I'm rewatching hunger games for I don't know what time now, and the third movie, when the people are revolving and dying in order to destroy and kill the regime makes me cry so hard.
The chorus part of "hanging tree"? DEAD
It resonates too deeply with me and the war at home and earlier I maybe didn't get it, but I do get it now.
I find it so stupid when people don't like Cruel Prince series because it wasn't smutty enough.
The scene when the Bomb is taking out Jude's stitches and is telling Cardan to leave. Jude says, Oh I don't know maybe he'd like to hear me scream. And cardan says, I would. And perhaps one day I will.
That was just so hot, that's enough smut for my ace ass
At thirteen, Liora begins choosing the mortal world over Elfhame. Jude wants to believe it’s a phase. Cardan knows better. But neither can stop her from drifting—least of all themselves.
The first time Liora asked to stay in the mortal world longer—not for a quick visit, not for a diplomatic errand, but truly stay, for a year at least—Jude's first thought was: What did I do wrong?
"Is something bothering you here?" Jude asked, her tone deceptively mild.
Cardan, seated beside her in his slouched sprawl of a throne, arched a lazy brow. He was adorned in shadow-dyed velvet, the gleam of his crown catching torchlight as though even flame bowed to him. But beneath the indulgent facade, Jude saw how still he had gone.
Liora looked at both of them with that maddening mix of innocence and calculation—too much like her father, Jude thought bitterly, and then hated herself for thinking it.
"I just want to see what it's like," Liora said, fingers fussing with the braid over her shoulder. "To be... somewhere normal. Where no one curtsies. Where the trees don’t whisper."
"You don’t need to run off to the mortal world for that," Jude said, too quickly. "You can ignore courtesies here. We do."
Liora’s eyes narrowed slightly—just slightly. She had a mortal’s lack of glamour, but she’d learned other ways to cut.
"You don’t," she said.
· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·
Jude tried to be rational. She had always been rational. And still, she watched the Hollow Hall servants pack her daughter's things as if they were funeral garments.
"You're thirteen," she said the night before Liora left for the house her Aunt Vivi had in the mortal realm with her mortal lover Aunt Heather. "You don’t even know what you’re asking."
Liora looked up from the books she was stacking into a satchel. “Maybe I don’t. But I won’t find out staying here.”
“Here is your home.”
"Then why does it feel like I'm always wearing armor in it?"
Jude opened her mouth, and closed it again.
· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·
That summer, Liora didn’t come home.
She wrote—stilted, polite letters. Jude responded with overly formal ones at first, as though diplomacy would bring her daughter back. Cardan, of course, replied to Liora with rambling notes filled with nonsense poetry, tales of court gossip, and sly references to Jude’s brooding.
“She’s thirteen,” Jude snapped one night as they argued on the ramparts. “What if something happens to her?”
“She was raised by you,” Cardan replied, and his smile was soft, maddening. “She’ll either outwit the danger or stab it in the throat.”
“That’s not comforting.”
“It’s the truth.”
· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·
In the mortal realm, Liora wore hoodies instead of gowns. She walked to school alone. She learned to bike down winding roads where no sprites tangled her hair. She began to dream without remembering magic.
There were days she forgot what it felt like to have power thrumming in her blood—days she liked forgetting.
But sometimes she’d wake up reaching for a knife under her pillow that wasn’t there. Sometimes she’d step through the trees and swear she heard them whisper her name.
· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·
“She’s not like us,” Jude said one night, pacing the tower room where no one could see her softness.
Cardan was sprawled on their bed, a book resting on his chest, unread. “Of course she’s not. She’s herself.”
“You don’t get it. I clawed my way into Faerie. I chose it. She’s running the other way.”
“You wanted her to belong here and she does,” he said lightly. “She just chose not to be.”
"I wanted her to survive."
"So did I, my dear mortal darling. And she is surviving. Just... somewhere else."
· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·
On her fourteenth birthday, Liora didn’t come.
There was no letter that time. Just silence.
And the strange, awful thing was: Jude understood.
Not forgave. Not condoned.
But understood.
Because once, she too had looked at a world that raised her, loved her, shaped her—and still chose another.
the way haymitch must have seen it as all his ghosts coming back to haunt him at once when katniss walked onto the train with the face of burdock and asterid, the pin of maysilee, the voice of lenore dove, and a background so devastatingly similar to his own. of course sweetheart slipped out. and of course he did everything he could to keep her alive
Men use “I’m just a man” to cheat on their wives. Odysseus uses “I’m just a man” to kill, slay and torture people to get back to HIS wife. They are not the same.
For some reason I don't like reader x character fics just because it feels so wrong for that character to be in love with someone other than their love interest!!😭😭 I can appreciate the writing and I don't mind when people make them it's just I never purposely seek out them ykwim?