes little and leaves them isolated. lonely. trapped.
even Magnus, rustic Folk Hero of Raven's Roost, fails to avenge the community that took him in. he sets off on a solitary mission to do so, never opening up about his pain to even his closest friends, but he never sees Kalen again. yet, maybe not too late, he learns, or rather, remembers — the strength to protect and avenge others comes from the strength to ask for help. the last thing helping anyone is trying to do this alone.
Lucretia assembles the Bureau, and as soon as she sees a way, brings Tres Horny Boys back under her wing. Barry, the very same day that Lucretia recruits them, sees the Phoenix Fire Gauntlet surface, and realizes it's time to put his trust in his family again — he shows himself to them soon after, and even with him putting up a facade, that's progress. and Lup, with endless time to reflect, is possibly the first of all of them to see where she went wrong. she won't be making that mistake again.
there's not a singular hero of the story, because taking on the burden of saving everyone is no task meant for one person. there's "our heroes," Tres Horny Boys, and there's the secondary, "secret," but no less important heroes who complete the ranks of the IPRE, but none can defeat the Hunger — nor reunite their family, nor vanquish an old foe — without leaning on each other, and on the new bonds they forged on this cycle. leaning on Johann, Kravitz, Team Sweet Flips, and the whole ensemble; every single connection that convinced them not to flee but to fight.
accepting that none of them can, that none of them should, be the hero alone — that's what averts the tragic end. the Hunger, terrible as it is, is wholly united, sharing and amplifying each other's despair. the only way to victory is to rely on each other, to care for each other, to learn how to be cared for, and to let your loved ones grant you hope.
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toastydumpster · 1 year
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me and the abomination I pulled by being madly in love with life. 
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Just some things I think deserve a super accurate movie/show adaption in a beautiful 2D animation style:
The How to Train Your Dragon series
Gregor the Overlander
Artemis Fowl
The Adventure Zone
The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy
Frankenstein or the Modern Prometheus
The Wonderful Wizard of Oz (fr so much was left out of the 1939 film!)
Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking-Glass
The actual Little Mermaid story (there are a ton of adaptations I haven't seen yet so maybe it exists somewhere but we all know Disney’s didn’t even come close)
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anonbeadraws · 1 year
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illustration commission for @vjcreations on twitter of Tazr'ael the half-orc psionic rogue from our Dnd Stream Strange Hungers!! 🗡 He's having an uh- interesting time right now, his past is catching up on him. Watch us on Twitch or Youtube via TotalPartyKiss! 🗡 more commission info in source!🗡
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entguarde · 3 months
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john hunger in stigmata
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WHAT’S THE COLOR OF THE NEXT CAR? (it’s red, you bastard!) YEAH, RED, YOU BASTARD!
[ID: A lineless digital drawing of John Hunger in a monochrome palette of grays and reds.
He is a lanky, well-kept man with pale skin. He has slicked back dark hair and dark eyes with red irises. He’s wearing a dark suit.
John is shown as if he were stuck inside a box; sitting hunched over with his knees to his chest. One hand is over his face and another is digging into his own hair. He is glaring at the viewer, his eyes wide and wild. In the background there are numerous eyes, all staring at him. End description]
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alienstardustwrites · 4 months
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ღ bees and petals...a coriolanus snow story. ❉ part one : yellow roses.
♫ “DON'T FEAR THE REAPER” DENMARK + WINTER.
☼ Summary: It's 15 ATT (After the Treaty of Treason) and Coriolanus Snow is the new President of Panem at age 23. To celebrate this accomplishment, he invites all the past Victors to the Capitol. Heavensbee (Reader) is the District 5 Victor from the Eighth Hunger Games. He takes a liking to her, working to impress her, but her heart belongs to another - a long lost Snow. ❂ Parts: Prologue. One.
✎ A/N: Coriolanus Snow imagine. Part one of this story. I really hope it's good! I am telling myself i have part two and three planned lol We'll see. Thank you again for reading this and encouraging it. Really made me fall in love with THG universe again. <3 Feedback and comments are appreciated. Thank you so much!! ♥
‼ ‼ WARNINGS: violence, mentions of death, feels, love, a bit of a slow burn.
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You returned to your life in District 5 once you exited the train. It was difficult to adjust, but you found your way with your father’s and cousin’s help. 
