#I want to toss this out here but I’m also afraid of being perceived so 👍 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

theartofdreaming1 · 3 years

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Katniss, bravely stepping inbetween Gale and Thread (and his whip) - she’s so courageous and protective, she deserves the world 😭

As usual, my thoughts regarding this week’s prompts and (many) random thoughts on chapters 7-9 are below the cut. (Is it just me, or are my notes getting longer and longer with each and every post? I swear, this book is so meaty, we’ll soon reach the point where I have to type out the entire chapter, with my thoughts in the margins)

heart

“Gale is mine. I am his. Anything else in unthinkable.”

I think these words are a result of Katniss being so afraid of losing Gale that she’s kinda overcompensating; their relationship has been strained these past few months and they’d just had a row, separating from each other on bad terms - and the next time she sees him, he’s been whipped so bad that he’s lost consciousness and could be potentially dying from his wounds. Of course she’s so terrified of losing him, that she’s holding on as tightly as she can to him. It’s important to keep in mind how important their relationship is to her and we see that in her preceding thoughts: What a pair we were - fatherless, frightened, but fiercely commited, too, to keeping our families alive. Desperate, yet no longer alone after that day, because we’d found each other. I think of a hundred moments in the woods, lazy afternoons fishing, the day I taught him to swim, that time I twisted my knee and he carried me home. Mutually counting each other, watching each other’s backs, forcing each other to be brave. - Gale was the first person who was her equal, a kindred spirit, her partner. After Katniss had lost both of her parents when her father died and her mother succumbed to her depression - the people who were supposed to care for her and guide her through growing up - she was stuck with the role of sole provider and protector of her family at age eleven. She must have been so lonely all this time until she met this boy who understood what she was going through and they learned from each other and shouldered their burdens together, to take off some of the overwhelming pressure. Of course that relationship, of course Gale is important to her. But also now their relationship has become more fragile, after the Games they are in danger of growing apart - it’s got to be so terrifying to feel like the one proper, mutual relationship you’ve had seems to be slipping through your fingers. With everything that’s going on, her entire life as it is teetering on the razor’s edge (heck, the president himself has been threatening her and her family!), it’s no wonder that Katniss is craving that familiarity and safety that her relationship with Gale used to provide her with. And seeing Gale in this state just has her holding on to him more tightly than ever.

mind

Hmm, no big moment is coming to my mind right now; I think I’m always most impressed by the tiny moments that show how tenacious, resilient and fiercely kind humans can be - like Darius stepping forward to stop Gale’s cruel punishment, Leevy volunteering to tell Hazelle about Gale and promising to stay with the Hawthorne children, Madge bringing the morphling, Katniss pressing Darius’s hand in the Training Center, Twill taking Bonnie with her to flee to D13 and so on.

soul

I believe that Katniss was honestly surprised to learn that Gale had feelings for her; she had categorically shut down the idea of entering a romantic relationship for herself, so I don’t think she’d seriously consider anyone being romantically interested in her in return (that’s not how that works, of course, but I think that’s how she perceived the whole shtick). Their kiss threw her completely for a loop and if anything, she mostly saw it as something that contributed to the deterioration of their previous, easy and comfortable relationship.

Chapter 7

A mockingjay is a creature the Capitol never intended to exist. [...] They hadn’t anticipated its will to live. - In a way, the Capitol continues to make this mistake with the people living in the districts, too - underestimating their will to live (opposed to just surviving)

I look in his [Gale’s] eyes. His temper can’t quite mask the hurt, the sense of betrayal he feels at my engagement to Peeta. This will be my last chance, this meeting today, to not lose Gale forever. - Okay, we don’t know how much Katniss might be (incorrectly) presuming here, but the idea that Gale might feel betrayal because his best friend is being forced into an engagement pisses me off. It’s fine if he’s feeling jealous because she’s being paired off with Peeta when he wishes he could have a shot with her, but how in the world does this even rate as a betrayal?! A) It’s done against her will and B) Just because they’re friends doesn’t mean Katniss owes him anything when we’re talking about romantic feelings... Ugh 😒 Also, it’s quite noteworthy how insecure Katniss feels about their relationship - she’s constantly worried Gale will drop her and their friendship (waiting for Gale after the camera teams left after winning the Games: I’d begun to think that he’d given up on me in the weeks that had passed.- Ch. 2) and it doesn’t help that she’s been through that extreme, traumatic experience without him and they haven’t had much opportunity to spend a lot of time with each other (with the Victory Tour and Gale having to work so much) and when they do hang out, they don’t seem to really talk much, which doesn’t exactly help...

He [Gale] tosses the gloves on my lap. “Here. I don’t want your fiancé’s old gloves.” “He’s not my fiancé. That’s just part of the act. And these aren’t his gloves. They were Cinna’s,” I say. “Give them back, then, he says. - Gale can be so petty sometimes 🙄

While I talk, [...] [Gale] occupies himself with turning the food in the leather bag into a meal for us. Toasting bread and cheese, coring apples, placing chestnuts in the fire to roast. I watch his hands, his beautiful, capable fingers. Scarred, as mine were before the Captiol erased all marks from my skin, but strong and deft. [...] Hands I trust. - Oh boy, this moment really shows how these two are at cross purposes right now - Gale’s prepping the food as you would for a toasting (romantic connotation), while Katniss is oberserving his hands, thinking how their hands used to match (not anymore!) and basically wishing herself back into the time before the Games, when things were ‘simpler’/more clearly defined (and also platonic!); there is nothing romantic from her P.O.V. - it’s all about the friendship and trust

[Gale] steps in and I feel myself lifted off the ground. The room spins, and I have to lock my arms around Gale’s neck to brace myself. He’s laughing, happy. “Hey!” I protest, but I’m laughing, too. Gale sets me down but doesn’t release his hold on me. “Okay, let’s run away.” [...] “You’re sure?” I say. [...] “I’m sure. I’m completely, entirely, one hundred percent sure.” - Yeah, and I’m sure you’re not going to change your opinion in the next five minutes, Gale... In his defense, Gale didn’t know all the details, so in that regard it’s totally valid that he might decide to change his mind after having more input... It’s just that Katniss specifically asks him whether he’s sure and his reply is so full of conviction (100% sure!), only for him to do a complete 180 just a couple of minutes later; Gale’s very hot and cold, which makes for such a harsh contrast when compared to Peeta’s more measured reaction later in the chapter

He tilts his forehead down to rest against mine and pulls me closer. [...] I don’t try to move away. Why should I, anyway? His voice drops to a whisper. “I love you.” That’s why. - Oh man, Katniss just can’t catch a break 😞 Really not wise of Gale to drop the L-bomb here (after, what? a kiss they never talked about and little else... their communication is truly abysmal and it’s really damaging to their relationship, hurting the both of them)

“Gale, I can’t think about anyone that way now. All I can think about, every day, is how afraid I am. And there doesn’t seem to be room for anything else. If we could get somewhere safe, maybe I could be different. I don’t know.” I can see him swallowing his disappointment. “So, we’ll go. We’ll find out.” - I mean, honestly, I totally understand where Katniss is coming from - she doesn’t need a romantic interest, she needs a partner, which is why she’s been so eager to talk to her hunting partner, someone she’s used to rely on for survival and now he’s also confounding their relationship by introducing that romance-angle (as if it wasn’t bad enough that her relationship with Peeta got kind of messed up when that same angle was forced upon them prematurely)... Also, telling how Katniss thinks she’d have to be different to maybe even consider a romantic relationship with Gale - Katniss as she is right now just can’t see herself wanting to be with Gale romantically; it would require a change... I’ve got to give Gale credit for still going along with it, and trying to push past his disappointment, though

“My [Gale’s] mother is going to take some convincing.” [...] “Mine, too. I’ll just have to make her see reason. Take her for a long walk. Make sure she understands we won’t survive the alternative.” “She’ll understand. I watched a lot of the Games with her and Prim. She won’t say no to you,” says Gale. - That’s interesting, I wonder what exactly Gale means by that? That Mrs. Everdeen won’t say no to Katniss because she feels guilty that Katniss had to go through the Games or because watching her daughter compete in the Games really made her realize how messed up Panem is? Or that she’s more inclined to trust Katniss’s judgement after everything that has happened?

“Haymitch will be the real challenge.” “Haymitch?” Gale abandons the chestnuts. “You’re asking him to come with us?” “I have to, Gale. I can’t leave him and Peeta because they’d-” His scowl cuts me off. “What?” “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how large our party was,” he snaps at me. - Gale doesn’t seem to have realized how close and important Peeta and Haymitch have become to Katniss... maybe because they never properly talked about this aspect of Katniss’s life (I swear, their shoddy communication must account for at least half of the damage their relationship has taken in these past few months alone)

“What if he [Peeta] decides to stay?” he [Gale] asks. I try to sound indifferent, but my voice cracks. “Then he stays.” “You’d leave him behind?” Gale asks. “To save Prim and my mother, yes,” I answer. “I mean, no! I’ll get him to come.” “And me, would you leave me?” Gale’s expression is rock hard now. - Boy, oh boy! I think Gale knows (like Peeta) that Katniss could never leave behind the people she cares about; then, he’s kind of gauging whether Peeta has already received the Katniss Everdeen Stamp of ‘Caring’ - and, as it turns out, he has! And then Gale ends up making it into a bit of competition by asking her whether she would leave him behind (or, alternately, her turning him down has him confused about the depth of their relationship, I dunno); not fun

“There’s an uprising in Eight?” he [Gale] says in a hushed voice. I try to backpedal. To defuse him, as I tried to defuse the districts. - Katniss is going to be about as successful as she’d been at defusing the districts, too - But here we have another example of Katniss trying to rein in Gale’s temper because she’s afraid he’s going to get himself in trouble (like when she decided not to tell him about Snow’s visit to her house because she was worried what he’d do with that information)... It’s really not great that she feels the need to censor herself so he won’t do something dangerous... Katniss knows first-hand how badly impulsive actions and decisions can be received in the Capitol - and she never even meant for a rebellion to happen!

“And it’s my fault, Gale. Because of what I did in the arena. If I had just killed myself with those berries, none of this would’ve happened. Peeta could have come home and lived, and everyone else would have been safe. too.” “Safe to do what?” he says in a gentler tone. “Starve? Work like slaves? Send their kids to the reaping? You haven’t hurt people - you’ve given them an opportunity. They just have to be brave enough to take it. - Katniss is taking all the responsibility upon herself again... Gale is right to point out that she was merely a catalyst, not the cause for the rebellion - the cause are the awful living conditions of the people in the districts

“Stop it! You don’t know what you’re saying. The Peacekeepers outside of Twelve, they’re not like Darius, or even Cray! The lives of district people - they mean less than nothing to them!” I say. “That’s why we have to join the fight!” he answers harshly. “No! we have to leave here before they kill us and a lot of other people, too!” [...] “You leave, then, I’d never go in a million years.” [...] “What about your family?” “What about the other families, Katniss? The ones who can’t run away?” - This discourse is so painful because they are both right - Katniss has seen more of the districts and how things are handled beyond the (relatively tame) confines of D12 and it’s fair that she wants to know that the people she cares about are safe from harm; Gale, of course, has a point commenting that not everyone has that opportunity and the only way to have a long-lasting, wide-spread improvement of their conditions is through rebelling against their oppressor - but that will inevitably come along with sacrifices and collateral damage and it’s easy to say that it will be worth it in the long run, but when those who are hurt/dead could end up being your loved ones, it’s definitely easier said than done

He throws Cinna’s gloves at my feet. “I changed my mind. I don’t want anything they made in the Capitol.” And he’s gone. I look down at the gloves. Anything they made in the Capitol? Was that directed at me? Does he think I am now just another product of the Capitol and therefore something untouchable? The unfairness of it all fills me with rage. But it’s mixed up with fear over what kind of crazy thing he might do next. - Gale getting rid of Cinna’s gloves just because they are from the Capitol is a prime example of this “us vs. them” mindset that he will be (worringly) fast to adopt - of course, perceiving the opposite side as “other” will make it easier to fight against them; however, it’s all too easy to lose sight of your opponent’s humanity when you think like that (think of how Gale has a hard time understanding Katniss’s distress upon seeing her prep team being treated so terribly/inhumanely in D13); Katniss feeling upset that Gale might perceive her as a product of the Capitol instead of its victim is understandable (and isn’t that exactly what the inhabitants of D13 are going to think of Peeta in MJ?) - and yet, she is still worried Gale could get himself into trouble with his impulsivity; she’s a good bean

”Going to town?” I ask. “Yes. I’m supposed to eat dinner with my family,” he [Peeta] says. - I’m tripping over the word ‘supposed’ here - it doesn’t sound like Peeta’s looking forward to hanging out with his fam, although it can’t be that often, since they’ve been away on Victory Tour and he is living alone (maybe the end of the chapter will give us another hint why that is 😒😒)... I can’t help but wonder whether these family dinners are mainly for public perception (in that case... it really is no wonder Peeta is so good at playing the cameras - poor guy had to fool the outside world his entire life) or because they are the only chance for Peeta to hang out with any of the members of his family he might actually want to spend some time with

“Peeta, if I asked you to run away from the district with me, would you?” Peeta takes my arm, bringing me to a stop. He doesn’t need to check my face to see if I’m serious. “Depends on why you’re asking.” President Snow wasn’t convinced by me. There’s an uprising in District Eight. We have to get out,” I say. “By ‘we’ do you mean just you and me? No. Who else would be going?” he asks. - Peeta doesn’t just blindly agree to Katniss’s proposal; he needs to know what’s going on first (he has been burnt before - no more secrets!) - and it’s a testament to how well he knows her that as soon as he’s asking whether she meant just the two of them, he corrects himself because knows that Katniss would never leave the ones she cares about behind

“What about Gale?” he says. “I don’t know. He might have other plans,” I say. Peeta shakes his head and gives me rueful smile. “I bet he does. Sure, Katniss, I’ll go.” I feel a slight twinge of hope. “You will?” “Yeah. But I don’t think for a minute you will,” he says. [...] “Then you don’t know me. Be ready. It could be any time.” - Telling how Peeta immediately agrees to the plan once he gathers that Gale won’t come - he knows that Katniss cares about Gale and could never leave him behind, ergo she’d never actually leave under these circumstances - he knows her so well. Also, Katniss’s reaction is like that of a petulant child, it’s kind of funny 😄

“Katniss, hold up.” [...] “I really will go, if you want me to. I just think we better talk it through with Haymitch. Make sure we won’t be making things worse for everyone.” - Ultimately, Peeta would follow Katniss to the ends of the earth - doesn’t mean that he can’t throw in a sensible suggestion in there as well 😉 (Also, in the next chapter we will see how Katniss, Gale, and Peeta might be a little too inexperienced/naive to be able to form accurate expectations of what is to come - Haymitch and his generation have a little more experience in that regard)

He raises his head. “What’s that?” [...] I haven’t noticed the strange noise coming from the square. A whistling, the sound of an impact, the intake of breath from a crowd. “Come on,” Peeta says, his face suddenly hard. I don’t know why. I can’t place the sound, even guess at the situation. But it means something bad to him. - Why does my sweet boy know what a whipping sounds like, Suzanne, huh?! Care to explain that? 😭

Peeta steps up on a crate against the wall of the sweetshop and offers me a hand while he scans the square. I’m halfway up when he suddenly blocks my way. “Get down. Get out of here!” He’s whispering, but his voice is harsh with insistence. - Peeta was offering his hand to help Katniss up the crate because they are a team (and he’s a gentleman)! It’s only when he recognizes who is receiving those lashes and realizes that Katniss will lose her shit once she knows, which could make the current situation even worse, that he urges her to leave, and he is not the only one to think that: - Voices hiss. “Get out of here, girl.” “Only make it worse.” What do you want to do? Get him killed?”

