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Ink and Flowers - 21. 21: Emmett
All I had wanted was a good-humored evening. In pretty clothes, made up, with good company and delicious drinks. An evening that would help me decide what I actually wanted.
Because: I had discussed with Tony what a redress-thing with Finley should look like, and apart from the important point that it had to be a place where I felt comfortable, it also had to be something where we could have a good conversation - preferably without scaring humans off. The result was dinner at the Golden Leaf, a fae restaurant.
Only: this had a flavor of date and I had no idea if I wanted to go down that path. Accordingly, tonight was supposed to involve a bit of flirting with Finley to see how that felt.
I mean, seriously, knowing that he was more than a little interested built up some pressure to make a decision.
Well. And then there was Steven, and the blackout, and that damn pool game. If I'd known how to play - I don't, Mike tried to teach me at every opportunity for two years - things would have been different, but I felt a bit left out. And since Finley was fully focused on the colorful balls despite some initial grumbling, I didn't have much choice but to, well, watch.
The icing on the cake was the pungent animal-smelling shapeshifter, who didn't care at all that I a) told him I wasn't interested, b) pointed out in no uncertain terms that I wasn't here alone and c) asked to be let go when he thought physical contact might change my mind.
My mouth went dry as the guy described with a subliminal purr how he was going to peel my clothes off my body. My steadily increasing discomfort slowly tipped towards fear. I didn't want to listen to him, didn't want to be touched by him, didn't even want to be in the same room as him.
The only thing keeping him and his desire from actually acting was probably my aura. But auras can't be used in a targeted way and because I didn't want to sedate the whole pub - there were almost only humans present - I couldn't amplify my aura indefinitely.
“ - what do you say, huh?” he purred and squeezed my wrist a little tighter.
“No.” I replied, but my voice wasn't half as confident as I would have liked. With someone like him wearing real leather as a 'half animal', I couldn't help but imagine him peeling off even more of me than just my clothes.
“Oooowwww...” he pouted, ”how about you rethink your answer?”
My mental question of how to rephrase a no in a foolproof way went unanswered because I saw from the corner of my eye Finley stomping up, his timing was stunning.
Or maybe Finley was the answer, because his “hey” was almost spat out. His face was expressionless, but I could see it twitching around his eyes, more than that, I could sense he was angry.
Probably it was my subconscious trying to make myself small and inconspicuous and my aura shrank noticeably.
The shapeshifter's eyes flashed promptly, but presumably only I saw the roll of his eyes directed at Finley. Slowly, he turned around. As if to make it clear that he had already laid claim, his fingernails pressed into my skin and I winced as he caught a tendon. He eyed Finley and then growled snidely, “What do you want?”
Relief spread through me as Finley's brows drew together. He'd say something like 'I'm a big bad... whatever he was... and you're a little shapeshifter and that one belongs to me' and then it would be settled. I hoped.
“That you let go of my boyfriend,” Finley growled in response.
My ears twitched at the term, but I was well aware of why he said it.
The guy raised an unimpressed eyebrow, high and higher, which at first looked imposing, then somehow wrong. He snorted slightly in amusement. “And I’m supposed to believe a fatty has such a handsome boyfriend?”
“Finley's not fat,” I said indignantly. Honestly, better twenty kilos too many on the ribs than a shitty character, and anyway, have you taken a look at Finley's butt? But the two of them didn't seem to notice me at all, because Finley simply said:
“Some men have taste.”
Laughing, the guy pointed at himself. “Yes, absolutely.” As if his skintight clothes were proof of any taste. Then he casually pointed at me. “And I've got a date, thanks and fuck off.”
With manners like that, it was no surprise he didn't get a date the normal way.
“Let him go.” Finley said calm, dangerously calm, but the shapeshifter just laughed.
“Or what?”
“Or I'll make sure you let him go.”
He laughed again and my hope of a peaceful resolution vanished when he dug his fingernails into my skin and then let go.
However, the same hand then landed as a fist in Finley's face.
“Finley!” I squeaked out in shock. My instincts were screaming at me to run away from the fight about to begin, but I fought it. The drop of blood beading on Finley's lip and then running down his chin helped.
He was trying to protect me from the creep and got hurt in the process, I had to stay, heal him...