You went back to work at the power plant, picking up your old job. Some of your coworkers thought the Capitol turned you into an Avox with how little you spoke. 
You just didn’t have much to say - to anyone. You worked then went home. It took a long while until you were able to control the night terrors. The dreams were so vivid. The other tributes chase you down, their hands around your throat breaking your trachea. You would wake up screaming, kicking away the blankets. Your father would rush in, trying to calm you. The tears streamed down your face as you curled up on the bed. The terrors started to slow after some time. 
During the next reaping, You stood on stage showing everyone a victor’s face. The nonexistent smell of the burning flesh filled you - remembering what happened in the arena and how some tributes burned. 
You couldn’t breathe, broke down, and begged to cancel it. A Peacekeeper grabbed you and dragged you away from the microphone to keep you from making any scene. That would be the last time they allowed you on stage. 
The following year - you avoided it. And the next. Then, your father fell ill from the heart. You used whatever winnings you had left to try to find him a doctor. But you were unsuccessful. They said your father died of a broken heart. 
Your cousin and you held a small ceremony and buried him next to your mother. A man dressed in expensive garb showed up to the funeral. 
“He was a smart man. Kind soul. Too kind for the Capitol - if you ask me.” The man said as he dropped a bit of dirt over the fresh grave. 
Your cousin stepped in front of you protectively until he realized who it was - your uncle Plutarch Heavensbee. A brief look of sadness fell over your uncle’s face,  but then he quickly gathered himself up as he glanced over at you. Your only answer to your cousin was a nod. 
“That is why he left. The Capitol would’ve ripped him into a soulless being - just like the others.” You muttered and knelt in front of the marker. Absentmindedly, you moved some of the flowers. “What do you want, uncle?” 
“To say goodbye to my brother. And to offer you a home, in the Capitol.” He spoke casually. 
You snorted a laugh, not taking him seriously, and turned your head to stare up at him.  He wasn’t a bad man, from what your father said, but he just made questionable choices. “I’m sorry?” 
“Yes. You could make a life there.” He nodded, locking eyes with yours. “Your cousin would stay in District 5. Nothing will happen to him. You can send him necessities of the highest quality. But you are a victor. One of the popular ones, I might add.” 
You shot up to your feet, standing in front of your uncle. “You want a show? Is that it? Show your friends what the games do to a person?” You asked sarcastically. He was a Capitol man - you couldn’t be sure you could trust anything he said.
“I want you to get what you are owed, dear niece.” 
What could the Capitol give you? They owed so many victors everything. You heard stories of the others who discovered ways to cope - unhealthily. You managed to avoid that path, but you’d be lying if you weren’t tempted. 
“The man who is running for president wants to have a Victors’ Village in the Capitol. My suggestion. They can live how they are supposed to.” He pitched. “They owe you, dear niece.” He repeated, then grinned cunningly at you. 
“You should go.” Your cousin piped in. “They should give you what you deserve. You have taken care of me, now let these fuckers grant you well. I’ll be fine.” He reassured you and squeezed your hand carefully. 
You breathed in, and exhaled slowly. The option of leaving for the Capitol wasn’t what you imagined. As a matter of fact, you wanted to stay as far away as possible. However, being able to send goods back to your cousin sounded nice and necessary. You would be living away from him, but still taking care of him. 
“When do we leave?” 
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The homes at Victors’ Village were still in their infancy. They were livable but there was still construction happening. The iron gate was stabilized, but some of the homes had big gaps. 
Your uncle helped you get situated in your home and then went back to take care of his work. Inside the home, it was quaint and of modest size. It was semi-furnished - with a couch, tables, and a king-sized bed in the bedroom. You set your belongings down on the floor, then went to sit outside on the stoop. The Victor who lived across from you waved quickly and then rushed inside, shutting the door
“Okay…” You murmured and glanced up at the sky and then down to the unpaved road. A fountain was built at the entrance of the village but wasn’t running. You wondered if the others would come or just stay in their districts. You could leave if you wanted. Pack up your stuff and get to the train. It was an option that did cross your mind while you picked it at your fingertips. 
The quiet of the village was cut short when you heard the Panem song start playing over the loudspeakers. 