Chapter 8

It’s too late to stop the arm from descending, and I instinctively know I won’t have the power to block it. Instead I throw myself directly between the whip and Gale. I’ve flung out my arms to protext as much of his broken body as possible, so there’s nothing to deflect the lash. I take the full force of it across the left side of my face. - Katniss is so selfless; she knows that it’s either Gale getting hit again or a lash to her own face and she chooses the latter

“Hold it!” a voice barks. Haymitch appears and trips over a Peacekeeper lying on the ground. It’s Darius. [...] He’s knocked out but still breathing. What happened? Did he try to come to Gale’s aid before I got here? - Haymitch sure appeared quickly - I can easily imagine Peeta taking off immediately to get him (or send someone to bring him to the square) once he knew Katniss couldn’t be stopped; but if Haymitch had been at his house in Victor’s Village, there is no way he’d have made that quickly to the square... maybe he was already at the Hob and had gotten wind of the whole situation? Also, poor Darius! Wearing a uniform/being in some sort of position of power is no guarantee you won’t get punished as soon as you show the tiniest glimpse of compassion - in a place like Panem, nobody is safe from the caprice of the people in charge

I see a flicker of recognition in the eyes of the man with the whip. [...] it wouldn’t be easy to identify me as the victor of the last Hunger Games. Especially with half my face swelling up. But Haymitch has been showing up on television for years, and he’d be difficult to forget. - Getting Haymitch truly was the smartest move to make (which is why I’m pretty sure it was a move on Peeta’s part - he’d know how to use reminders of ‘appearances’ to ensure a punishment wouldn’t go ‘too far’, y’know 😢). But also - Thread must have lived under a flipping rock, to not being able to recognizes Katniss (her face must have been plastered all over the place during the Victory Tour, which just had concluded recently) - or he was just too in the heat of the moment, with someone opposing him, bleugh 😒

“He [Gale] was poaching. What business is it of hers, anyway?” says the man. “He’s her cousin.” Peeta’s got my other arm now, but gently. “And she’s my fiancée. So if you want to get to him, expect to go through both of us.” - I love how Peeta’s just laying it down as it is; his phrasing just sounds so factual, rather than provocative (although it is, of course); he really has a way with words - Maybe we’re it. The only three people in the district who could make a stand like this. Although it’s sure to be temporary. There will be repercussions. - Haymitch, Peeta, and Katniss working together as a team again! Also, a good example of the effect people with public influence can have

One [Peacekeeper], a woman named Purnia who eats regularly at Greasy Sae’s, steps forward stiffly. “I believe, for a first offense, the required number of lashes has been dispensed, sir. Unless your sentence is death, which we would carry out by firing squad.” “Is that the standard protocol here?” asks the Head Peacekeeper. “Yes, sir,” Purnia says, and several others nod in agreement. I’m sure none of them actually know because, in the Hob, the standard protocol for someone showing up with a wild turkey is for everybody to bid on the drumsticks. - It’s kinda nice to see the local Peacekeepers supporting Purnia’s claim to get this display to stop - this is the only way out of this situation where Thread’s authority is not openly challenged (and we know Thread doesn’t take well to having his authority challenged - see Darius)

There’s no stretcher, but the old woman at the clothing stall sells us the board that serves as her countertop. “Just don’t tell where you got it,” she says, packing up the rest of her goods quickly. Most of the square has emptied, fear getting the better of compassion. But after what happened, I can’t blame anyone. - It’s sad how that air of intimidation makes people want to mask their acts of compassion (and also says a lot about the precariousness of the existing living situations if that old lady is still selling that board - I’d never even consider exchanging money for that, but that’s probably my privileged situation showing here; Katniss brings up the theme of fear vs compassion - very fitting, since it seems to be her driving force (although, generally, her compassion wins out over her fear) and despite her assertion that fear appears to be getting the better of compassion we see a good amount of people reaching out to help, such as the following example:

Leevy, a girl who lives a few houses down from mine in the Seam, takes my arm. My mother kept her little brother alive last year when he caught the measles. “Need help getting back?” Her gray eyes are scared but determined. - The subtle suggestion here that Leevy might be further motivated to help out because Katniss’s mom helped her little brother is also an excellent example of how kindness breeds kindness

“Get some snow on that,” Haymitch orders over his shoulder. I scoop up a handful of snow and press it against my cheek, numbing a bit of the pain. - This moment reminded me of Peeta immediately reaching for some ice from that fruit tureen after Haymitch hit him on their way to the Games in THG (Ch. 4) - their different immediate reactions to getting hit in the face could simply be due to the fact that Katniss is a little too preoccupied worrying about Gale to think about her injury, of course, but I feel like you could also interpret them as examples for how much experience Katniss and Peeta have with being hit in the face, respectively...

Gale must have gone to Cray’s house, as he’s done a hundred times, knowing Cray pays well for a wild turkey. Instead he found the new Head Peacekeeper, a man they heard someone call Romulus Thread. No one knows what happened to Cray. He was buying white liquor in the Hob just this morning [...] but now he’s nowhere to be found. - As I’ve already mentioned regarding Darius, inhabiting some position of power does not guarantee you any safety in Panem (there is always someone more powerful who will treat their inferiors like garbage, if they feel like it)

By the time I showed up, he [Gale]’d been lashed at least forty times. He passed out around thirty. - Jesus 😨 poor Gale!

“What about Darius?” Peeta asks.“ After about twenty lashes, he stepped in, saying that was enough. Only he didn’t do it smart and official, like Purnia did. He grabbed Thread’s arm and Thread hit him in the head with the butt of the whip. Nothing good waiting for him,” says Bristel. - It’s so messed up how it is not enough to have someone who’d stand up and do something about a horrible situation - they have to do it the right way, or else they’re toast; there really shouldn’t have to be a smart way of doing the right thing

Snow begins, thick and wet, making visibility even more difficult. - (President) Snow is coming down hard on them, making it hard to see what’s up ahead

Ever so gently, she [Mrs. Everdeen] begins to clean the mutilated flesh on Gale’s back. I feel sick to the stomach, useless, the remaining snow dripping from my glove into a puddle on the floor. Peeta puts me in a chair and holds a cloth filled with fresh snow to my cheek. - Although she’s quite squeamish, Katniss stays as Gale gets treated (the force that holds the loved ones of the hurt/dying, just like when Peeta was being treated after their Games); meanwhile, Peeta is taking care of Katniss - there is so much care + love to be found in this moment

My mother has to save the strongest [painkillers] for the worst pain, but what is the worst pain? To me, it’s always the pain that is present. If I were in charge, those painkillers would be gone in a day because I have so little ability to watch suffering. - Honestly, same; I can’t stomach seeing other people suffer without feeling overwhelmed and feeling like crying... I don’t know how professionals do it

“Just give him the medicine!” I scream at her. [...] “Take her out,” says my mother. Haymitch and Peeta literally carry me from the room while I shout obscenities at her. They pin me down on a bed in one of the extra bedrooms until I stop fighting. - Oof. Poor Katniss! But yeah, it was the best call to remove her from the situation, Mrs. E. had to focus on what she was doing... Also, Haymitch and Peeta are the ones to get Katniss out of there and stay with her - these three take care of each other!

After a while, my mother comes in and treats my face. Then she holds my hand, stroking my arm, while Haymitch fills her in on what happened with Gale. “So it’s starting again?” she says. “Like before?” - Katniss’s mom has become a much more active and soothing presence in this book, I like it... Also, what does “again” mean? Does this imply there has been an attempted uprising in D12 that needed to be squashed before?

Cray would have been disliked, anyway, because of the uniform he wore, but it was his habit of luring starving young women into his bed for money that made him an object of loathing in the district. In really bad times, the hungriest would gather at his door at nightfall, vying for the chance to earn a few coins to feed their families by selling their bodies. Had I been older when my father died, I might have been among them. - Horrifying and absolutely disgusting 🤢 Those poor women! How desperate they must have been!

... when the doorbell rings, I shoot straight out of bed. [...] “They [the peacekeepers] can’t have him,” I say. “Might be you they’re after,” Haymitch reminds me. “Or you,” I say. “Not my house,” Haymitch points out. “But I’ll get the door.” “No, I’ll get it,” says my mother quietly. - Again, Mrs. Everdeen is taking the initiative! She was so watered down in the movies

[Madge] holds out a small, damp cardboard box to me. “Use these for your friend,” she says. I take off the lid of the box, revealing half a dozen vials of clear liquid. [...] “What is that stuff?” asks Peeta. “It’s from the Capitol. It’s called morphling,” my mother answers. “I didn’t even know Madge knew Gale,” says Peeta. “We used to sell her strawberries,” I say almost angrily. What am I angry about, though? Not that she has brought the medicine, surely. “She must have quite a taste for them,” says Haymitch. That’s what nettles me. It’s the implication that there’s something going on between Gale and Madge. And I don’t like it. “She’s my friend” is all I say. - I mean, Katniss could be mad because A) Gale had literally just told her he loved her a few hours ago and if there was something (reciprocated) going on between Gale and Madge, that would have been pretty shitty for both girls involved and also B) she is friends with both of them and it would be hurtful to learn that two of your closest friends had been seeing each other without telling you anything about it... also, she’s super upset over Gale getting so seriously hurt just after they’d had an argument, her feelings are all over the place

... I’m selfish. I’m a coward. I’m the kind of girl, who, when she might actually be of use, would run to stay alive and leave those who couldn’t follow to suffer and die. This is the girl Gale met in the woods today. No wonder I won the Games. No decent person ever does. You saved Peeta, I think weakly. But now I question even that. I knew good and well that my life back in District 12 would be unlivable if I let that boy die. - Yes, Katniss, you knew that your life back in D12 would have been unlivable if he died - but not because you feared that people would shun you; it was because you “couldn’t lose the boy with the bread” and because “if he dies, I’ll never go home, not really”... This is an excellent example of how distorted your memories can get when you are in a bad headspace at present

The berries. I realize the answer to who I am lies in that handful poisonous fruit. If I held them out to save Peeta because I knew I would be shunned if I came back without him, then I am despicable. If I held them out because I loved him, I am still self-centered, although forgivable. But if I held them out to defy the Capitol, I am someone of worth. - Katniss, you don’t have to be planning to overthrow a corrupt and cruel government to be someone of worth! You’re someone of worth just by being yourself! - The trouble is, I don’t know exactly what was going on inside me at that moment. - Frankly, very rarely are our motivations clearly defined by a single factor - or my professor would not have been able to teach an entire semester-long course on motivation psychology😉)

Chapter 9

Gale’s dead to the world, but his fingers are locked around mine. I smell fresh bread and turn my stiff neck to find Peeta looking down at me with such a sad expression. I get the sense that he’s been watching us awhile. “Go on up to bed, Katniss. I’ll look after him now,” he says. - Peeta! Must have been hard for him to see Katniss like this (and the underlying strength of Katniss and Gale’s relationship, when his relationship with Katniss is still not all that solidified), and yet he’s being such a good bean about it 😭

I give a strangled cry and wake with a start, sweating and shivering at once. Cradling my damaged cheek in my hand, I remind myself that it was not Clove but Thread who gave me this wound. I wish that Peeta were here to hold me, until I remember I’m not supposed to wish that anymore. I have chosen Gale and the rebellion, and a future with Peeta is the Capitol’s design, not mine. - Katniss, gurl... Maybe your instinctive desire to receive comfort from Peeta is trying to tell you something??!? Also, Katniss is forcing this strange dichotomous association of Gale = rebellion and Peeta = Capitol, when in just a bit, she’s clearly connecting Peeta to the rebellion as well (aside from the fact that Peeta was basically the first person to suggest to her that maybe a rebellion was necessary... just saying)

Fighting the Capitol assures their swift retaliation. I must accept that at any moment I can be arrested. [...] There might be torture. Mutliation. A bullet through the skull in the town square [...] I imagine these things and I’m terrified, but let’s face it: They’ve been lurking in the back of my brain, anyway. [...] I’m already a target. - Oh geez! Despite admitting that she’s terrified of what the Capitol is capable fo doing to her, Katniss is still pretty composed naming the possible horrors in store for her, which is just a heartbreaking reminder of how many terrible things she has already had to endure.🙁

Now comes the harder part. I have to face the fact that my family and friends might share this fate. Prim. I need only to think of Prim and all my resolve disintegrates. It’s my job to protect her. [...] I can’t let the Capitol hurt Prim. - 😭😭😭 Katniss has reached a point where she can put her own need for survival/physical intactness aside, but the thought of something awful happening to Prim stops her short (it’s so strange to think that, in a twisted way, it wasn’t the Capitol who’d ended up inflicting the final harm upon Prim...)

And then it hit’s me. They already have. They have killed her father in those wretched mines. They have sat by as she almost starved to death. [...] She has been hurt far worse than I had at the age of twelve. And even that pales in comparison with Rue’s life. [...] Prim... Rue... aren’t they the very reason I have to try to fight? Because what has been done to them is so wrong, so beyond justification, so evil that there is no choice? Because no one has the right to treat them as they have been treated? Yes. This is the thing to remember when fear threatens to swallow me up. What I am about to do, whatever any of us are forced to endure, it is for them. - All these things are very true and it’s also very fitting that the main motivation for Katniss would be to ensure a better future for the children of Panem (and to avenge the evils done to the people close to her heart... while Katniss of course can see the abstract bigger picture/reason for the rebellion, she always operates best when it comes to specific people/circumstances she has a deep, personal connection with)... But also: all these things apply to you, too, Katniss! Despite your tendency to feel responsible for everything and everyone, you’re still a child that had to grow up way too fast and had to endure way too much!

We need someone to direct us and reassure us this is possible. And I don’t think I’m that person. I may have been a catalyst for rebellion, but a leader should be someone with conviction, and I’m barely a convert myself. Someone with unflinching courage, and I’m still working hard at finding mine. Someone with clear and persuasive words, and I’m so easily tongue-tied. Words. I think of words and I think of Peeta. - Katniss’s idea of a great leader for the rebellion is Peeta - interesting, isn’t it (she could have considered Gale, but no)? She makes a good point, though: it helps when a leader has plenty of charisma, and our boy has that in spades; he’s got a good set of morals, is not above joining in on the action/risking his own neck when the need arises and is very genuine and purposeful with his words and actions, which is inspiring... I think Katniss is severely underselling how courageous she is, though

He could move a crowd to action, I bet, if he chose to. Would find the things to say. But I’m sure the idea has never crossed his mind. - Why would you assume that, Katniss? Peeta’s literally the one to suggest to you that trying to placate the district might not be the right thing to do... Peeta’s not someone who’d stir up trouble just for the sake of stirring up trouble, sure; he’s much more deliberate about doing things the ‘right’ way, but he’s not generally opposed to challenging authorities (he’s literally the one to openly gift some of your winnings to another district!)