For a moment - probably only two or three heartbeats - Finley stood there completely unresponsive. He looked a bit like an imbecile who had no idea what to do, now that his plan had failed.
But then his eyes lit up golden. Not the typical yellow-gold of shapeshifters, no, golden like classic wedding rings. His body suddenly radiated a tremendous warmth.
I blinked, taken aback.
And then he grabbed the shapeshifter by the collar and belt. He didn't just drag him along, oh no, he lifted him up and carried him away.
“Hey! What are you doing you moron?” The guy kicked and thrashed around, cursing wildly.
“Finley, put him down!” I shouted and started to follow him, but then I paused, stunned. Due to the growing distance, I could now see that Finley was surrounded by a full-body halo.
I had read about it, seen a drawing. But that had been about Fey warriors who had a so-called beast form - a kind of shapeshifter - and who gained such a halo when they tapped into the power of their other form without shifting. Finley certainly wasn't a fey, but I had no idea what other creatures were capable of something like that.
“For God's sake, what are you doing?” exclaimed Jake in horror.
A quick glance told me that the others had rushed over.
“Holy shit.” Mike muttered and Ben mumbled a Spanish curse.
The other guests were getting restless, but presumably it wasn't the first time a fight had happened here, because someone gave the order to open the doors. Two men rushed over and held them open - brave, I thought, the way the shapeshifter was kicking and lashing out.
Finley didn't seem to mind the fierce resistance at all. Like the halo, a cloud of rage literally surrounded him, the strength of which astounded me. Completely unperturbed, he stepped onto the small forecourt of a park opposite the Burger Bill and threw the other man off as if he were just a doll.
The shapeshifter was probably a tiger, as the tattoo on his arm suggested, because he skillfully spun in the air and landed on all fours. With an angry hiss, he raised his head.
And Finley had nothing better to do than take a provocative stance.
I was grateful that he had intervened, I understood that he didn't like the shapeshifter's reaction, it was okay for him to put a bully out in the open, but he should leave it at that and not add to it.
If I had followed him slowly at first, I now hurried the last bit. I could feel the restlessness of the other guests, some of it laced with fear - it fueled my own restlessness and need to calm things down.
I reached for my aura, amplified it, and, wanting to force it on Finley, reached for him as well. “Finley, stop this shit!” My voice was way too loud, I realized, but that's when a fiery hot flare of Finley's emotions hit me with full force, barely filtered by the fact that I was just holding his shirt and there was no skin contact.
Alongside the anger, there was a deep need, an urge - I could only guess for what - along with a bitter determination and will to fight that scared me.
My aura wavered and slipped under this onslaught, falling back to its normal strength and range. Still, I couldn't let the two of them fight, hurt each other... Fighting was such a stupid thing to do!
“He didn't do anything!” I shouted to Finley. Well, nothing was relative. But nothing that justified such a reaction in my eyes.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the shapeshifter trying to undress to save his clothes from the shift. I could already see it working under his skin.
I tugged at Finley's shirt, but before I could say more, he snapped harshly:
“Get your ass inside and stay there.”
Indignant for giving me an order like I was one of his former comrades, and angry for him not seeing reason and just giving up on this absolutely idiotic plan to fight with this bully, I snapped back, “Don't tell me what to do! It's insane to want to fight!” My voice had become a little shrill, but I could feel the shapeshifter's shifting pain.
More than hearing his groan, I could feel it, but the tearing of his clothes was unmistakable. His skin turned orange, matching orange fur sprouted on his face, his spine bent inhumanly.
“Get inside!” repeated Finley sharply over the crunching of bones.
“Cut the crap!”
“If you don’t want to end up as a snack for that oversized pussycat” - yes, it was obvious by now that the guy really was a tiger – “you’ll go inside and let me handle this,” Finley growled, tension and anticipation rolling over him.
“Why did you-” But into my question as to why he had provoked the other man so much in the first place, he added:
“Can someone please take this nutter out of the line of fire?”
Nutter?!
“Who's nuts?” I snapped indignantly, my voice pitching a little too high.
“Well I don't want to end up a tigersnack,” I heard Ben mutter and that's when Jake and Mike grabbed me by the arms and pulled me away from Finley.
“Whatever he is, let him handle this,” Jake said sternly as I tried to break away.