“People of Panem. We will be coming together tomorrow evening at the Capitol Grounds in preparation for celebrations for the upcoming Hunger Games. Our interim President Coriolanus Snow invites everyone to the festivities. He’ll have a special address.” The announcer repeated the message, then cut off. You breathed in, and stretched out your legs, wondering if you had to go or if you could hide from it all. 
You got to your feet and turned to head back into your home. “Hi Bumblebee.” A familiar voice said coming from behind you. You stopped yourself from opening the door and turned to see Beaumains Hemlock. 
“Hello, Chef,” you smiled at him. 
On the way back to your District after the games, Beau kept you company. He did most of the talking while you ate up any of the sweets he placed in front of you. He didn't mind the silence. 
Beau was kind and helped you with the little belongings you had when you reached the station to exit the train. He shared some extra food with you to take back home. “The Capitol eats enough.” He told you and grinned. “Hope to see you again, bumblebee.” 
“I brought you a variety of sweets to officially welcome you to the Capitol. I was instructed we were having some Victors moving in and wanted to make them feel at home,” he took a few steps up the stoop and opened the white box he was holding to show you the tarts, cookies, and pieces of cake. 
You let out a light laugh when you saw the bee-shaped cookie. You picked it out of the box and broke off a piece, popping it into your mouth. “Delicious. It’s nice seeing a familiar face. I didn’t think you would remember me.” You admitted softly as you ate another piece of the cookie. 
“I am impressed you remember me. The staff from the train.” He teased, closing the box of treats. 
You shook your head and grinned at him. “Would you like to come into my home?” It sounded weird to hear the words ‘my home.’ You opened the front door and nudged your head, taking a step over the threshold. 
“Yes, I’d like that.” He followed you inside, closing the door. You took the box of treats from him to set them down on the table on the kitchen counter. 
You crossed your arms and strolled over to him, standing in front of him. “I missed you.” 
“I missed you too.” He said quietly. Then, he leaned in, connecting his lips with yours slowly, like asking for permission. You didn’t show much hesitation and kissed him back. He placed his hands on your hips, pulling you in closer so your body pressed against his. It was a familiar feeling.
Beau made it a habit to make frequent trips to District 5 after he met you. The two of you connected and cared for one another but kept the relations a secret. You weren’t sure what to call this, but you found comfort in one another. You didn’t know how much you needed someone to be close to until after him. After the games, it left you with night terrors and horrid dreams. Beau reminded you that he was real and he cared for you. 
After the tryst, he would get back on the train and you would return to your duties in the District. It had been like that for a long while. Until he became head chef of the restaurant, he was finding it more difficult to get away. And you couldn’t blame him. He was succeeding and you weren’t going to hold him back. 
You slipped your hands into his, giving them a tight squeeze. A smile grew over your lips as they were pressed against his. A feeling of passion and safety pulsed through you being with him again, even if it was just for a brief moment. 
“Do we have to go to that event?” You asked. 
Beau nuzzled against the crook of your neck, kissing your neck playfully. “I’ll be there.” 
“So, then, yes,” you smirked, brushing your fingers against his jawline. “I will be there.” 
“Good. I’m glad,” he wrapped his arms around you, drawing a circle against your lower back. Then, he kissed your cheek a few times. You chuckled lightly and nuzzled against him, then guided him to your bedroom. 
You were not clueless, you knew there were cameras all over the village on the outside. But inside - you were carved out some privacy. You bumped the back of your knees against the bed, as you pulled off your blouse. Beau took steps to you and kissed you deeply. The two of you connected again - all familiar and beguiling. He knew how to touch the spots on your body giving you goosebumps. His lips gently caressed the scars that ran over your body - him being the only one you allowed to touch them without reacting roughly. Your body craved his touch so much it actually frightened you. The thought of him feeling the same way filled you up, but you weren't brave enough to ask.
Your back arched subtly hinting at him to give him more of his touch. He responded; his lips ran down your throat and over your breasts. You moaned his name, dragging your fingernails against the headboard. His mouth moved teasingly over your nipples, flicking his pierced tongue over them. You shut your eyes tightly already feeling your center becoming ignited.
You exhaled his name, begging him to give you the release you needed desperately. He smirked at you withering beneath him, his lips connected with yours. He gripped your hips, you opened your legs just enough to let him get closer Then you he moved inside of you, you bumped your body against him. You whispered his name.