She knows what she’s doing, my mother. I feel a pang of remorse about yesterday, the awful things I yelled at her as Peeta and Haymitch dragged me from the kitchen. “I’m sorry. About screaming at you yesterday.” - It’s so sweet how Katniss feels sorry for yelling at her mom and apologizes to her; their relationship really has improved so much in this book - “I’ve heard worse,” she says. “You’ve seen how people are, when someone they love is in pain.” Someone they love. [...] Of course, I love Gale. But what kind of love does she mean? What do I mean when I say I love Gale? I don’t know. I did kiss him last night, in a moment when my emotions were running so high. But i’m sure he doesn’t remember it. Does he? I hope not. - Katniss is struggling to figure out in what way she loves Gale... She definitely doesn’t want him to remember their kiss because she knows it wouldn’t be fair to give him the hope that she might be able to return his romantic feelings when she is still in the dark about her own

... and I can’t really think about kissing when I’ve got a rebellion to incite. I give my head a little shake to clear it. “Where’s Peeta?” I say. - Lol, goes on to immediately mention the guy she’s been kissing these past few weeks (see, with Peeta you could actually have both: kissing and rebellion, Katniss - he’s the perfect man, isn’t he? 😉😋)

“He went home when he heard you stirring. Didn’t want to leave his house unattended during the storm,” says my mother. - Yeah, I don’t think Peeta left because of his house; I’m pretty sure he needed some time to himself after seeing Katniss and Gale this morning - he is the type of person who needs to be alone to work through his feelings when he’s feeling upset - “Did he get back all right?” [...] “Why don’t you give him a call and check?” she says. I go into the study, a room I’ve pretty much avoided since my meeting with President Snow, and dial Peeta’s number. After a few rings he answers. “Hey. I just wanted to make sure you got home,” I say. “Katniss. I live three houses away from you,” he says. “I know, but with the weather and all,” I say. “Well, I’m fine. Thank you for checking.” There’s a long pause. “How’s Gale?” - Aww, Katniss is worried about Peeta and gives him a call, although she hates being in the study 😊 Also, her calling him must have been at least of some reassurance to Peeta that she genuinely cares about him, in some way (though, he’s still clearly busy processing her relationship with Gale, since he’s asking about him as if he hadn’t seen that dude just a couple of minutes prior)

“Have you seen Haymitch today?” “I checked in on him. Dead drunk. But I built up his fire and left him some bread,” he says. “I wanted to talk to - to both of you.” I don’t dare add more, here on my phone, which is surely tapped. - Despite everything, Peeta still made sure to look after Haymitch! And I know, there is also the issue of their houses themselves potentially being bugged, but I couldn’t help imagining how they could easily avoid the whole phone-tapping thing simply by using a tin can telephone (they do live pretty close to each other, after all) 😂

“You don’t even have a phone,” I say. “Effie had that fixed,” he [Haymitch] says. “Do you know she asked me if I’d like to give you away? I told her the sooner the better.” “Haymitch.” I can hear the pleading creeping into my voice. “Katniss.” He mimics my tone. “It won’t work.” - Okay, but Haymitch mimicking Katniss’s tone reminds me so much of when Peeta mimicked her tone towards the end of their Games, when she was trying to persuade him to climb into a tree as a lookout while he was insistent she’d show him some plants to gather; these three, I swear! 😂 On a sad note, Haymitch is talking from experience here when he’s advising Katniss not to challenge the Capitol 🥺😢

Some streets away from the square, I see a blaze flare up. None of us has to say it. That can only be the Hob going up in smoke. I think of Greasy Sae, Ripper, all my friends who make their livings there. - Katniss considers the people from the Hob her friends - honestly, even if the Hawthornes, Everdeens, Peeta and Haymitch all had agreed to leave D12, I don’t think Katniss would have been able to go through with it - she cares too much about the people in D12 to have been able to leave them to their fate

“Well, I better go see how much rubbing alcohol the apothecary can spare.” He [Haymitch] trudges off across the square and I look at Peeta. “What’s he want that for?” Then I realize the answer. “We can’t let him drink it. He’ll kill himself, or at the very least go blind. I’ve got some white liquor put away at home.” “Me, too. Maybe that will hold him until Ripper finds a way to be back in business,” says Peeta. - Another instance of Katniss and Peeta being on the same wavelength, having taken precautions to help out Haymitch so he doesn’t have to go cold turkey again

We find Hazelle in her house, nursing a very sick Posy. I recognize the measles spots. “I couldn’t leave her,” she says. “I knew Gale’d be in the best possible hands.” - The second mention of someone having contracted the measles in D12 - Why the heck does the Capitol withhold measles vaccination from the people in the districts?! They’re inflicting unnecessary damage onto the very people they want to exploit... But I guess cruelty isn’t always about playing it smart and logical...

When we’re outside, I turn to Peeta. “You go on back. I want to walk by the Hob.” “I’ll go with you,” he says. “No. I’ve dragged you into enough trouble,” I tell him. “And avoiding a stroll by the Hob... that’s going to fix things for me?” He smiles and takes my hand. - They are a team, they stick together (and they are constantly holding hands, always physically linked to each other)😩💕 Also, Peeta pointing out the irrationality of Katniss’s train of thought to calm her down and stay with her reminds me of how he’s going to use logical reasoning to calm her down after the jabberjays in the Quarter Quell arena

We go back to the square. I buy some cakes from Peeta’s father while they exchange small talk about the weather. No one mentions the ugly tools of torture just yards from the front door. The last thing I notice as we leave the square is that I do not recognize even one of the Peacekeepers’ faces. - How weird is it that Peeta and his dad just talk about the weather?! Is this supposed to illustrate how in the Mellark family they just ignored the ugliness going on in their lives *cough cough* the abuse *cough cough* and just pretended that everything was fine, on a very superficial level? Also, it makes perfect sense that the Peacekeepers have been exchanged; the more time we spend with people, the more likely we are to like them - that won’t do if you want to have a ruthless authoritarian police force in the districts

As the days pass, things go from bad to worse. The mines stay shut for two weeks, and by that time half of District 12 is starving. The number of kids signing up for tesserae soars, but they often don’t receive their grain. Food shortages begin, and even those with money come away from stores empty-handed. [...] The eagerly awaited food promised for Parcel Day arrives spoiled and defiled by rodents. - This is just so awful and despicable 😞 Life in the districts was already horrible but now the government does not even honor the extortionary rules they themselves have set up! I can’t help but wonder if the lack of food could be traced back to rebellions in the food supplying districts and, to keep this from the inhabitants of the Capitol, the reduced amount of good food was (obviously) kept for the Capitolites, so that the bad food had to be sent to the districts, anyway... It just seems like such a breach of ‘honor’/etiquette on the Capitol’s part, I dunno... Or maybe Snow was just desperate to use any means necessary to stamp out any potential rebellions in the districts that he still had some control over...

Gale goes home with no more talk of rebellion between us. But I can’t help thinking that everything he sees will only strengthen his resolve to fight back. [...] Rory has signed up for tesserae, something Gale can’t even speak about - Poor, Gale! Poor Hawthornes :(

My fingers have all but decided to release the arrow when I see the object in the glove. It’s a small white circle of flat bread. More of a cracker, really. Gray and soggy around the edges. But an image is clearly stamped in the center of it. It’s my mockingjay. - It is so very telling that the true symbol of the rebellion combines something symbolic of Katniss (which also contains a nod to Rue) and something symbolic of Peeta (the bread/cracker!) The people in the districts have rightfully recognized the both of them as symbol of the rebellion; they have a truer vision of the matter than the more artifically/forcefully constructed symbol of rebellion that D13 /Coin will push - we will also see that when the people in D13 will view Peeta as a traitor, while the rebels Katniss will visit in D8 instead ask her about Peeta and assure her that they know he was speaking under duress

#thgagain #thg #katniss everdeen #hunger games #thg meta #peeta mellark #haymitch abernathy #gale hawthorne #my sketches and drawings #thg fanart #catching fire

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bamf-jaskier · 3 years

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Who the Fuck is Eskel?

If you have ever gone on The Witcher tag on Tumblr, I’m sure you’ve seen dozens of blogs dedicated to this guy named Eskel and for people who have just seen the show you might be wondering - who the fuck is this guy?

Hi, I’m Aaliyah, and this is Part 5 of my WTF Series - a crash course in subjects from The Witcher Books.

Post under the cut

Let’s jump in by talking about what books Eskel is in. He’s only mentioned in one line in The Last Wish, The Tower of Swallows and The Time of Contempt. He has a flashback scene in Lady of the Lake and the only book where he plays a heavy role in is Blood of Elves.

For all you Eskel Stans out there, this is good news, because it looks like S2 of the show is going to be taking some cues from Blood of Elves and we do know Eskel is going to be appearing so these scenes might be showing up in some form or another in the show.

We first meet Eskel in Blood of Elves when Geralt is first bringing Ciri to the keep:

“Who comes?” Ciri heard a menacing, metallic voice which sounded like a dog’s bark. “Geralt?”

“Yes, Eskel. It’s me.”

“Come in.”

The witcher dismounted, took Ciri from the saddle, stood her on the ground and pressed a bundle into her little hands which she grabbed tightly, only regretting that it was too small for her to hide behind completely.

“Wait here with Eskel,” he said. “I’ll take Roach to the stables.”

“Come into the light, laddie,” growled the man called Eskel. “Don’t lurk in the dark.”

Ciri looked up into his face and barely restrained her frightened scream. He wasn’t human. Although he stood on two legs, although he smelled of sweat and smoke, although he wore ordinary human clothes, he was not human. No human can have a face like that, she thought.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” repeated Eskel.

She didn’t move. In the darkness she heard the clatter of Roach’s horseshoes grow fainter. Something soft and squeaking ran over her foot. She jumped. “Don’t loiter in the dark, or the rats will eat your boots.”

Still clinging to her bundle Ciri moved briskly towards the light. The rats bolted out from beneath her feet with a squeak. Eskel leaned over, took the package from her and pulled back her hood.

“A plague on it,” he muttered. “A girl. That’s all we need.”

She glanced at him, frightened. Eskel was smiling. She saw that he was human after all, that he had an entirely human face, deformed by a long, ugly, semi-circular scar running from the corner of his mouth across the length of his cheek up to the ear.

“Since you’re here, welcome to Kaer Morhen,” he said. “What do they call you?”

“Ciri,” Geralt replied for her, silently emerging from the darkness. Eskel turned around. Suddenly, quickly, wordlessly, the witchers fell into each other’s arms and wound their shoulders around each other tight and hard. For one brief moment.

“Wolf, you’re alive.”

“I am.”

“All right.” Eskel took a torch from its bracket. “Come on. I’m closing the inner gates to stop the heat escaping.”

Couple things here. First, for all the game fans out there, Eskel’s scar in the books is VERY different. It’s not the lightening-like claw marks that go over his eye but instead it goes from the corner of his mouth to his ear. This is interesting because it really parallels in my mind Ciri’s scar she gets later on that extends from under her eye to her ear.

Also, the little reunion between Geralt and Eskel, so sweet. The line about Eskel in Last Wish establishes that they were close friends so here is the snippet just to give more backstory to the two of them:

“Once, years ago, when a little snot-faced brat following his studies in Kaer Morhen, the Witchers’ Settlement, he and a friend, Eskel, had captured a huge forest bumblebee and tied it to a jug with a thread. They were in fits of laughter watching the antics of the tied bumblebee, until Vesemir, their tutor, caught them at it and tanned their hides with a leather strap.”

Childhood friends and brothers is just so damn great. Actually, speaking of brothers, it is stated in Blood of Elves that Geralt and Eskel actually look very similar and are often mistaken for brothers such as in this scene from Triss’s POV.

Eskel stood next to Geralt, resembling the Wolf like a brother apart from the colour of his hair and the long scar which disfigured his cheek. And the youngest of the Kaer Morhen witchers, Lambert, was there with his usual ugly, mocking expression. Vesemir was not there.

“Welcome and come in,” said Eskel. “It is as cold and blustery as if someone has hung themselves. Ciri, where are you off to? The invitation does not apply to you. The sun is still high, even if it is obscured. You can still train.”

“Hey.” The Enchantress tossed her hair. “Politeness comes cheap in Witchers’ Keep now, I see. Ciri was the first to greet me, and brought me to the castle. She ought to keep me company—”

This really interests me because Ciri is very young child when she meets Eskel and she is very terrified of him and intimidated. Which makes sense, she is very traumatized. But, when Triss meets Eskel she only makes a short note of his scar and focuses more on his resemblance to Geralt and commenting on the lack of politeness. It just goes to show how different characters perceive people differently. A child’s perspective of a warrior is not going to be the same as a Mage’s.

“You didn’t even know.” She nodded in what was now a calm, concerned and gentle reproach. “You’re pathetic guardians. She’s ashamed to tell you because she was taught not to mention such complaints to men. And she’s ashamed of the weakness, the pain and the fact that she is less fit. Has any one of you thought about that? Taken any interest in it? Or tried to guess what might be the matter with her? Maybe her very first bleed happened here, in Kaer Morhen? And she cried to herself at night, unable to find any sympathy, consolation or even understanding from anyone? Has any one of you given it any thought whatsoever?”

“Stop it, Triss,” moaned Geralt quietly. “That’s enough. You’ve achieved what you wanted. And maybe even more.”

“The devil take it,” cursed Coën. “We’ve turned out to be right idiots, there’s no two ways about it, eh, Vesemir, and you—”

“Silence,” growled the old witcher. “Not a word.”

It was Eskel’s behaviour which was most unlikely; he got up, approached the enchantress, bent down low, took her hand and kissed it respectfully. She swiftly withdrew her hand. Not so as to demonstrate her anger and annoyance but to break the pleasant, piercing vibration triggered by the witcher’s touch. Eskel emanated powerfully. More powerfully than Geralt.

“Triss,” he said, rubbing the hideous scar on his cheek with embarrassment, “help us. We ask you. Help us, Triss.”

Now, if you can’t tell, Triss’ favorite is Eskel. This scene is also implies that Eskel is more magically powerful than Geralt which Is very interesting. But Triss is an Eskel stan, in fact a couple lines later Triss thinks to herself:

Vesemir hawked again. But Eskel, dear Eskel, kept his head and once more behaved as was fitting.

“Of course,” he said casually, smiling. “We understand and clearly we will postpone your exercises until your indisposition has passed. We will also cut the theory short and, if you feel unwell, we will put it aside for the time being, too. If you need any medication or—”

Eskel definitely has the older sibling energy where he ends up in charge sometimes and knows how to keep a cool head. He’s also the most aware of societal norms of behavior which is why Triss likes his so much. She really respects people who know how to move in society.

There’s also this scene in Blood of Elves where Eskel is drinking and offers Triss some:

“White Seagull.”

“What?”

“A mild remedy,” Eskel smiled, “for pleasant dreams.”

“Damn it! A witcher hallucinogenic? That’s why your eyes shine like that in the evenings!”

“White Seagull is very gentle. It’s Black Seagull that is hallucinogenic.”

“If there’s magic in this liquid I’m not allowed to take it!”

“Exclusively natural ingredients,” Geralt reassured her but he looked, she noticed, disconcerted. He was clearly afraid she would question them about the elixir’s ingredients. “And diluted with a great deal of water. We would not offer you anything that could harm you.”

I think it’s very funny how secret The Witcher keeps all their potions and elixirs. Whether it’s mushrooms or potions, they gotta keep those secret drugs locked down tight. Also the fact that Eskel is the fantasy equivalent of high every night? Love that for him.

Eskel really is the peace-maker of the group. He’s not a push-over by any means but he is definitely more willing to play along that any of the others. When Triss is talking at night, Eskel is really the only one listening and engaging, even if it’s very half-hearted.