Meanwhile, the tiger's shift was complete, a few shreds stuck to his fur, a sock he shook off one hind paw.
“I like cats,” Mike said, fear rising from him, ”but this is a few sizes too big for my liking.”
The two of them only let go of me after Steven and another man had closed the double doors of the Burger Bill - as if that would keep a tiger from entering. Since they had big glass windows, at least we could see out; the way Finley was standing in front of it, he looked like the bouncer to a hip club. But I had to admit I felt a bit trapped.
We flinched as one when the tiger jumped. Now it was Mike who was holding on to me.
“Sweet Jesus.” Jake mumbled, strangely breathless, but by then Finley had already wiped the tiger out of the air with a well-aimed punch.
The punch hurt the tiger, the way he hit the ground hurt, the way his claws arched as he tried to find his footing hurt.
Every blow, every impact, every claw meeting flesh... I felt the pain, the damage they were inflicting on each other, those huge idiots out there, and it hurt me and it made me so angry because it was so pointless, and it made me angry because Mike and Jake were forcing me to stand idly by. Every time I moved, they held me back, even though they were scared and worried too.
And Finley was the biggest idiot of all! He was hurt, I could sense the blood running down his leg, but he carried on with this silly antics.
“God, Finley's puffing like an old locomotive,” Mike muttered at one point and Jake muttered back:
“Where there's smoke, there's fire.”
“Very philosophical,” Steven scoffed, but before I could think any more about it, Finley grabbed the tiger by the tail.
The way the tiger roared when Finley pulled, you'd have thought his tail got ripped off. The painful stinging in my chest spoke for itself. It made me gasp and writhe.
Pain and rage and horror wrestled in my chest. How could anyone inflict such pain on someone? How could Finley inflict such pain on this man over such a trifle?
But now at least I understood what my father and others had tried to explain to me while I insisted on leaving the coven. “The world out there is full of anger and hate, Emmett. We aren't made to endure it, and you even less so. Our mixed blood may enhance our abilities, but it also increases our weaknesses.”
“Are you okay?” Jake asked, pulling me back upright in a half hug.
“I think it's over,” Ben said slowly at the same moment.
My gaze drifted outside.
Finley's halo was just disappearing.
The shapeshifter lay against the wall next to the park entrance, his legs twitching weakly. He needed help, instantly.
My instincts carried me forward and in the fresh air, which reeked of pain to my senses, another thread of patience snapped. “Are you satisfied now?” I shouted at Finley. Disgust filled me as I realized that yes, there was some satisfaction emanating from him.
He looked at me, almost puzzled. “Where are you going?” He reached for me, but my attempt to shake him off remained just that: an attempt.
“To heal him! What do you think?” But there was also something sublime about him that confused me. A certain pride, strength, calm, even his look and his grip, which was gentler than it could have been, seemed to say that nothing had ever happened, everything was fine. And that's exactly the Finley I wanted, the gentle, shy man who made wreaths of flowers, not this idiotic macho fellow.
“If you heal him now, you’ll really end up a tiger snack. Or he'll just keep going,” Finley said seriously and with a fine frown.
“He's hurt, Finley! Because of you!”
“He has self-healing powers, Emmett! And someone in there has surely called an ambulance.” He got loud, and with the voice he had, I didn't like that one bit.
“He's in pain!”
“You stay here!”
“You're crazy to just like start this shit in a pub-”
“Calm down!”
“Don't tell me to calm down!” My voice cut shrilly into my ears. “He has-”
“He held you against your will! He scared you! Do you think he would have listened to your no?”
I stumbled as Finley suddenly let go of me and glared at him angrily. Anger was better than fear.
“When would you have started fighting back, huh?”
I hated his tone, now back to soft and soothing, with him standing just there. “You could have killed him,” I accused him.
“If I wanted to, I would have done it right there at the counter.”
This nonchalance...
The matching image in my head, what had happened, couldn't be aligned with the Finley I knew and liked. It tightened my throat. “You're disgusting!”
I had to get out of here. So I left. Stormed off and although my inner being protested in agony, I left the shapeshifter behind. I was in no condition to heal, I was in no condition to do anything, even my aura had vanished.
You're running away, again.
I'm not running away, I'm storming off in a rage, there's a difference.
You can't just leave it at that.