You thought you heard him murmur, "I love you." But he didn't repeat himself - he swallowed the words as your bodies collided, entering your own world of love and lust.
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It was happening. Everything was finally falling into place. 
Coriolanus Snow was finally receiving what he knew he deserved. It was a rocky path to reach the top, but people were showing their allegiance to him. They were supporting him. He may be in his 20’s but he knew more than most. 
He strolled back from the window in his office overlooking Panem and sat down on the chair. He unfolded the note that was left on his desk. “Victors are moving in. Some are in the lobby.” He folded the paper and dropped it into the drawer at his desk. 
He got to his feet, adjusted his jacket to look sharp, and walked toward the lobby. You along with several of the other victors sat quietly in the seats. You had on some loose-fitting trousers, a green buttoned-up blouse neatly tucked in, and a mustard-colored peacoat. The items were the first things you were able to unpack out of the box. 
“Welcome to the Capitol,” Coriolanus smiled gratefully looking at each one of the victors. His eyes lingered for a moment when he saw you. It seemed he stood a little taller and sucked in his breath to appear more confident. “We want to thank you for your service. And we hope you enjoy your homes and find them accommodating.” He grinned sweetly. The Peacekeepers had retrieved you from your homes early in the morning - they didn’t give you much of a choice. 
“Thank you,” the victor from District 1 said smoothly. “I think I can speak for all of us,” he quickly glanced around at the others without really acknowledging anyone. “We are grateful for your kindness, President.” He nodded. 
You snorted a low laugh, rolling your eyes. Coriolanus cleared his throat and his blue eyes met yours. “Would you like to add, Heavensbee?” He raised his eyebrows. 
“Nope, Coriolanus. Nothing to add.” You grinned. 
“President Snow,” the same victor corrected you. 
Coriolanus held up his hand to the victor and smiled briefly. “It’s fine. We’re friends. Victors - feel free to enjoy the tour of the Capitol. Heavensbee - may I have a word?” He stood in front of you, placing his hand on the small of your back, gesturing you toward his office. The District 1 victor rolled his eyes, then followed the others. 
You breathed in, clasping your hands together following him. A word of advice from your uncle was to play the part. This was your part - this was what you had to do. Your cousin was already getting valuable goods, he wrote to you letting you know he was doing well. That made you feel accomplished, like living in the Capitol was going to be worth it. 
“Are you doing well?” He asked you honestly. The facade he had been wearing a few moments ago seemed to diminish when it was just you and him. You squinted a little at him, then walked toward the window, peeking down at all of Panem. Coriolanus took a few steps to be standing beside you, he placed his hands behind his back. 
“As well as I can be,” you answered quietly, turning your attention in his direction. You adjusted the collar of his coat so it was lying flat. “You fit the part. Very different from what I remember.” 
“I watched you. I knew you could make it.” He grinned and nodded. “People come and go. Someone rarely makes an impression. You told me to stay humble and dress in hand-me-downs.” He let out a light laugh, exposing the crinkles on the sides of his mouth. He quickly glanced down at the streets of Panem before turning himself to you, holding out his arms. “How do I look now?” 
You slipped your hands into the pockets of your coat, crossed your ankles, and turned to stand in front of him. He was dressed in an expensive-looking tailored suit with a yellow rose pinned to the pocket of his jacket. His blond hair was neatly styled, without a strand out of place, and bright blue eyes locked on you. 
You adjusted his golden collar pins with two small bee brooches. Your fingers traced the outlines of the bees, then glanced up at him. A tiny grin started to grow over his mouth when he noticed. 
“Like you belong,” you answered. 
“May I show you something?” He turned up his palm, waiting to see if you would take his hand. Your eyes glanced down at his palm, taking notice of the gold ring. You nodded and dropped your hand into his, he responded quickly and wrapped his fingers around yours. Then, he turned away from the window and headed out of the office. You followed. 
It was probably not the smartest idea, you should have just turned away and gone back to your home. But it was the curious side of you that took over. 
The two of you walked down the hallway, expensive art hanging from the walls filled the route. Your eyes gazed at each one not taking in too many details. Then you stopped at one, Coriolanus halted and turned to you. 
“Yes?” 