In the evenings, consistently and determinedly, Triss guided the long conversations held in the dark hall, lit only by the bursts of flames in the great hearth, towards politics. The witchers’ reactions were always the same. Geralt, a hand on his forehead, did not say a word.

Vesemir nodded, from time to time throwing in comments which amounted to little more than that “in his day” everything had been better, more logical, more honest and healthier.

Eskel pretended to be polite, and neither smiled nor made eye contact, and even managed, very occasionally, to be interested in some issue or question of little importance. Coën yawned openly and looked at the ceiling, and Lambert did nothing to hide his disdain.

And he is really the only sort-of listener to Triss’ stories and retellings of events:

This time it was Triss who began to yawn and stare at the ceiling. This time she was the one who remained silent – until Eskel turned to her with a question. A question which she had anticipated.

“And what is it really like in the south, on the Yaruga? Is it worth going there? We wouldn’t like to find ourselves in the middle of any trouble.”

“What do you mean by trouble?”

“Well, you know…” he stammered, “you keep telling us about the possibility of a new war… About constant fighting on the borders, about rebellions in the lands invaded by Nilfgaard. You said they’re saying the Nilfgaardians might cross the Yaruga again—”

“So what?” said Lambert. “They’ve been hitting, killing and striking against each other constantly for hundreds of years. It’s nothing to worry about. I’ve already decided – I’m going to the far South, to Sodden, Mahakam and Angren. It’s well known that monsters abound wherever armies have passed. The most money is always made in places like that.”

“True,” Coën acknowledged. “The neighbourhood grows deserted, only women who can’t fend for themselves remain in the villages… scores of children with no home or care, roaming around… Easy prey attracts monsters.”

“And the lord barons and village elders,” added Eskel, “have their heads full of the war and don’t have the time to defend their subjects. They have to hire us. It’s true. But from what Triss has been telling us all these evenings, it seems the conflict with Nilfgaard is more serious than that, not just some local little war. Is that right, Triss?”

Once more, Eskel is the peace-maker of the conversation and he brings it back around to what Triss originally said and also points to her expertise. Basically, Eskel is not really a fan of verbal conflict.

This is actually the last line we see Eskel in a scene outside of the flashback in Lady of the Lake. After this, Triss, Geralt and Ciri head off. It is important to note that near the end of Blood of Elves Ciri says this about Yennefer:

The lady magician knew a surprising amount about a witcher’s sword and “dance.” She knew a great deal about the secrets of Kaer Morhen; there was no doubt she had visited the Keep. She knew Vesemir and Eskel. Although not Lambert and Coën.

Yennefer used to visit Kaer Morhen. Ciri guessed why – when they spoke of the Keep – the eyes of the enchantress grew warm, lost their angry gleam and their cold, indifferent, wise depth. If the words had befitted Yennefer’s person, Ciri would have called her dreamy, lost in memories.

So clearly Yennefer is also friendly with Eskel and knows him. I love the idea that Yennefer regularly visited Kaer Morhen before Ciri came into Geralt’s care and I would literally cry if they did a flashback sequence in S2 of Yennefer visiting Geralt in Kaer Morhen.

The flashback sequence in Lady of the Lake with Eskel goes like this:

The fire in the huge fireplace went out. A gust of wind from the mountains whistled through the crevices of the walls and screamed through the improperly closed shutters of Kaer Morhen, Home of the Witchers.

“Damn it!” Eskel said, standing up and going to the cupboard. “Seagull or vodka?”

“Vodka,” Geralt and Coen said with one voice.

“Sure,” interjected Vesemir, hidden in the shadows, “Yes, of course! Drown your stupidity in vodka. Damn fools!”

“It was an accident…” muttered Lambert. “She had already mastered the comb…”

“Shut your big mouth, you idiot! I don’t want to hear any more! I warned you, if something happened to that little girl…”

“Enough,” Coen interrupted him, softly. “She sleeps peacefully. Deep and healthy. She will wake up a bit sore, but that’s it. About the trance, and what happened, she will not even remember it.”

“As long as you remember,” said Vesemir, panting angrily. “Cabbage heads! Pour for me too, Eskel.”

They were silent for a long time, listening intently to the howling gale.

“We will need to call someone,” Eskel finally said. “We will need to bring a sorcerer here. What is happening to the girl, it is not normal.”

Eskel is one of The Witcher who really pushes to call Triss in order to help with Ciri’s trances. Also, once again this guy is hitting the drinks.

So yeah! That’s Eskel in the books. Based on how in the non-canon wedding short Asaps wrote where he ended up having Triss and Eskel get together, I think his hints of them having a connection in the books is very intentional and if The Witcher wasn’t such a god damn tragedy and Triss wasn’t mooning over Geralt, I’m willing to bet they would have gotten together at some point.

Eskel is the peace-maker of the family and is the best at recognizing the norms of “polite society” (or at least noble society) and while Ciri might have been scared of his appearance, it isn’t enough to phase Triss who is considered rather vain. In fact, she seems to respect Eskel the most out of the Witchers. Just imagine a dark-haired, scarred Geralt and BOOM, you got yourself an Eskel.

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well-its-not-human-anymore · 3 years

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Touch starved/ hurt reader - hcs or scenarios the turtles? Reader super cool regarding friendship, like funny and open etc etc, but if someone tries to do anything that implies a bit more regarding romantic stuff they are kinda like oop- no. Reader is kinda jumpy and just freezes when someone’s they like does any kind of affection ( blushes a lot, try to run away and avoid those situations) people have taken them for granted which has make them a bit cold and defensive in that area- they want to be more affectionate ( which they know deep down it’s what they crave) but it’s kinda they are a scared / angry cat? Please, hope this makes sense, thank you

( also regarding looks and gender I think you can go with they/them so everyone can see a look but if themselfs in the scenario, and if you are going to any kind of skin ship, make the reader extremely defensive over their arms and tummy pls, I do love hugs but if anyone touches my hips I’ll try to get away so fast omg sbbtjfjdkdksn and I will just close off momentarily, I absolutely hate it, I’m more on the heavy side ( talk and chubby ) and if anyone’s touches the “giggly” parts I get extremely upset ( because of how ppl havemade fun of it over the years) and I think the boys would be very “??? What?” To that reaction cuz they didn’t think it was some thing bad to have? ( like a more soft and chunky/chubby body) because they haven’t been exposed long enough to society’s judgment or beauty standards ( I mean they know about! The ones who would have read more about it maybe it’s Leo and Donnie, but what I mean maybe they have never experienced something like this - themselfs irl) Eitherway this ask is already so long omg I’m sorry and thank you, if it’s too much you don’t have to do it, have a good night/ day!)

Okay first of all I love you and I would die for you. You are a perfect human being and there is literally no one else like you. Your body does a damn good job of keeping all of your organs in place and that's what matters. If anyone tells you different you rock their absolute shit.

And don't worry, I understood the request perfectly so no worries on that, I've got a similar body type except I'm really short. But I'm also super defensive over being touched or having those parts of my body perceived, so trust me when I say you're not alone. We be vibing with this together.

Now to the writing!

TMNT Headcanons

Boys reacting to a touch starved/defensive reader

Michaelangelo

Look man, our boy here is body positivity central, he thinks you look amazing and he wants everyone to know it

As far as you two go he's your best friend, your homie, your main man

So of course he's gonna wanna show you off, why wouldn't he?

He doesn't think you'd have a reason to not be okay with it, you've always been playful with him and his brothers

So obviously there's some widespread confusion once Casey gets tossed into the mix

All Mikey had done was reach behind him and snag you by the waist to pull you over

That was all

The words "and this is my best friend, y/n" never got the chance to leave his mouth

He was definitely not expecting you to squeak out in protest and scramble away from him as fast as humanly possible

Your face was burning red and you were clutching your sides, desperately trying not to bare your teeth in defence

Mikey couldn't help but feel heartbroken

Was there something wrong with him?

You sent Casey an unenthusiastic wave before turning on your heel and basically running out

Leaving a very confused orange turtle behind you

When he finally managed to catch up to you later you rushed to explain why you'd reacted the way you did

You couldn't stand his expression when you explained that no- you didn't think he was disgusting and no, he hadn't done anything wrong.

But he did seem baffled at you telling him that it was because you hated being touched there.

"Look Mikey, I've got no problem with the whole contact thing but you gotta give me a warning or something before you go around grabbing me. Okay?"

He was 100% fine with that

Anything to make you comfortable

But you both got to the point of being able to laugh at your reaction to the turtle trying to hold your hand

"Seriously Michaelangelo, I have a reputation to maintain. How am I supposed to do that when you're giving me feelings?"

Donatello

It completely baffled him

By all accounts it didn't make sense

You threw around compliments like you were playing hot potato and for whatever reason you'd always find someway to playfully flirt with him

But the second one of his brothers suggested something other than the innocent friendship the two of you had you would shut down completely

And coincidentally those types of comments were made at the most inconvenient times

Nothing screamed awkward more than you going stone cold and standoffish over a piece of pie

Bubbly and excited one moment, tossing around those positive affirmations to your favorite people

And staring murderously at an inanimate object the next

You were like an unsolvable rubix cube to him

But he was determined to figure you out

"Y/N?"

You didn't appear to be busy, just sitting on the haphazard bunk in your makeshift area with a book in your lap

The others had gone out on patrol and you weren't sure where Splinter was at that particular moment which left you and Donnie holding down the lair until they got back

The perfect time to approach the subject

"Hey y/n? Can I ask you something?"

His voice always got a little louder when you were alone, less afraid of being overheard. You looked up with a smile

"Fire away Dove."

His cheeks flushed in surprise

"uhhhhh... whydoyounotlikeme?"

You set your book down and leaned forward to stare at him

"Elaborate."

And he did, god he did, he did it at the speed of sound of course, but you caught every word

let me tell you, this boys heart broke for you when you told him that you did like him

you really really did

but the thought of being romantically involved with anyone made you shut down

Donnie assured you that it was fine

he'd wait for you as long as you needed

Raphael

Look, Raph knows a thing or two about being self conscious

out of all of his brothers he's the one who worries about his appearance the most

but you- holy shit he thinks you're the most amazing, perfect human in the world

so when he finds out that you hate being touched and that thinking about relationships makes your skin crawl he doesn't know whether to genuinely cry for you or punch someone in the mouth

both is okay

You'd always been very bold with your words and sometimes you'd even joke that you couldn't even tell when you were flirting with him

it just slipped out

and hearing that even though you could pull that off as easy as breathing and compliment all of them endlessly but you struggled to be comfortable in your own body?

that was a lot to unpack in one sitting

but the longer he sat with you and listened to you talk him through it the more he understood

sure, it was horrible

and he wouldn't likely stop thinking about hurting the people who'd done this to you (there'd be too many to count)

but you had a way of making him understand things

it was his favorite thing about you

"Uh- you know y/n, I uh- personally I think you look great. Like- all the time."

plz insert awkward finger guns here

there, your playful smirk was back and you were wiggling your eyebrows at him

"Awhhhh... is that Raph I see having feelings?"

Leonardo

he'd done enough listening and reading to know how society treated people who it thought was different

and he hated that you'd had to experience that for most of your life

when it came down to it and he saw that you had become particularly hard on yourself he took it upon himself to check in with you

that's how you'd started meditating with him

and you'd found it quite relaxing if you were completely honest

Leo told you that meditation was the best way to connect with your body and understand it

you hoped that in time you would understand what he meant by that

but the positive affirmations were doing something, so you'd take it

he'd always encourage you when you couldn't yourself

and always jump to your defense when the others got a little to out of bounds with their words

you still would noticeably flinch when touched without warning

they were all working with that

and he still found himself saddened that you'd recoil back into your protective walls if anyone mentioned anything inherently romantic

but you were coming around

and he was endlessly proud of you for that

Alright I hope I was able to get down what you were thinking. This one definitely took the most contemplating out of any of the requests I've gotten so I hope you like it!

#tmnt x reader #tmnt bayverse #tmnt headcanons #tmnt leonardo #tmnt raphael #tmnt donatello #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt 2k16 #request #ask response #askbox

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aurorawest · 4 years

Note

Do you have any thoughts about the scene in the Avengers where Thor and Loki are conversing on that mountain top? I don't know, to me, Loki seems almost young and vulnerable there.

This scene is my favorite in Avengers, actually! Thank you for asking! And it turns out I have a lot of thoughts, so let me place them under a read more.

I agree, Loki is terribly vulnerable in this scene. That moment where Thor lands on the back of the quinjet and appears, and Loki sees him for the first time—man, there are a lot of emotions on Loki’s face in that split second reaction shot. He’s afraid, he’s overjoyed, he doesn’t want to be either one of those things. There’s some disbelief there too; I think maybe part of him thought he’d never see his brother again, despite the fact that I also think part of him had to feel like, well, if I attack Earth, that will get his attention.

The conversation they have on the mountaintop is a masterclass in them talking past each other. When I’m trying to really capture them doing that in my writing, I keep this scene in mind (the other is the escape from Sakaar sequence in Ragnarok, including the elevator). But where the scene in Ragnarok is almost like a dam about to break—both of them are struggling but trying, I think—in the Avengers mountaintop scene, neither of them has a clue. Neither of them seems to even realize how badly they talk past each other and how much dysfunction each of them contributes to the relationship. All they can see is that the other is spouting absolute bullshit, and why can’t he just understaaaaand???

They’re both guilty of this, by the way. I have to break this scene down line by line because like, it’s classic.

Thor: Where is the Tesseract?

Loki: [laughs] I missed you too.

The conversation gets off to a bad start. In Thor 1, Loki lets go of Gungnir because of what he perceives to be Odin’s rejection. I don’t know what Loki went through in the year between Thor 1 and Avengers 1, but I have extensive head canons, and I’m pretty sure he didn’t experience anything good. In any case, it culminated with Thanos, who you know, we all think tortured Loki, so. I wonder how many times Loki longed for his family to find him, to save him?

And now here’s his brother, and the first thing he says to Loki, the very first thing, is “Where is the Tesseract?” There’s not a shred of doubt in my mind that Loki’s “I missed you too” is actually sincere, but it’s wrapped in layers of sarcasm and poison because as far as he can tell, Thor didn’t miss him at all. Thor’s first act upon their reunion is another rejection.

Now, to be fair to Thor here, he thought Loki was dead. To his mind, Loki either survived but didn’t tell anyone or, even worse, faked his death from the start. Either one would be a huge violation of trust and Thor clearly feels rejected too. I think he’s also afraid that Loki not being his biological brother will lead to the fracturing of their relationship. We can see that Thor’s hurt in these next lines:

Thor: Do I look to be in a gaming mood?

Loki: You should thank me. With the Bifrost gone, how much dark energy did the Allfather have to muster to conjure you here? Your precious Earth.

Thor: I thought you dead.

Loki: Did you mourn?

Thor’s anger falls away here. I think he kinds of gets it, a little. The venom in Loki’s voice when he says ‘your precious Earth’—I think Thor realizes how he’s just come across. But he thought Loki was dead. And then Loki shows up on Earth, and he’s on a rampage; and why didn’t he tell anyone he was alive? Didn’t he want to come home? Why wouldn’t he want to come home?

Thor: We all did. Our father—

Loki: Your father. He did tell you my true parentage, did he not?