I don't want to talk to him, not like this. Not after what he's just done.
How is he supposed to know what he did wrong if you don't tell him?
After this inner debate, I stopped, burying my fingers in my hair.
He could have handled it so much more peacefully, more considerately. He could have just pushed that bully aside, even after the first punch. He could have been the better man. Could have put an arm around me, said something like 'an asshole like you isn't worth my energy' and together we would have went back to the others. I would have leaned into the half hug, knowing I was safe.
But no, Mr. MORRTIMER has to flex his muscles.
The anger flared up again, but my inner voice was right, I had to tell him. So I turned around and stomped back.
The critical, worried looks from Jake and Mike and Ben didn't make my mood any better.
Then the words literally burst out of me. “How dare you! How dare you start an idiotic bar fight right in front of me!” I couldn't help but emphasize my words at the look on his face: with my fist, I hit him on the chest. However, there was a reason why his shirt was hanging in tatters and I caught one of the cuts.
Although he had raised a hand, in the end he made no effort to fend me off, instead grunting in pain.
I pointed at him accusingly. “How dare you hurt a humanoid in front of me like that? Harm him?” Because he just looked at me dumbly, I hit him again. “How dare you keep me from my instincts and allow someone to suffer pain? To the point where I don't even have all my senses together right now to be able to heal at all!” He probably only half understood what I was trying to say, but that wasn't the point.
“Emmett, I-” he started cautiously, but I wasn't finished, not by a long shot.
I punched a third time and as it twitched around his eyes, I realized what I was doing. I was hurting him, inflicting pain. I hated myself for it. “How dare you-”
-stand there looking so smug? Without telling me that everything is alright now. Without admitting that you're hurting, without asking for my help. How dare you even let yourself get hurt for me? How can you let me get so completely out of balance?
But I didn't get that far.
“And now let's just leave it at that, shall we?” interjected Steven in a generous tone, suddenly appearing next to Finley, and I was stunned to see that his eyes were as golden as Finley's had been two minutes ago. He grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me with him, away from Finley. “You'll stop hitting that rude brute and come with me, will you, Glitterboy?”
Finley stared at him caught off guard and even hissed in surprise; his light brown eyes flared gold.
“What the...” it came quietly from Mike, Ben made an indefinable noise.
The almost triumphant smile playing around Steven's lips scared me.
Finley began to growl. Deep and rumbling and definitely not a human sound. But not just that, the growl became a hiss, changed - he spoke.
Steven twitched strangely. He said something back, Finley laughed a reply in his face and then Steven let go of me. He looked embarrassed.
Confused, I looked from one to the other, but no longer had the capacity to think about it.
The strange stupor of shock was interrupted by Jake turning away and hurrying inside; after a look to Ben and Mike that seemed apologetic, Steven walked away.
With a minimal shake of his head, Finley watched him go.
A few people now came out of the Burger Bill and hurried past us, presumably towards the shapeshifter. My inner being wanted to help him, but I couldn't have at the moment, even if I'd really wanted to. It wasn't that I didn't want to, it was more of a stunned indifference.
I glanced at Finley, who looked indecisive, and then at Jake, who held out my jacket to me.
“Here, you're shivering.”
I hadn't even realized. With a nod, I grabbed it and slipped into it, while he held Finley's jacket out to him.
“You need a new shirt, but at least it won't show.”
“Thanks,” Finley mumbled and shrugged the jacket on.
Mike muttered critically, “And a new pair of pants.”
“Hmmm.”
Another moment of awkward silence, then Jake made a strange gesture with his hand. “Get lost. We'll sort out the rest.” A subtle frown flitted across his face. “If there's anything to sort out.”
Finley nodded and then turned to me. “Come on, I'll bring you home.” He took a first step before I could react and winced.
“You're hurt.” I tried to hold him back by the sleeve, but he shook his head.
“It's not bad, my self-healing is working on it.”
“You're in pain.” I could still feel it. “Let me help you.”
“It's okay, I've had worse.”
“Settle it on the way, Fin should disappear,” Jake interjected and Mike gave me a gentle push.
As a parting gift, I gave him a dirty look. “Why am I being escorted home like a minor?”
“Because it's safe there. Your threshold magic is strong, you have extra protection wards,” Finley said matter-of-factly. Because he just walked off, I followed him out of necessity.