You pointed up at one. It was of a man with bright blue eyes dressed in military-styled garb. “Is this your father?” 
“Yes. It is.” He half-smiled, taking a moment to glance up at it. “I requested it to be in here. He was a brilliant man.” He squeezed your hand gently, then turned his attention to you. 
“Uh-huh.” You raised your eyebrows. It was common knowledge to everyone in the Districts that Coriolanus Snow’s father was the creator of the Hunger Games. “Teaching the districts.” You said under your breath bitterly. 
You imagined ripping down the picture, setting it on fire. However, that wouldn’t end well. You took a step forward to continue on your trek to whatever he wanted to show you. 
He and you stepped out of the Capitol building into a small greenhouse. He opened the door, gesturing for you to go in first. You half-smiled unsure and entered the greenhouse to be welcomed by a strong scent of roses. There were bouquets of white and red roses that started to fill the greenhouse. There was still space for more. You started to walk down the middle, gently retouching the tops of the buds. 
“You grew these?” You glanced over your shoulder at him. 
He stood at the door, with his arms confidently behind his back, and nodded to answer. “My Grandma’am taught me how to be gentle with these and they’ll grow strong.” 
Pursing your lips appearing impressed, you nodded as you continued down the aisle. “Impressive, Coriolanus.” You knelt to pick up the fallen petals from one of the red roses. “Would you end the Hunger Games?” You kept your back to him as you asked the question, counting the petals in your hand. 
He stayed quiet - uncomfortably for too long. You stood back up, keeping your head down and finally slowly spinning around in his direction. You didn’t move closer to him, you kept a little bit of distance. He had the power to end something so devastating, he could end the carnage. But you already could see he wouldn’t. 
“I can’t.” He answered quietly shifting on his feet. “I - I am outnumbered.” He locked his eyes with yours. “I did ask why we need them. And everyone had reasons that made sense. It’s order, it’s survival for every district and the Capitol.” 
The young man finally started his small trek to you, he breathed in shakily. “You - you give us hope—the victors. You and your family will be rewarded with wealth and safety. You have my word.” 
The words he was saying sounded so promising. But a piece of you was asking yourself if you could trust him. This wasn’t the Coriolanus he was a few moments ago inside the building, it was something much different. 
A part of him was showing you vulnerability and empathy. He opened your hand and saw the petals piled in your hand. His fingers gently ran over the burn mark over your forearm. His touch sent euphoric shock waves through you; your stomach muscles tightened when you felt the fluttering. He took the top one between his thumb and index finger. 
“The wrong of unshapely things is a wrong too great to be told; I hunger to build them anew and sit on a green knoll apart,” he rubbed the petal between his fingers as he spoke the words quietly. “With the earth and the sky and the water, re-made like a casket of gold. For my dreams of your image that blossoms a rose in the deeps of my heart. [*]” He finally looked at you, he leaned in close and kissed your cheek. 
You listened to him recite the poem. Your heart did a little leap against your chest when he stepped in closer to you. You closed your hand around the rest of the petals. 
“It’s said that the poet wrote it about his long-term love. A woman - a strong, revolutionary woman - he just couldn’t have,” Coriolanus said. He briefly brushed his fingertips against the apples of your cheeks. “She left a lingering impression on him. A powerfully beautiful one.” 
A rush of heat filled your cheeks at his soft touch. “How did it end?” You let out a nervous chuckle hearing the sounds of the Peacekeepers outside the greenhouse. “Time’s up.” You murmured taking a side step around him and exiting the greenhouse. He followed you out. 
“It ended. But I like to think it could always be rewritten,” Coriolanus smiled at you, one that wasn’t for the cameras. “Please come to the celebration. Something will be waiting for you at your home.” He went in the opposite direction of you. 
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You sat opposite on the bed facing Beau as he rested against the headboard of your bed. He had finished early at the restaurant and went to ‘visit’ the village. He knocked on your door, you happily let him inside. The two of you stumbled your way into the bed, you were unsure what to call what you had - but you were willing to keep it a secret if necessary. 
You stretched out your legs, tucking your feet underneath your pillow. Beau leaned over and kissed your knees softly. You smiled lazily when he brushed his lips against them. “Can I confess something and you promise not to be upset?” 