Womp womp. Thor doesn’t know how to deal with Loki like this. Loki is so angry. All the anger that Loki never gave free rein to, it’s finally on display in all its glory. Loki is sarcastic and cruel, he’s biting in a way we only see twice in Thor 1: once with Laufey, and of course the final fight with Thor. Thor sounds so lost when he says “We all did.” Like, Loki, of course I did, of course we did. He simply cannot process the fact that Loki thinks anything else would have happened.

Thor: We were raised together. We played together, we fought together. Do you remember none of that?

So Thor starts to get angry again. Loki is his brother. Of course he mourned, and to suggest otherwise is insulting. Remember how Thor 1 ends—it’s a huge downer. There’s no triumph; it’s just this family’s grief. Yes, Thor has learned his lesson about his arrogance, but then he says to Odin that he’ll never be as great a king as Odin is, and you know what, the way Anthony Hopkins plays that moment is brilliant. All you can see on his face is grief and doubt and the knowledge that he failed.

This is what Thor knows happened: he lost his brother and he grieved. Yes, he found out that Loki was adopted...but he doesn’t care. At no point does Thor give any indication that it matters that Loki isn’t related to him by blood, let alone that Loki is Jotun. Someone can correct me if I’m wrong, but Thor never once brings up the fact that Loki is a Frost Giant. It’s immaterial to him.

And yet, Loki is questioning that. Loki thinks Thor didn’t mourn; he thinks that Thor would care that they aren’t related by blood. Does Loki care that they aren’t related by blood? Loki has already shouted at Thor once that he isn’t Thor’s brother and never was. That can’t have been a nice thing to hear (I think I’ve talked before about how Loki doesn’t say ‘you’re not my brother,’ he says ‘I’m not your brother,’ which is an important distinction, IMO). And here, again, Loki is insisting that they aren’t real family. As Loki fans, it’s easy to sympathize with Loki here—but this all has to be hurtful to Thor, too. He loves Loki, and Loki is throwing it back in his face.

Oh, but just wait, Thor!

Loki: I remember a shadow—living in the shade of your greatness. I remember you tossing me into an abyss; I, who was, and should be king.

Loki. Looooki omg. Okay so, I think Loki is absurd in this scene. I think he’s magnificent, but like...yikes, Loki. It’s pretty clear that he’s not in his right mind. He thinks this happened. He honestly thinks Thor threw him away, instead of hanging onto him and begging him not to let go. What Loki says here is such a warped version of reality. This has no basis in fact.

And again, Thor doesn’t know what Loki’s been through. Thor doesn’t know that Loki is under the influence of the Mind Stone, that he’s been to the darkest corners of the universe, that he’s been tortured. All he knows is that the brother who he thought was dead for the past year has suddenly reappeared, not bothering to tell his family that he was still alive, and is now saying this stuff—that Thor essentially tried to kill him, that their relationship wasn’t real, that Loki never mattered to Thor.

So Thor gets angry again. Because that’s how Thor deals with stuff...by getting angry.

Thor: So you take the world I love in recompense for your imagined slights?

Imagined slights. Loki looks like he’s been punched in the chest when Thor says this. It’s another rejection and Loki slips further into a state of unreality. Thor doesn’t care what Loki’s been through, he doesn’t care about Loki’s pain, he doesn’t care how Loki felt...ever.

And I don’t know...if Thor had not been so angry at first, would he have gotten through to Loki later when he says ‘you come home?’ I’m not sure. Loki is pretty far gone here. But I think you can see in his eyes in that moment that he wants to. I think there’s a little flash of sanity there, of being able to see past all the dysfunctional bullshit. But of course, then it’s gone. :( Loki needles Thor again and Thor gets angry.

#Anonymous #loki #thor #loki meta #thor meta #brodinsons #avengers 1

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obeymeaskme · 3 years

Text

Obey Me!: Human and Demon Hearts!

A/N: I will be pinning a master list for ALL chapters uploaded, and adding links to said master list!

Chapter One: The Arrivals (2/2)

Word Count: 2213

Rating: 18+

Lights had filled the room. Purples, reds, greens, blues, yellows, golds, and pink flooded around the house like snakes searching for it's meal. Finding their targets still fast asleep, they coiled around their bodies until they were both covered head to toe. In almost an instant their bodies were swallowed whole, and the colored fog had disappeared as soon as they arrived. Leaving no one in their wake. Just the house. Empty of any breathing soul.

Through the closed eyes of the young girls, the colors still swirled. They were almost hypnotized by it. To each of their own the colors formed happy dreams, calming scents, and other promising visions. Even then, a black haze had started taking over. Though they were not awake their bodies had felt the shift and difference in their surroundings. Their skin no longer felt the soft warm beds. Now they lay flat on their backs upon two cushioned slabs. The air around them had grown hot, and uncomfortable. Their dreamy visions had finally faded to black, the panic set in, and they opened their eyes. Fully hoping their dreams turned into a nightmare. Concern and paranoia had set in as they shot up and locked eyes on each other. Fear evident in their faces.

Thoughts of cults and kidnappings came from their mouths as they tried so hard to figure out where they were. A loud and controlling voice echoed from nearby. They turned to the voice only to be met with seven uniformed men sitting under a high pedestal where another man sat, dressed in red. Noelle was first to stand up, her shaking feet feeling the stone cold ground that sent a shock through her body. Instantly, she stretched an arm out in front of Bella to protect her. The height difference between Noelle and Bella seemed comical to the seven men sitting at ground level, as various snickers and smirks were targeted towards them. The man above them speaking out again.

“Please, Don't be so afraid! You were brought here with good reason, and pure intentions!”

“What? Are you gonna brainwash us or something? Cause that would be the only "good reason" I can think of....”

Noelle spat back at the man, but shrunk slightly as he stood up, and frowned. Feeling looked down on, the girls tried to walk backwards for a door, but they only found the slabs they had woken up on.

“There will be no brainwashing, and you're more than welcome to leave at any time you desire. But only if you agree to change into more formal clothing, and listen to what I have to say...”

Noelle had yelped at the additional person who seemed to have been already standing by their side waiting, and holding on to clothing. A pleading look on his face had the girls silently agreeing to play along. Within the small amount of time they got dressed they seemed to have shaken off the general shock. Both of them seemed to admire the large banners decorated with different animals. They hung above the seven men in what was perceived as their rankings.

The silence that fell was broken too soon by the man in red who was obviously the leader of the group, and the silent servant who offered them clothes had stood next to him. Everyone now was on the same ground level.

“Let us try this again. I am Lord Diavolo, and you are the current hosts at the Royal Academy of Diavolo. Also known as RAD...”

“I knew it! It's a cult!”

Noelle exaggerated, and ruffled her nappy hair as a couple chuckles echoed around them. Her reaction almost lightened the mood.

“Not quite. I am the soon to be Heir of Devildom. The more civilized section of Hell's Layers. Or what some Humans tend to call the Underworld.”

The girls shook their heads in confusion. And for a few seconds they both looked at each other. Unsure if the truth was being told, but if it was...

“Wait... You said RAD. Oh dear god no. We tossed those out! We never gave them back to that creepy old lady! SHE DOESN'T EVEN KNOW US!”

Noelle seemed to panic as more and more irrational thoughts spewed out. A hand was placed on her shoulder, and she shrunk under the large man's touch. She reached back for Bella, but Bella had already backed away, fear seeping into her face.

“Those papers you filled out were connected to the ones in my office. As you filled those out, it carved ink into the papers here was well. Infused with my own magic. We call it Bleeding Applications. The main goal of my academy is to get an understanding of humans, demons, and angels in order to one day have peace between the three realms.”

Relaxing, Noelle nodded and looked back at Bella. Silently telling her that it's okay to get closer. She frowned as Bella shook her head no and opted to sit on the slab instead.

“Why us? We thought it was just a joke. What if we lied on those papers?”

“Well did you?”

“... No...”

“Perfect! I'd like to personally welcome you to the program! That is... If you agree to stay...”

A discussion took place about the new house they just bought, and their new lives they would miss out on. The teal haired servant that had guided the girls earlier was known as Barbatos. He was given the job to see that the newly acquired house would be taken care of as needed, and their payment would be completely paid off if they agreed to the program, and succeeded in staying. “But in hell?” Thought Noelle. “That's close to a death wish”. And as if her mind was read, they were introduced to the seven men who have been secretly judging them this whole time.

As the introductions went along it was revealed they were not just demons, or the school's council members, but they were all brothers. Lucifer. The eldest, who seemed to be the most put together, was the Avatar of Pride. Red eyes, and neatly kept black hair giving him a devilish charm, but an arrogant one as well. Mammon. The Second born who had made the most noise and laughter, and was obviously looking down on the girls. White hair, and unnatural blue eyes said trust, but he was the Avatar of greed. One to watch out for. The third born seemed bored of the whole situation, and would look away when either girl made eye contact. Dark lilac hair, with shiny orange eyes; the avatar of Envy. That was Leviathan. Fourth born, Satan, had given both the girls unwanted shivers as he was the Avatar of Wrath. The blonde hair and greenish blue eyes were comforting, but told them to run and hide. The fourth born, Asmodeus, was drilling holes into the girls with his own set of orange lush eyes. The mention of Lust made them both frown and slightly cringe as a quick wink was sent their way. Sandy hair was swept to the side flamboyantly. The last two were a set of twins. A redhead and a black haired male who's bangs were dyed white, and they shared purple eyes. Neither seemingly bored, or interested in the meeting. They were Beelzebub; Avatar of Gluttony, and Belphegor; Avatar of Sloth.

A bell rang out as soon as introductions were done, and everyone but the first born (Lucifer) had left. Stomachs growled and the girls looked around, avoiding his stare. Becoming impatient he walked by them. Nose in the air, and not bothering to even look at them.

“If you decide to follow me, I am heading to the cafeteria where we will give you a list of things you may want to avoid eating while you stay here. That is, if you have the gall to...”

Gulping they followed. The Cafeteria was empty, and it was no surprise to any of the demon brothers. As their food was handed to them, they both grimaced at the purple sludge consistency in front of them. They were soon forced to eat it, especially if they planned on eating any other foods that may contain poison. As much of the food in Devildom seemed to consist of. Soon after their crash course the girls were left to their own devices, and did their best to talk amongst themselves. Their decision to stay or leave weighed heavy.

Upon agreeing to stay, Lucifer seemed rather pleased with the news. The first genuine smile the girls had seen from him. It was then their task to talk with the brothers and decide who they chose as a tutor, who would also act as a guide.

Bella had immediately followed Noelle, and they first talked to the youngest, thinking that they would be the easiest to get along with. While they were not wrong about it, Bella seemed to relax more with the Sins of Gluttony, and Sloth. It became apparent that it was a two for one deal, and Noelle had stepped back to visually analyze her choices. By which she just looked at the remaining choices and their current activity. Satan and Asmodeus was almost an immediate no go. She feared she'd anger the wrath god, or be seduced. Neither of those were a good thing for her, or her mental health. Then her eyes laid upon Leviathan. The name stuck from TV shows she's watched in the past. Furthermore she couldn't help but recognize the hand held device in his hands.

Walking up to him with a bit more confidence, she sat beside him, and watched him for a few seconds. She recognized the sounds of Mario Kart being played. Perking up she waited for him to be seemingly done with his race.

“You know, I'm kind of a fan of racing games.”

Leviathan had rolled his eyes and gave her a frowning glare. It was obvious he didn't want to be bothered at this time. But before the conversation could continue, the bell rang, and Lucifer arose from his seat, his brother's watching him for instructions.

“I'm glad to see that you two have finally made your decision on your tour guides, and over all protectors-”

Noelle heard a quiet protest come from Leviathan, which was quickly shut down by Lucifer's glare.

“-Though they are now assigned to be your guides, this does not mean you must befriend them, or be attached at the hip. They have duties and hobbies of their own, and I expect you both respect that. Feel free to reach out to any of the brothers with questions. Now with that being said, you may head back to the council room, and collect your personal belongings, and devices.”

The bell had rung, but an eternity set in as Lucifer explained to them on how they were to settle in. Eventually they had collected a few bags of personal items, and enough clothes to get through the week. On top of that, they were given an allowance for other necessities, and any other luxuries they desired. It also turned out that the demons Bella and Noelle had been assigned were also key to their class schedule. Bella's classes consisted of study halls, history classes, along with a gym class. The final class earning a shared groan between Belphegor and Bella.

Noelle had a small bit of luck with more hands on classes such as dark arts, an actual art class, and potions. Though the tour between classes with Levi as her guide consisted more of him complaining about some 'Normie' having to follow him around. Noelle made mental notes of some complaints as to not make him mad.

The tours finally came to an end, and they were led to the House of Lamentation. A large Mansion where the Brothers lived, and where the Girls would be hosted for the school year. Dinner had passed by and soon the girls were brought to their rooms.

They hardly had time to admire the Gothic design of the home, as the girls split ways at the top of the stairs. Bella had taken a spare room closest to them, but Noelle had made her way down the hall. Leviathan had made a comment about how he's literally two doors across the hall from her room. He wasn't the nicest it seemed, as more insults of having to 'babysit' was made. An even bigger groan was made as he opened the door. It was a rather large storage room, that apparently Mammon was supposed to clean out before any new students arrived.

Arrangements were quickly made, and it seemed like Noelle would be staying in the living room until the storage space was cleared out. The darkness surrounded Noelle as Leviathan had left her alone rather quickly to go read Manga. Even though Noelle had expressed her fondness about the Japanese comics, it reached deaf ears, but was still greeted with a small 'whatever'. The night washed out the remaining lights. And Sleep was surprisingly attainable.

#obey me: human and demon hearts #obey me #obey me one master to rule them all #obey me fanfic #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphagor

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lit-in-thy-heart · 3 years

Note

I'm so excited you've jouned in!!! 💕

You owe Merwaine some happiness after your VERY angsty episode analyses so I would love those two and Sleepy hug please!! 😍

@little-ligi i hope this makes up for the angst!!! thank you for sending a prompt and have merlin and gwaine falling asleep together when with the knights and arthur on a trip thing (unspecified) between s4 and s5 💕

once again, under the cut because this is the longest one yet...

Rearranging his cloak so it provided greater coverage from the brisk wind, Gwaine glanced over at the group who were gradually drifting off amongst the fallen foliage. Despite the undiluted thoughts that inevitably streamed through his head when on watch, Gwaine relished the uninterrupted opportunity to softly observe Merlin without having the eyes of the other knights on him. If he had an apple for every time one of them – usually Percival or Arthur, despite Elyan’s quiet requests for them to shut up – had called him out for supposedly undressing Merlin with his eyes, he would certainly have a bushel of them by now. Granted, Gwaine sometimes did have the habit of mentally undressing Merlin with his eyes when he looked at him, but more often than not the knight was simply gazing in wonder at how such a beautiful being had chosen to devote his life to Gwaine of all people.

Merlin had been out of his sight for the past couple of hours, having accompanied Elyan to retrieve firewood, but Gwaine knew that they were both exchanging new spells that they’d learnt over the past few weeks. Elyan had told Gwaine about his magic before Gwaine had even had his suspicions about Merlin confirmed. Or, rather, Gwaine had stumbled in on Elyan, when the call of nature had echoed in his head on the night they had first met, and had witnessed him throwing all five of Gwaine’s knives without touching a single one. Gwaine had been more bothered by the fact that he hadn’t even noticed that his knives were missing than by the fact that Elyan was a sorcerer. And then, several weeks later, after Merlin had confessed to Gwaine on the night they had found themselves in bed together after an evening in the tavern, Gwaine had told both Elyan and Merlin to meet him in the Darkling Woods, greeted them with the statement that they both had magic, and had left them to it. Although he forced his unwavering support onto Merlin at every given opportunity, Gwaine knew the value of having someone close who knew precisely the struggles being faced, and he was grateful that Merlin had that in Elyan, and vice versa.