“The shapeshifter is unlikely to follow me.”
“Does anyone know?” Finley gave me a wry look.
I snorted in annoyance and hoped the moronic tiger had better things to do. “I'm not getting in your rover while you're hurt.”
“It's just a few scratches, Emmett.”
“I'm a healer and I can feel your pain, so don't lie to me!”, I snapped and he actually flinched.
A little surprised and uncomfortable, but also as if he'd just had a moment of enlightenment, he looked at me. “Okay,” he relented.
Running a hand through my hair, I sighed. Now I just had to refocus myself enough to actually heal him.
We walked on in silence, passing the still and dark Tempest. The sight was strange. But my aura came back, flowed out of me and seemed to be visible for a moment before it finally stabilized.
The Range Rover was parked almost directly under a streetlight and Finley glanced upwards scowling before glancing downwards - at his leg - no less scowling. The pants were torn and blood-soaked on the upper half of his thigh, already halfway across his butt. “The tattoo's fucked.”
“That's what you're worried about now?” I frowned at him and he shrugged. With that, I shook my head and stepped closer. “Can I heal you now?” I wanted to know. My left hand trembled a little as I lifted it; the emotional outburst had left me tired, but I was sure that I could access my abilities - my true nature - without any problems.
He nodded silently and opened his jacket, his lips twitching - did he want to say something? Was he trying to smile? Was he holding one back?
I pushed the thought aside and put my hand on his chest, sliding two fingertips through the tears in his shirt to make skin contact. His inner calm and composure helped me to concentrate.
Because he had spoken of his magic resistance, I gathered a bit of healing energy and then thrust it vigorously in his direction, expecting said resistance.
Only, there was none of it. My magic washed over him, pouring into him with force, as if I wanted to drown him in it.
A jolt went through Finley, straightened his spine and his head tipped back slightly. A moan escaped him that actually sounded lustful.
Confused, I pulled my hand back.
“Holy shit...” he mumbled breathlessly.
“Sorry, I... I thought your magic resistance...” Uncertain, I took a step back. His dreamy smile with half-closed eyes admittedly confused me, because healing isn't usually a pleasurable business.
He blinked at me and then blushed. “That's not normal,” he stated.
“Do you think I'm not normal?”
“What? No, I definitely didn't mean that.” He shook his head hastily. “That's never happened to me before.”
The way he said it, I had to stop myself from sliding my gaze down his body.
He cleared his throat sheepishly.
As well as a change of subject, an apology was needed, so I said: “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have freaked out like that. I did-”
“I'm sorry too,” he interrupted me. “I let my instincts get the better of me. I told you I am a protector and-”
“I can't put those two sides of you together in my head.”
“I didn't want you to- I didn't realize what that would do to you.”
“I've never felt this way before, but I shouldn't have said- You're not disgusting. We're just both struggling with our instincts.”
“I shouldn't have gone against your instincts.”
“Thank you,” I interrupted the cycle of apologies.
Puzzled, he blinked.
“For being there.” I tried for a smile, but it didn't really work. I really could have used a hug right now, the kind of support he'd given me after the incident with Dex.
“I'm here whenever you need me,” he replied gently, but again with a subtle blush on his face.
Not knowing what to say, I simply nodded.
We looked at each other silently for a moment, then he let the door lock beep. In the process of climbing in, his pants ripped open a little more and I could see parts of the destroyed tattoo - rune circles in chain, intricate work. Tony would have fun analyzing it.
Staring out of the window into the darkness as we went, I felt very small and lost.
“I like your hair,” Finley said so suddenly that I flinched.
“Hmm?” I said, puzzled.
He gave me a quick wry smile. “Matches your eyes.”
“What... oh.” Hurriedly, I flipped down the sun visor and slid open the mirror inside - yes, a layer of my human mask had slipped off and now revealed my true hair color. I would take care of that at home, I didn't have the nerves for it now.
I looked at myself for a moment before closing the mirror and folding up the sun visor. I felt like crying.
“What's wrong?”
“Nothing.” I mumbled dismissively, even though it wasn't true.
“Liar.” he said quietly but gently.