“I will only get upset if you talk about my cooking,” he joked, leaning back to lock his gaze on you. Your eyes glanced over his bare chest, the tattoos that scattered over his arms. 
“I think Coriolanus Snow is smitten.” 
“Oh? With who? With me?” He pointed to himself and laughed, scooting to the middle of the bed, gently dragging you to him. You acted like it was such an inconvenience but then happily straddled his lap. You kissed him softly, and he immediately responded. 
“Maybe.” You wiggled your eyebrows and nipped at his jawline. Then, you heard a knock at the door. “Probably the neighbor. I’ll check.” You kissed him quickly, moving out of the bed, quickly yanking on your trousers and slipping on his shirt. Then you hurried to the door when the knock came again aggressively. “Coming!” You opened the door and arched an eyebrow seeing an official staff from the Capitol. 
“Miss Heavensbee?” They smiled impolitely, holding out the box to you. “This is for you. From President Snow.” Once you had the box, the staff member went on their way. 
“Thanks...” You muttered as you closed the door, then headed back to the bedroom. You dropped the box down on the bed. “A gift from Snow.” You said unsure as you chuckled nervously. 
Beau raised his eyebrows, and let out a weak laugh. “Smitten...” He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly and then looked up at you. “Are you going to open it?” 
“Uh-huh.” You knitted your eyebrows as you ungracefully tore open the box to reveal a beautiful yellow gown. You pulled it out of the box, raising your eyebrows - speechless. 
Beau whistled when you unraveled the dress holding it against your frame. “Very nice.” He smiled at you quickly before it fell from his lips. “You don’t need a fancy dress. But you’ll look beautiful wearing it.” 
“Thank you. I think?” This was the gift he mentioned to you. You wondered if the other victors received anything. You gently placed the gown back down over the box, tapping your fingers against your lips taking in the neat tailoring and nods to bees, not noticing Beau getting up from the bed to put on his bottoms and holding out his hand for his shirt. “Huh?” you looked him over confused, your eyebrows knitted together. “You’re leaving?” 
“Yeah. I forgot I have to check something at the restaurant.” He gave you a half-smirk but you could see something was bothering him. You tugged off his shirt and gave it back to him. “I’ll see you at the celebration, bumblebee.” He leaned over and kissed your forehead, then turned to leave the room. You frowned and went after him. 
“Beau - wait -” You started to say but he only smiled at you, gave a little wave, as he walked out of your house, closing the door behind him. 
You crossed your arms over your bare chest glancing inside the bedroom at the gown. You should have pushed Beau to stay a little longer. He and you could have talked a little longer about anything. You found yourself frowning. 
You picked at your nails as you headed back into the bedroom to hang your dress. Inside the box was a letter, it was from your uncle. 
You unfolded it and saw the yellow rose petal fall from it. 
“Dearest niece,  Be careful who you get close to and trust.  This is the Capitol. It can turn people into beings unknown.  -P.H.” 
❀ Yellow roses symbolize friendship, joy, and new beginnings. During the Victorian era, they were once used to communicate jealousy and mistrust. [*]
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yardsards · 1 year
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more taz balance thoughts:
you ever think about how in real life, the names "john" and "johann" are just different translations of the exact same name
and how the characters of john and johann are foils, in a way
how both characters had their ideas spread throughout the multiverse, whose ideas were heard by everyone, who showed what power a word or a story or a song could have on the world
how john started off as a motivational speaker, meant to spread hope and satisfaction. how johann's first appearance showed him as unsatisfied and hopeless, meant to be forgotten.
how john ended up spreading hopelessness, how johann ended up becoming a beacon of hope
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twixtedspoon · 7 months
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the final parlay.
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umbraastaff · 1 year
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It really is wild how much balance's Faerun is a victim of circumstance. Literally just a bunch of aliens came down and brought their war in with them. They totally overwrote the world's current political goings-on by injecting a new war for artifacts of powers beyond mortal comprehension, stopped that by wiping the minds of everyone on the planet, and then ended up luring in a massive eldritch presence that forced all the people of the world to fight against it again. The memory and agency stripped from every single person in a whole universe. Even the divine, their prophecies and paperwork twisted towards this strange new calling. Fuck, dude, the Moon's been fake for years.
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just1gnome · 11 months
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i cant get him off my mind
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