With a smile, Gwaine’s gaze slid over to Merlin, cocooned in a blanket and laughing at some remark that Elyan had sleepily murmured, and he settled himself against a tree trunk, moving his eyes back to the space in front of him as he withdrew his sword and positioned it across torso, the point of the blade hovering dangerously close to his neck. It was probably best that he was keeping watch alone, so he wouldn’t get distracted by talking to someone – but it also meant that there was nobody to check him when his attention slid, as it always did, to Merlin. He squinted up at the sky, seeking out the moon. At least he wasn’t expected to keep watch all night. Not that there was much need. Perhaps it was somewhat of an invincibility complex but, ever since donning the cloak bearing Camelot’s emblem, Gwaine had felt untouchable. Almost. The cloak hadn’t made Lancelot untouchable. Setting his jaw, Gwaine took a deep breath and focused on the lazy wave of the leaves opposite, on the stars splattered across the deep canvas of the sky like a bloodstain, on the soft melody of the wind.

‘Come on, now, Gwaine, you know full well how hot you look when you hold a sword like that.’

Perhaps Gwaine, who had not noticed Merlin – Merlin, of all people – approach, had not been the best choice for watch. He looked up with the smile that always graced his lips whenever the warlock was near, eyes dropping with Merlin’s body as he settled himself next to him. ‘I am by no means opposed to making out right here, right now.’

To satiate his desire, Merlin scattered a trail of kisses along his hairline. ‘I don’t think the others would appreciate it.’

‘Mm, you’re probably right there,’ Gwaine murmured, his fingers tracing Merlin’s face. ‘And you should sleep.’

‘I’m okay.’

Gwaine’s hands found the shadowed purple beneath Merlin’s eyes and he fixed him with a look. ‘I know that you haven’t slept properly for the past two weeks. I can see it written all over your face.’

Scowling, Merlin pushed his hand away. ‘Well that’s rude.’

‘But not a lie.’

Expression softening, Merlin wrapped the blanket tighter around his body.‘That’s because you’ve been on night patrol for the past two weeks and haven’t slept next to me.’

‘I don’t enjoy it.’

‘No, but at least you get to talk to Elyan. I’m left alone with the ceiling and my thoughts, and you know how much I hate that.’ Realising how he sounded, Merlin leaned closer into Gwaine. ‘I’m not trying to guilt-trip you. I know full well there’s nothing you can do about it.’

Just as Merlin knew that, Gwaine knew full well that he shouldn’t do what his arm had already started to do but, noticing Merlin’s poorly-concealed shivers, he set down his sword and drew Merlin in so the warlock was resting his head in Gwaine’s chest. Then, kissing the top of his head, Gwaine pushed him away as swiftly as he’d pulled him in. ‘Go to bed, love. If you fall asleep here then your neck will not be thanking you in the morning.’

Looking up, Merlin held his gaze for several moments. With a sigh, he lifted his head and kissed Gwaine on the mouth before reluctantly standing and stumbling back to the makeshift camp. Gwaine watched as he settled himself at a slight distance from the other knights and Arthur, his back turned. The flickering embers cast subtle shadows across Merlin’s back and Gwaine’s gaze remained turned towards him for several moments more before he forced his eyes to travel away from the warlock’s form. Gwaine didn’t need to see it to know how it moulded to his palms when they were alone.

When around other people, Merlin always seemed to skirt around Gwaine, always leaving at least several inches between their bodies, as if afraid of causing Gwaine to shatter as a mirage if he made even the slightest contact with his skin. Gwaine had started wearing gloves more frequently in the hopes that Merlin would be more liberal in brushing against him then, but it had all been to no avail. Then Gwaine had continued to wear gloves anyway, just so that his bare hands wouldn’t have the nerves numbed by grazing surfaces before they reached out for Merlin’s skin. The result was a warm tingle that, to some, would be more of a scald, but Gwaine savoured every moment that his skin was set alight by Merlin. Having a particular skill with fire spells also helped him not feel the agony of burning so much, too.

When they were alone, though, Merlin was the one to remove Gwaine’s gloves and, every time his fingers skimmed the bones in Gwaine’s hand, the knight had to focus so as not to release skittering flames in Merlin’s direction. There seemed to be a ritual with Merlin when they were alone. The warlock would gently draw the gloves from Gwaine’s skin, toss them to one side, and then dedicate a substantial amount of time to tracing the marks on the knight’s hands, no matter how many times his fingers had already followed the cellular paths that day.

First, he always looked for new scalds or burns, disregarding Gwaine’s protests that they didn’t hurt in the same way that their ancestors had when he had first started learning magic, skimming his fingers over the marks as if the touch formed a mental note to treat them at a later date. After assessing the damage, Merlin’s lips always trailed behind his touch, silently reassuring each of Gwaine’s imperfections that they were so wonderfully loved and successfully sending shivers up Gwaine’s spine. Though those shivers always were abruptly severed when Merlin’s touch made its way to the thick scar just below the fold of skin between his right thumb and forefinger. Merlin had never once pushed him for more information about his childhood amongst bandits, but there was always a part of Gwaine that worried Merlin would one day get sick of the sight of the small branded letter, not quite concealed by the path the knife had taken so long ago, and would abandon him to the abyss he had been lost in before meeting the warlock.

But that hadn’t happened yet.

After studying Gwaine’s hands, Merlin then moved to stripping him of his knighthood and it was a death that Gwaine would gladly watch again and again if it was at Merlin’s hands. The chainmail was cast aside, the cloak thrown over a chair, and the sword noisily skimmed the floor until Gwaine was stood in only a shirt and his trousers, equal to Merlin. The only armour Gwaine had ever wanted covering him, since that day at the tavern, was Merlin’s hands. Arthur hadn’t really given him an opportunity to turn down the knighthood and, even if he had, there was always the possibility – in Gwaine’s mind, at least – that Arthur would have been offended enough to maintain his banishment, and then Gwaine never would have seen Merlin again. Being a knight did have its advantages, though: Gwaine never went hungry, nor did he have to sleep with one eye open, and he had been getting into fewer and fewer brawls over the years. Though that last one was perceived as more of an advantage in Leon’s eyes, who had always been the one to drag him out of any frays and then let him cool off in the cells on the odd occasion. Even when that had happened, though, Merlin had always slipped in and spent the night with Gwaine, heating his body up to unnatural temperatures to keep Gwaine warm. The first few times that had happened, Gwaine had been terrified that Merlin would spontaneously combust, but Merlin had frequently assured him that such a trick was not possible.

So they would stand there, facing one another in silence, Gwaine’s materialistic armour strewn across the room, and then Gwaine would take Merlin gently in his hands, tracing segments of the form he knew so well, and then their souls would fuse together with their lips.

When the stars had shifted substantially, Gwaine hauled himself from his position and shook out his legs in the vain attempt to rid himself of the cramp in his limbs, slowly advancing towards Leon’s form. He gently prodded him awake, instinctively lunging backwards as the reflexive swipe came from the blankets, and held out his arms to receive said blankets when a thickened voice quietly called out his name.

Turning around, Gwaine could just make out Merlin’s hands stretching out in a half-hearted wave in the heavy darkness and, telling Leon to forget about the blankets, picked his way through the sleeping knights, guided by the dropping syllables of his name. By the time he reached Merlin, the warlock’s hands had fallen to the ground and, smiling fondly, Gwaine hastily stripped down to his gambeson and slid into the nest Merlin had made.

There were significantly more blankets than Merlin should have had – not that Gwaine was complaining – and Merlin drowsily pushed several layers towards him, turning around to face Gwaine. His eyes flickered in the darkness as his hand fell against Gwaine’s chest and, from the point where Merlin touched him, the knight could feel a comforting heat pushing into him like a blade. Gwaine realised he probably should have tied back his hair so Merlin didn’t accidentally try to eat it in his sleep, but he was too comfortable to do that. With a smile, Gwaine encircled the warlock with his arms and rested his mouth against Merlin’s forehead as his eyes closed.

‘I missed you.’

‘I missed you, too,’ Merlin murmured.

Gwaine frowned, one eye cracking open. ‘You were asleep. You couldn’t have missed me.’

There was a pause. ‘You know I wasn’t exaggerating when I said I couldn’t sleep properly without you next to me, right?’

‘I did not.’ Gwaine waited until he felt five of Merlin’s exhalations drape themselves around his throat before speaking again. ‘Whatever did you do before I came into your life?’

‘Had a decent night’s sleep, because I wasn’t aware of your existence and consequently didn’t have to constantly worry about preserving it.’ Merlin shifted against him, hands crawling under Gwaine’s shirt and settling themselves on his stomach. ‘It’s so strange to think that we didn’t even know that the other existed. That we had no idea that one day we would be right here, in this moment.’

Merlin, when tired, always became philosophical. And usually when Gwaine was tired he couldn’t make head or tail of what his significant other was saying, but perhaps the cool night air had cleared his head more than ale usually did. ‘I think I prefer it that way,’ Gwaine murmured. ‘If we’d known that the other was out there, then I think we would have spent all our lives searching. We would have pinned our entire existence on the other person and that’s...That just doesn’t feel right. Not that I’m saying I don’t love you.’

‘No, no, I know...I know what you mean,’ yawned Merlin, pushing his head into Gwaine’s chest.

Tightening his arms around Merlin, Gwaine listened to the rhythm of the warlock’s breathing pattern, trying to match his own to it, and gently kissed the top of his head. There was a slight mumble, and something that might have resembled an ‘I love you’ and Gwaine murmured it back, just in case. It had been too long since the two of them had drifted off together, wrapped in one another’s beings, and Gwaine would forever bind himself to the soft form that was quite literally touching his heart.

#so compared to moee recent ones this does seem quite fluffy...#thanks again for the prompt!!!#tbh i'm surprised the knights didn't huddle together for warmth when sleeping more often #it can get fucking cold #merlin #gwaine #merwaine #hug prompts #lit writes #bbc merlin #*more

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dragonrajafanfiction · 3 years

Text

Yggdrasil

"Is there anything you want to talk about?"

Toyama sat in his office behind a cup of tea across from his patient Tigre.

Tigre had been absent for two weeks performing entry exercises for Battlefield Training level 1. He'd performed exceptionally well, surpassing the students in his troop and complying dutifully with the strict schedule and regiment. At this point, not only was he physically able, but now he had experience in shooting, keeping watch, and setting up camp. He looked more tan, a bit stronger, more energetic. He kept decorum, but every time he saw him, he couldn't help but feel happy at his success.

Tigre had two more weeks of academic pursuits before returning to Battlefield Training for the next round. Toyama had been seeing him for his weekly counseling and needed to catch up with his mental health after missing a session.

Tigre took a deep breath, turning the delicate tea cup in his scarred hands. "I've been thinking a lot about where I come from. I didn't really care before. But people ask me questions like: where am I from? Who is my family? Where did I go to school? But all I remember is the cage. I should have memories growing up. Like going to school. I didn't learn to read and write in the cage. Who taught me? I don't know my real name. My real name is not Tigre. That's what they called me."

Toyama listened carefully. "Do you think these questions are important?"

Tigre was thoughtful for a moment. "No. That's not it. They're not important. I just don't want to tell people I lived in a basement all my life. I don't want to say that I don't know my real name. I don't know where my parents are…"

"But this is the truth." Toyama said gently. "How do you feel when they ask you these questions?"

Tigre thought about this and Toyama pulled a tissue from the box next to him and offered it to him.

"Sad…" Tigre said, wiping his face.

"What do you feel sad about?" Toyama asked.

"Just not knowing. I don't have anything to say… they ask who your parents are, you say I don't know and they… they look at me like they're sorry."

"That makes you feel sad?" Toyama asks. "Or are you sad before then?"

"Um…" Tigre tries to think. "Starting out, I never thought about my past. But now I'm afraid that every time I meet someone, they will ask questions like that. I'll already start getting sad before they ask that."

"So you feel bad in anticipation…"

"Yes. That's it."

Toyama nodded and made a note. "So when you meet someone, you feel sad because you feel like you can't open up to them about your amnesia. Then they ask about it. You tell them. They feel sorry, and then you feel sadder. Because they're sad."

"That's the gist of it."

"How do you think that is affecting your social life?"

"Probably not good. It's not easy to meet new people. I don't want to talk about myself."

"Understandable." Toyama was sitting with one leg crossed over the other, and, as though to signal a change of subject, he switched legs.

"Have you tried to remember?"

"Yes." Tigre licked his lips. "I remember hearing a big crash and seeing Chu Zihang walk out. I called him brother. Before that, I was lying down in the chains. I…"

Toyama kept quiet, making notes.

"I remember… fighting. Killing something or someone. Their faces were distorted. But I don't remember when that was. I remember people calling me Tigre, but they are just shadows in my mind."

"You don't remember doing anything else? Only rescue, fighting, lying down… and the shadows?"

Tigre sat still. He tried to focus. He was recalling images from his captivity. But he couldn't understand what order they went in. They called him Tigre… when? He killed that creature… but when? How long was he stuck down there? Which image came first? His memory was like two mirrors facing each other creating an endless array of identical reflection.

"What about before your confinement? Do you remember anything?" Toyama asked.

Tigre closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and tried to think of a memory of his childhood. He tried to remember life under a bright sun and a blue sky. The feel of the warmth of the day on his skin…. and was struck with a sudden wave of nausea so intense that the tea he just drank bubbled into his mouth like a geyser. He rushed to the trash bin, knocking over his chair, and barely made it in time.

Toyama watched him gagging helplessly and stood up. "Do you need help?"

Tigre was shaking and struggling to catch his breath. Toyama knelt next to him. "It's okay. Just relax." He handed him a tissue to help him wipe his face. "Did anything come to mind?"

"No… nothing."

Toyama pulled Tigre's hair back to keep it from going into the vomit. "It's not a failure. We will find a way to recover your memories. Every attempt is progress. I'd like to propose something… I'd like to get a scan of your brain."

Tigre gave him a fearful look. "Will it hurt?"

"No. But I think we can both agree that just the act of remembering something forgotten shouldn't have this reaction right? This reaction is more physical than mental."

A few hours later, Tigre is back in the clinic, in the lab on the fourth floor where they had the MRI machine. Tigre was lying on his back listening quietly to music and staying as still as he could.

Toyama stood in the room behind the imaging machine and the technician operating it sighed in irritation. "None of the images are clear."

"Is he moving around?"

"No that's not it. I'm getting interference in the magnetic resonance. Does he have any metal on him? Or any implants?" The technician asked.

"Implants…" Toyama whispered. Could something have been implanted in Tigre? Something blocking his memories? "Can you see any implants?"

"I can't see anything with these terrible images! I have to stop the test." He clicked a few times on the program to abort the test. "Oh come on… what is happening…"

"What's wrong?"

"The computer screen just froze!" In the next second, the computer switched off and all the lights went out.

Red emergency lights from a generator came on. "Tigre… stay where you are, I think… ah the communication system isn't working either." The tech said.. "I'll go get him."

From the technician booth, there was a window. So Toyama saw the technician enter the room. He had barely gotten three steps in when the man abruptly collapsed to the floor and began convulsing.

Toyama started to hurry down but stopped. If he entered the room would he start convulsions as well? Tigre was not moving. Was he dead?!