I sighed. And sighed again when he made a questioning sound. “Look at me- no! Look at the road! But- ugh! I mean- when a woman is attacked or even raped, there are enough people who ask 'what was she wearing' first.”
“No. Oh no, you don't-”
“A man with makeup and nail polish-”
“Emmett!” He growled my name and I winced. “People who say things like that are retards and exactly the kind of people who reduce women or men solely to their sexuality and approach them for that very reason and have trouble taking no for an answer. Like this nice tiger. Where does this world go when we all just put on boring clothes and avoid making ourselves chic, feeling comfortable, just to form a gray mass without any conspicuous features? Then these people reduce everyone else even further to their appearance and at some point it's 'yes, but she could have dyed her hair or hidden it or made her breasts smaller' or the devil knows.”
“But-”
“Emmett. Tony the Tiger wanted his Frosted Flakes and I bet he didn't care what kind of bowl they came in.”
“But-”
“No.” Finley gave me a serious look. “Any predator with their senses in check and paying attention to you for more than two seconds will notice your vulnerability. Make-up or no make-up.”
“But-”
“It's not the victim's fault.”
I swallowed, because that's exactly how I felt right now. “You're a predator too,” I remarked quietly.
“That's right. But mainly a protector.”
There was a pause, but because the road wasn't long anymore, I couldn't bring myself to pick up on any other topic. The silence was accordingly uncomfortable, but after what had happened at the Burger Bill, it could only get better.
Eventually Finley parked and I got out, but I literally held on to the door. I had the feeling the matter wasn't over and wanted to say something else, but I couldn't find the right words.
“Hey.” Finley said over the slam of his door. “What's up?” He came around the rover and looked at me worriedly.
A little helplessly, I shrugged, still chewing on the words because a simple 'sorry' wasn't enough.
“I'm sorry,” he said quietly. “For letting things escalate like that. I... I was just trying to protect you. I told you I would, and you've only just recovered from Dex and then another guy like that...”
The tears came without warning, but they seemed to loosen the knot in my tongue. “I'm sorry,” I stammered as I tried to wipe the tears away. “Gods, I hurt you and I was mean and I didn't mean it...” I wiped makeup into my eyes, which stung, but then it kind of didn't matter because Finley gently pulled me into a hug.
“It's okay,” he whispered. “For a peace-loving creature, you pack a nice punch and at that moment you very much meant it, but I know what you're trying to say.”
That made me really cry now and I pressed my face against him, wrapping my arms around him as he rubbed my back soothingly. “I'm sorry,” I sobbed nonetheless.
“It's okay, Emmett, it's okay. We're good.”
I nodded and snuggled up to him a little more. He was like a rock in the surf, only warm, and the hissing and gurgling in his chest was like soothing white noise.
Slowly, I calmed down and after one last sniffle, I let go of him and leaned back, looking at him.
“Better?” he asked carefully.
I nodded silently. This second emotional outburst in a very short space of time left me feeling empty and exhausted, my limbs felt like rubber. “Good night, Finley.” Somehow I got the words out and he nodded, smiling weakly.
“Tony's here. Talk to him. And then... try to sleep.”
I nodded again, mumbled a toneless thanks and trotted off.
Tony was sitting at the dining table, his laptop in front of him and an empty wine glass next to him. “Hey.” he greeted without looking up.
“Hey.” I greeted him back. “Why are you drinking wine alone?” That was so unusual that I couldn't just pass it over.
“Research,” he replied evasively. “Any new findings regarding your maybe-date on Friday?” he deflected.
“No.”
Puzzled, he raised his eyes and scrutinized me as I approached. “You look like shit. What happened?”
“I feel like shit,” I replied honestly.
To my surprise, he simply closed the laptop and rose. “You go wash the pitiful remnants of make-up off your face and I'll make some tea. And then you tell me. How does that sound?”
“Good.” I nodded and stalked towards the bathroom.
I just couldn't get these two sides of Finley put together. But then, I thought, it was probably better to get to know this Finley now, before I'd even decided whether this friendship could become something more, than later, when more serious things had already grown out of it. Somehow I doubted that the delicate beginnings of a relationship would have survived something like this. Something more solid? More likely, but you had to get there first.
Is he the grizzly disguised as a teddy bear, or the teddy bear next to the pillow with a bit of grizzly left in it?
- 8
- 7
- 4
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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