Power suddenly returned to the room and the man stopped his seizures and lay still. Norma's voice suddenly came over the loudspeakers. "A very strong EMP was detected in this building. Agents are in route to investigate. I am assessing the damage. "

EMP? Electromagnetic pulse? The MRI machine was smoking!

Toyama rushed down to help the technician, kneeling down close. His eyes were rolled back white and he was breathing bloody foam.

Tigre had slid out of the MRI machine and looked stunned at the scene. "What happened?"

"You're alive! Thank God. Here, call for help."

Toyama tossed him his phone. He expected Tigre to catch it but it fell and cracked against the tile floor. Tigre just stared at him. "Who are you?"

Toyama felt the blood rush from his face.

Tigre looked at him in confusion. "Where am I? What is this place."

Toyama stood up. "No…" His voice trembled. He stepped towards Tigre in a daze. "No!"

Tigre backed away until he could back away no further. "Stay away!"

Toyama's eyes suddenly blazed yellow. While it was true that students could not use Yanling on campus, due to the nature of his work, Toyama would need special access to his Yanling at all times. A top secret method of defeating the Alchemy matrix that suppressed Yanling was granted him. So even though no one on Campus could use theirs, he could use his.

He stared into the wide and frightened eyes of Tigre and dove into memories that were already fading, burning to ashes like trees in a wildfire! Memories of them together in the hospital. Memories of his first day of school.

Burning fury burst from Toyama and he opposed the force operating on Tigre’s mind in a single burst, roaring like an angry lion and rushing in the fight. Such a reaction may have struck many as unexpected. Toyama was a gentle soul. He was a professor, a psychologist and a priest, but he was also a member of the Secret Party and a Hybrid. The trail of blood he left was invisible, the battles were fought on the stage of the mind. He’d erased family, friends, lovers, precious moments. So long as they were contaminated by memories of dragonkind, those thoughts were his to slaughter.

For the first time, this peerless psychological warrior was being tasked, not to destroy but to protect. He planted himself in the middle of this mental obliteration and started to rebuild it. Tigre didn’t understand how much Toyama knew him. He’d walked these neural pathways more ways than he could count, like a woodsmen in a forest, he knew the trails of the memories he created. He rebuilt them.

“Who are you?” He demanded this mental fire. “What are you?”

He received no answer, only a corresponding increase of force, like a bull locking horns with him. As their strength collided, Toyama received a vision that he’d never received so far. This was alien, not native to Tigre’s mind. An outsider thought.

A great tree, shrouded in mist, grew out of the desert. It was so tall that it pierced the cloud cover. Toyama watched in wonder as the white gleaming speck of a 777 passenger plane looked like a sparrow flying through its branches. At the base of the tree was a black dragon, but the dragon was dead. One of the tree’s roots ran through its eye socket. “Yggdrasil?”

Toyama could feel his own hands squeezing Tigre's arms tight while the other man struggled. Brainwashing was supposed to be a painless process. You were not supposed to be able to perceive the changes. Tigre didn't realize he was forgetting everyone around him a few moments ago. He had just failed to recognizeToyama. But now that he was both forgetting and having memories restored at once, he was trying to pull away and crying in fear, unable to control his own thoughts as two powerful entities struggled for custody of his mind.

Toyama held on to him. He regretted the trauma he was no doubt inflicting. Even though he was not religious, he worked in the Church on campus as a junior priest and knew how to pray. For the first time he actually did. He was up against something powerful, otherworldly. Even if Tigre would never trust him again, he prayed that he could at least remember him! The force that was erasing his memories was relentless, but it wasn't smart. It didn't try to figure Toyama out. It just erased memories in the same pattern once he restored them. Toyama could learn that pattern.

So long as Toyama safeguarded those memories, the attacker couldn't advance. The memory of meeting Chu Zihang the first time, waking up the first time in the hospital, the 3E exam -- these were the main points of interest to this mysterious entity. Toyama stood as a bulwark against them, and instead attacked this tree. Where is it?

Tigre's mind suddenly shut off and he slumped against him. Toyama's mind was kicked abruptly back into his body. Toyama felt unbearably hot and thirsty. Sweat dripped onto the linoleum floor.

Toyama reached up and felt Tigre's pulse through his neck. Though he was pale and limp, Tigre was still alive.

If there was really something implanted in his head, there should be a mark, a scar. Toyama carefully started running his hands over Tigre's scalp, looking for any deformity. His fingers ran over a small series of ridged right on top of his head.

Toyama tilted Tigre's face toward him to see and pulled his hair back with his thumb and forefinger. A scar, in the shape of an Alchemy rune? It was a perfect circle in a circle. Like an eye!

At this moment, members from the Executive board rushed in and surrounded him. “I’m alright! The situation is under control, but I have an urgent message for the school board! This is a serious situation!”

Toyama made sure that Tigre was moved to the 5th floor. “I’m sorry. But you have to be returned to quarantine. I don’t know if you can hear me...” Toyama whispered to the unconscious Tigre.

He raced back downstairs towards the library. He climbed to the second floor and burst into the door. The library was like a beehive that had been struck. It was full of workers trying to reconnect with everything that had been knocked offline by the EMP blast. Schneider and Guderian were watching. Who know where Manstein was.

“I need a word.”

Schneider looked at him in surprise. His shirt was wrinkled, and transparent against his chest and his hair stuck to his forehead.

“Guderian get our systems back to normal.” Schneider strode away and Toyama didn’t wait, immediately leaving the room to a side office.

“Here, it’s not much but at least wipe your face off.” Schneider offered him a tissue box.

“I’ve finally figured Tigre out. Tigre is not a dragon. He’s a hybrid. But there is something in him that is dragonkin. That is what is erasing his memories. I suspected something physically wrong with him for a long time. So I had an MRI scan done of his head. But when the scan began, a huge EMP blast exploded on campus! When I approached him, he acted like he didn’t know me. So I used my Yanling to peer in his mind and something else was there. Another thought, thoughts that weren’t his. These things were pruning his memories.”

“I dove into the mind of that thing and I saw a memory of a tree. A great tree in the fog. So big that a plane flying by looked like a bit of office paper in the wind. And at the roots of the tree I saw a dragon but it was dead.” He flipped over a piece of paper on a desk in the office and pulled the cap of a pen and held it in his mouth while he drew. I thought, Yggdrasil, but it’s not Yggdrasil. I believe this is a dragonborn thing.”

“Is it controlling him?”

“It’s erasing his memories for a purpose. It was after all memories of dragonkind in his brain. It didn’t seem… conscious. I didn’t adapt strategies, it kept going after the memories… like a zombie, mindlessly trying to eat his brain.” He finished his drawing and leaned on the desk. “I know that dragons can sense the thoughts of humans and can either attack or evade. So this sort of behavior isn’t unheard of. A dragon can manipulate the thoughts of humans. After all.. I can. I defended his mind as best I could. But as for now I’ve returned him to the quarantine area of the clinic to make sure he’s safe.”

Schneider rumbled. “An unfortunate turn of events.”

“I feel bad for him and for Chu Zihang. I know rescuing Tigre meant a lot to him.”

Schneider froze.

Toyama chuckled. “I know that boy too Schneider. He’s a kind person. He was happy to save Tigre and followed his progress because he cared. You kept Tigre alive for his benefit right?”

Schneider sighed softly.

“But we have to … face reality.” Toyama hung his head, leaning on the desk. “If that thing is in his head and it can’t be removed… it will likely kill him at some point. Even if we’re not forced to kill him.”

Schneider walked over and placed one hand on his shoulder.

#Dragon Raja

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fmdrorinarchive · 3 years

Text

━━━━━━ 𝖆 𝖓𝖊𝖜 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖊𝖓𝖌𝖊𝖗 𝖆𝖕𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖆𝖈𝖍𝖊𝖘… 💋 〈 Below the cut is an intro for Michelle Chae of Chroma // Please 𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖘 𝖕𝖔𝖘𝖙 to plot, and thanks for reading !! 〉

𝖘𝖊𝖑𝖋-𝖎𝖓𝖙𝖗𝖔𝖉𝖚𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓.

Hi again, friends !! This is Boone ( 19+ / MDT / HE & HIM ) and you may recognize me as the typist behind Vive’s maknae, Yoo Rioh. I’ve decided to bring in another muse! Like Rioh, Michelle’s just starting out in her career and I can’t wait to see her grow. ♡ To find out more, please read onwards !! I can’t wait until she gets to meet all of your muses !! Oh, here are a few trigger warnings to look out for if you continue to read: mentions of drug addiction and parental abandonment; mentions of slut-shaming and misogyny.

𝖖𝖚𝖎𝖈𝖐 𝖋𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖘.

MICHELLE RORIN CHAE, b. 19990620

BORN & RAISED IN VALLEY GLEN, CA

FORMER COMPETITIVE FIGURE SKATER

BC ENT / CHROMA & CHROMA EMBER

SUB VOCALIST, SUB RAPPER, VISUAL

𝖋𝖚𝖗𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖎𝖓𝖋𝖔.

RESEMBLES KIM MINJEONG ( WINTER ) OF ÆSPA

SHE STANDS AT A MODERATE 163 CM ( 5 FT, 3 IN )

CISGENDER FEMALE, USES SHE / HER PRONOUNS

GEMINI CANCER CUSP, YEAR OF EARTH RABBIT

HETEROFLEXIBLE, KINSEY SCALE #2, CURIOUS

𝖉𝖊𝖊𝖕 𝖉𝖎𝖛𝖊.

TRAJECTORY / Michelle was born in Valley Glen, CA to David and Heesun Chae—the owners of a struggling restaurant in their neck of the woods. As a kid, she trained to become a figure skater, but when her father bailed on her and her mother because of a drug addiction, she couldn’t afford the expenses for coaching, etc. so she retired from it for now. / Instead of being able to truly enjoy her youth, she had to pick-up after school jobs in order to help her mom with bills, and for awhile, her only source of comfort was spent with guys that showed her affection. Her relationships with boys grossly gave her the title of a “whore” to her peers, so she sadly didn’t have many friends to lean on in high school. / Originally traveled to Korea to earn a nursing degree from SNU, but got scouted by BCE on her first day—prompting her to drop out of school to focus primarily on training. This enraged her mother as the plan was for her to become a nurse so they no longer had to worry about money. / After only a few months of training, she’s selected to debut as a member of Chroma. OTHER FACTS / Not mentioned in her biography is the fact that she grew up in a fairly religious family. Mom and dad were raised Christian, so they raised their daughter the same. She was never into church, though. She always felt as though she was being judged harshly by the others in attendance. Hell, she even thought that of her mother quite often. Her style was never as pristine as her mom would’ve liked and no one understood her interests in the occult, in anime, in video games, and so forth. By the time she was eighteen, she stopped showing up to service altogether—which her mom didn’t like, but respected nevertheless. / She still likes to skate in her spare time... but she doesn’t really have any nowadays. You’d think that she’d be in the dance line due to her past in performance, but since she stopped skating, she’s lost a lot of her flexibility and power. She hopes to improve though! / She’s never had many close female friends, so she looks forward to hopefully bonding with her members as they grow closer. This is something she wants to change about herself a lot. INSPIRATION / For Michelle, I pulled a lot of inspiration from a few different characters from television series, mainly Cassie Howard from Euphoria; Manuella “Manny” Santos from Degrassi: The Next Generation; Tessa Campanelli from Degrassi JH / High; and Britney Orton from We Are Who We Are, among others!

𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖘𝖔𝖓𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖙𝖞.

01. On the surface, Michelle’s reasonably pleasant to be around. She has a deep interest in people, especially those she’s close to, so if you’re a friend of her’s, she genuinely wants to know all about you and deeply cares about how you’re feeling / doing. Some might perceive this high level of intrigue as romantic, and she’s... not ever really going to confirm or deny those types of feelings. She’s a huuuge believer in love and doesn’t want to end up like her parents, but also has no idea what she’s doing when it comes down to it. She didn’t have the best example to look up to, so you know. 02. Michelle’s really talkative, and she’s witty, and she knows how to charm the pants off of most people, and while that’s loud and present in her character, she also has many faults. For one, her emotions are really strong and her mood is easily affected by others and events that occur in day-to-day life, so she has a tendency of being moody. That, and she also isn’t the best “rule follower” either. Does she care that there’s a dating ban in place for she and Chroma? Absolutely not. Did she experiment with drugs and alcohol in high school when they were forbidden to her? Yes. She’s not the best at making decisions, but she believes that taking risks shape better people... even if that belief’s a little skewed. 03. Some people say that she might be a little too “sweet” for her own good sometimes and she’s prone to getting her heart stomped on, but she’s not all that innocent. While she’s a huge believer in love, she’s not exactly good at it. She enters in and out of relationships all the time, and she loves the honeymoon phase, but whenever it starts to get too “real,” she gets nervous and bails. Abandonment issues FTW? A very strong possibility. 04. She’s also empathic to a fault on occasion. It’s easy for her to pick up on the emotions of others and it’s hard for her not to carry them on her shoulders. She’s had a difficult time learning that boundary for herself, and well, at this point, she doesn’t even realize that it’s a thing. Mother taught her how to be kind and nurturing towards loved ones, but she can take it to a degree that isn’t healthy for anyone—especially if love / romance is involved. 05. Her chattiness can sometimes land her in trouble, but that’s because she has a hard time filtering what she says. Her mind runs a mile a minute and her speaking patterns are similar, so sadly, she can’t control what comes out of her mouth sometimes... pray for her.

𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖉-𝖈𝖆𝖓𝖔𝖓𝖘.

01. If I were to make any sort of “claim” on what I imagine her voice sounding like, it’d be a lot like J from STAYC, maybe with a little mix of fromis_9′s Seoyeon. There’s a delicate husk there, and it’s a little lower than the others, but it’s extremely recognizable and unique. That is her biggest asset as a singer and rapper. She’s not had enough time to truly make drastic improvements to either skill given her short stint as a trainee, but she’s working really hard to get better and doesn’t want to be seen as just a pretty face forever. 02. Dance-wise, she’s actually pretty strong—just nowhere near as trained as Chroma’s dance line. Due to her extensive background in figure skating ( and a little bit of ballet ), she’s got a really natural gracefulness to all of her moves; a fluidity that allows for strong body rolls, etc. Additionally, she focuses on clarity and sharpness, angles, as that’s what she’s most familiar with. Michelle also has great control of her hip-area and often adds variations to moves using her hips. If I were to select a reference, I’d say Oh My Girl’s Arin and TWICE’s Mina. Some of her faults are that her movements are often too light and soft, so whenever power is needed, she lacks strength there. She also has a tendency of making choreography look a little “sensual” without necessarily intending to. 03. Loooves when people call her Mish or Chelle/Shell. Honestly, she adores nicknames—both giving and receiving them. She’s also a heavy user of pet names in conversation, but tries her best to stop if people are uncomfortable with it. 04. Michelle’s typically not afraid of making her affections known, even early on. She’s the type that’ll definitely hit on you if she thinks you’re handsome / attractive, and goes with the flow if the person responds positively. If she gets really cozy with you, she can come off as clingy in the beginning, but that typically subsides with time. That’s applicable to both her friendships and her romantic relationships. 05. Her public image is similar to that of Alice in Wonderland and Snow White—beauties with fair skin and wide eyes; imaginative and curious; trapped in purity and sweetness; soft, feminine, and delicate—but with a slight “edge” because of her rapping and quick wit. It’s hard for her to keep up with it all the time—especially when she’s a bit different personally—and she’s barely starting in her career. She hopes it evolves over time. 06. She’s decided to go by her Korean name as an idol because it made the most sense, to be honest. Though, a few other stage names tossed around were: Chelle, Wooah, Hayan, Rozy, and Baekseol. In the end, she’s happy she’s just Rorin or Michelle to everyone.

𝖕𝖑𝖔𝖙-𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖊𝖘.

This section will be updated when her plots page is complete. Please look forward to it !! I’m getting it done as fast as I can. In the meantime, I’m happy to brainstorm and look over your muses’ plots pages too !! ♡

#〈 INTRODUCTION. 〉#〈 YOUR ONE & ONLY. 〉

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askwenjing · 3 years

Text

Secret Santa 2020 - Request #43

@rotgsecretsanta

For request #43: Pitch black with dreamsand butterflies

I hope you like it.

Disclaimer: Rise of the Guardians belongs to Dreamworks. I do not own the movie.

------

A Dream Too Good to be True

The last thing Pitch remembered was that he was sent upwards by an uppercut from Sandy. Then, he was forcefully pulled towards the ground and then his world went black.

Pitch opened his eyes. He tried to sit up. He felt the aching pain from his forehead. How long had he been knocked out? He looked around his surroundings. It was pitch black – just like him.

Suddenly, a butterfly appeared in front of his eyes. It was made of golden dreamsand. Pitch was intrigued by its appearance. He did not understand why it was here. As he was about to reach out and catch it, the butterfly flew away.

He stood up and started chasing the butterfly. He wondered where it was taking him. He managed to grab the butterfly seconds later. He slowly opened his fist, and to his surprise, multiple gold butterflies flew out.

His surroundings began to change. He found himself in Burgess. He wondered if he had awakened from his dream.

As he turned around, he saw a couple of children staring at him. Their eyes widened in shock and fear. Pitch could hear them whispering “It’s him! The Boogeyman!”

Pitch was as shocked as them. They could see him! They believed in him! He approached the kids cautiously and let out a “boo!” The children screamed in terror, but their screams quickly turned to laughter.

“It is you! The Boogeyman!” one of the boys smiled brightly.

“I like it when you scare us! It feels like those horror movies and haunted houses that I enjoy!” another boy said.

“I know you give us nightmares, but you help us to treasure what we have right now!” a girl exclaimed.

“Not to mention that you have kept us safe from so many dangers in the world!” another girl added.

“Are you a guardian? Because you really are one!” a boy said.

Pitch was baffled when he heard the last sentence. He was not with the Guardians. However, he did think of himself as a guardian in the past. After all, without fear, the children would stray away from the adults, walk into the forest in the dark, and get mauled by wild animals.

Though, this was the first time a child perceived him as a guardian, not a monster to be feared. He felt appreciation for the first time, but he felt that he must correct the child.

“Well… I am not actually a guardian…” Pitch admitted.

“Actually, you are a guardian!” a voice with a thick Russian accent interrupted Pitch’s sentence.

Pitch knew that it was North. He turned his back and saw the guardians standing there. He was confused to see them beaming with pride and joy.

“What… what do you mean?” Pitch questioned North.

“We should have known better, Pitch. The world needs fear, and you use it to protect children.” North explained.

“We shouldn’t have asked you to change. Fear is your centre. We should have accepted you when we invited you to join us.” Tooth added.

“I guess you’re just misunderstood, mate.” Bunnymund remarked with a smile. Sandy also smiled at Pitch.

“We don’t have to be alone, Pitch.” Jack Frost stepped in front of the guardians as he spoke. “I believe in you. The guardians believe in you. The children believe in you. And I know that the Man in the Moon believe in you too.”

Pitch was surprised to hear that. “R-really?” he stammered.

“Yes!” Jack grinned. Pitch looked up to the sky and noticed the barest hint of the face of the Moon. His lips pulled a small smile when he saw the Moon smiling back at him.

“You could join us, Pitch.” Jack offered. “But we are not going to force you. You can think about it, but no matter what decision you make, we will always be here for you. After all, we are family.”

Jack extended his hand to Pitch. In response, Pitch stretched his hand and placed it on Jack’s palm. Pitch startled slightly from Jack’s cold touch, but it quickly became warm.

Tears began streaming down his face. Those were not sad tears – those were happy tears. Pitch had never felt this in his entire life.

“Thank… Thank you.” Pitch thanked Jack and smiled.

Suddenly, to Pitch’s surprise, Jack hugged him! The Guardians quickly joined in to give Pitch a group hug. Pitch did not like group hugs, but he would let it slide this time. He was just happy to feel someone’s touch after centuries of children passing through him and other mythical beings ignoring him.

Pitch groaned in pain. He opened his eyes to see the Guardians, the children and the yetis having a snowball fight as various Dreamsand creatures roamed around the town of Burgess. He was in disbelief – there was not an ounce of fear in the children’s eyes. Instead, they were having fun and their eyes were filled with joy.

Fun. Pitch thought. That’s Jack’s centre. Jack is the Guardian of Fun.

Pitch’s body began to shake with rage. He and Jack could have been a great duo – fear and fun could go well together. After all, how could anyone explain the existence of haunted houses and horror movies if humans did not enjoy them? Unfortunately, Jack rejected his offer because he did not want to be feared. Jack rejected him because of his centre – because he was the embodiment of fear. Jack had left him to be with the Guardians, leaving him in the cold and dark.

“You dare have fun in my presence! I am the Boogeyman! AND YOU WILL FEAR ME!” Pitch screamed. He lunged at Jamie, but instead of catching him, Jamie ran through him as if he was a ghost.

Pitch was devastated at the realization. The children no longer believed in him. He had no power over them because they did not fear him.

He saw the Guardians approaching him. He knew that he would not stand a chance against them, and knowing that he tried to destroy them, he knew it would not end well.

He fled into the forest as fast as the shadows could take him, but he could not outrun the Guardians. The Guardians caught up to him at the frozen pond.

“Leaving the party so soon?” North asked and smiled at Pitch who had crashed into him.

“You didn't even say goodbye.” Tooth noted and tossed something to Pitch.

Pitch caught it and it was a coin. “A quarter?” he was unimpressed.

His jaw was suddenly met with Tooth’s fist. The force knocked out one of his teeth.

“And that's for my fairies.” Tooth said and her Mini Fairies made nasty faces towards Pitch.

“You can't get rid of me! Not forever! There will always be fear!” Pitch scowled. He knew that he was right because fear would forever exist in everyone’s hearts, and he would continue to find ways to thwart the Guardians.

“So what? As long as one child believes, we will be here to fight fear!” North retorted. The other Guardians agreed with him.

“Really? Then what are they doing here?” Pitch questioned as hundreds of Nightmares encircled the pond. It was a terrifying sight, but the Guardians were unfazed.

“They can't be my Nightmares, I'm not afraid.” North stated.

Pitch’s eyes widened and his mouth was shut close. If the Nightmares did not smell fear from the Guardians, then it must be…

“Looks like it's your fear they smell.” Jack told Pitch.

The clouds suddenly parted and the moonlight shone through. It was the sign that Pitch feared most – the Guardians had emerged victorious. He had lost and had returned to square one – alone, weak, and nobody to fear or believe in him.

His eyes grew with horror as the Nightmares charged towards him. He tried to run but the Nightmares caught up to him easily. Streaks of black whip latched onto him and they began thickened, forming a cloud of black sand. The black sand pulled him through the forest and his screams could be heard clearly. Finally, he was pulled under the old, broken bed frame and into the hole to his lair.

Before the hole sealed itself up, Pitch caught a glimpse of the dreamsand butterfly that he had seen in his dream. He reached out and caught it. However, the gold butterfly immediately turned into a pile of black sand in his fist.

A tear ran down Pitch’s cheek. It was not a happy one like in the dream – it was a sad tear. He let the darkness and black sand overtook him. He knew it all too well – it was a dream too good to be true.

#rotgsecretsanta #rotgsecretsanta 2020 #rise of the guardians #rotg #fanfiction #fanfic #pitch #pitch black

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wolveria · 4 years

Text

Unable to perceive the shape of you - Ch. 1

Pairing: Connor x f!Reader x Nines

Summary: After breaking the RK twins out of the MarineLife facility, you were determined to return them to the ocean before getting caught by your employer.

What you hadn't counted on were the brothers deciding you belonged to them.

Prompt: Mermay!

Word Count: 2.3k

AO3

The lab was empty and the only noise that filled the space was the gentle sound of lapping water. After a quick glance to make sure the techs had left for the day, you sat at the edge of the tank and pulled off your shoes and socks, dipping your toes into the chilly water. A sigh escaped you, the cold a balm against your aching feet, and the pain in your legs receded to a manageable level.

As if on cue, two fins broke the surface of the water, one stout and grey while the other was dark, elegant, but curled over as if it had lost its rigidness. They headed in your direction, causing ripples from the speed of their passing. Just as the disturbances reached you, they broke the surface, revealing twin faces with very different expressions.

The one with the grey dorsal fin chirped in greeting, brown eyes wide as he rubbed the side of his face against your shin like a cat. You smiled, just as you did every time Connor greeted you that way, and reached down to run your hand through his slicked brown hair. And like every other time, his eyes became half-lidded and a soft rumble came from his chest.

The other Ceta sapien with the dark, limp dorsal fin, his twin brother, kept at a tentative distance. Icy grey eyes, the color of stone in the dim light, watched with an unreadable expression. That was to be expected from Nines, but you knew him long enough to know that he was pleased to see you.

“Sorry I’m late,” you said as you rolled up your pant leg, attempting to keep it dry and away from Connor’s affectionate rubbing. “Had a lot of work to finish up.”

Your smile faded as you took in the sight of the contraption around his head; a metal cage that acted as a muzzle, forced onto him earlier that day by the technicians. Nines must have done something to piss them off again.

“I hope you didn’t bite anyone this time,” you said gently, fishing a ring of keys out of your pocket. “Not that they don’t deserve it. I just don’t want them to put you in isolation again.”

You held out your hand to show him the keys. “Come here, I’ll take it off.”

You’d probably get in trouble for it, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. The only reason you were still at this shitty job was because of the RK twins. Everyone else treated them like curiosities at best, lab rats at worst. You were genuinely afraid what would happen to them if you left.

Connor rested his chin on your bare knee as he watched his brother cautiously swim toward you. His face normally didn’t have a huge range of expression, but you could have sworn the area around his eyes was tight with fear. That wasn’t like him at all.

Making sure your movements were slow and unthreatening, you reached down to the small padlock keeping the strap in place. The techs had put it there because Nines had figured out how to undo the straps and remove the muzzle himself, leaving it at the bottom of the massive tank so the divers would have to get it. Probably on purpose, knowing him.

Your fingers were careful as you removed the lock and pulled open the straps, lifting the cruel device from around his face.

“There,” you said, tossing the muzzle away, glad to be rid of it. “That’s better, isn’t it?”

Nines remained silent as he usually did, nowhere near as vocal as his brother, but he brushed the edge of one broad shoulder against your calf, leaving you warm with surprise as he retreated a safe distance. You could count on one hand the times he’d made physical contact, and as far as you knew, you were the only person he’d ever touched willingly.

Connor, on the other hand, was an insatiable cuddle-bug, and even now he was nudging his nose against your leg, and then actually licked it, making you jump.

“You’re especially clingy today.” You ran your fingers through his hair, eliciting another happy thrill. “Is it because of what they did to Nines?”

The smaller ceta was normally much more friendly with humans, but when they handled Nines roughly, he could become a vicious storm of teeth and claws. The techs never worked on them both at the same time for that reason, separating them into different pools and causing them both more stress than necessary.

You hated it. Hated everything about this place, from the rough techs to the cruel doctors. Dr. Stern made your blood run cold, but Dr. Kamski made the flesh on the back of your neck prickle. You hated them both, and you were human. You couldn’t imagine what it was like for the twins.

“It’s okay,” you said, rubbing Connor’s cheek now and letting him lean into your palm. “You’re both okay now.”

A lie you had to tell but hated telling. More than you hated your heartless bosses who only saw the cetas as a source of grant money and academic prestige.

As if they could sense your mood, which you were half-convinced they could, Connor wrapped his fingers around your ankle and gently tugged. He was always gentle with your legs, especially on bad pain days. That’s just how Connor was, in tune with your moods in a way that was almost unsettling.

Even Nines swam closer, brows perked with interest as he hovered a couple feet away.

“I don’t know if I have time for that tonight, guys,” you said, shoulders hunched. “It’s late and I have to be in early tomorrow—“

Connor interrupted you with a pitiful noise very close to a whine and his brother frowned up at you, lips pursed into an expression that was almost, and hilariously, bitchy. Sometimes, you really thought they understood what you were saying. You wished more than anything they could talk, but they couldn’t. They weren’t human, no matter how you wished otherwise.

Connor gave up on pulling you into the water, and instead propped his chin on your knee, staring up at you with big brown eyes that could put an actual puppy to shame.

“I can’t,” you insisted, the sternness of your voice sabotaged by the smile creeping on your lips. “Not tonight.”

The larger ceta snorted through his nostrils and turned away. You thought he was going to ignore you and pout, but instead he dived beneath the surface and—

You yelped and covered your head with your hands as his large black and white tail slapped against the surface, covering you in an impressive wave of cold water.

“Oh, you asshole!” you choked out as you wiped the water from your eyes. Connor was making a rapid-fire clicking noise that sounded suspiciously like laughter. You sent him a narrowed glare and his lips widened into a toothy grin.

“Don’t encourage him,” you said, pointing a figure at Connor. The smaller ceta simply tilted his head as if he had no idea what on earth you were talking about and he’d never done anything wrong in his life.

You really were spending too much time with them. It was a bad habit of yours, seeing things that couldn’t possibly be there. Little looks and gestures that seemed to mean something more, and you constantly had to remind yourself it was all wishful thinking and loneliness.

Huffing and rolling your eyes, you pulled your legs out of the water and rose to your feet. You needed to put a stop to this and start spending time with other people, even if you would rather be here than anywhere else in the world.

Connor made a small, pathetic chirp as he swam to the edge of the water. He grabbed the ledge and stared up at you, and you could have sworn there was sadness there. Even the armband around his right bicep, normally glowing blue, brightened to a bright yellow, reflecting his increase in heart rate and blood pressure.

Goddammit.

“Okay. Okay. You two are gonna get me fired, you know that?” Your protested sounded weak to your own ears, but it was all worth it to see Connor’s ears perk up and his armband return to a soothing blue.

Even Nines had come back, waiting along the edge of the research pool with Connor, staring up at you expectantly. His armband had never changed from its blue color, but that was just how he was. Somehow, he’d learned how to keep his vital signs calm and cool, even when he was seconds away from trying to take off someone’s fingers.

The techs blamed faulty equipment even though they’d never found anything wrong with the armband. You knew better; Nines had learned the humans used the armbands as a gauge to predict their moods, and Nines had outsmarted them. And would continue to outsmart them, because you seemed to be the only person who realized what he was up to.

Sometimes, like right now, as he was leveling his unblinking, heavy gaze at you while you got undressed, made you wonder just how smart he was. Even now, his grey eyes were too aware, and you had to turn away as you tugged off your clothing.

You wore a bathing suit underneath, a two-piece consisting of boy shorts and a halter top. It was convenient in that it acted like underwear under your clothing, and let you slip into the pool at the end of your shift to swim with the twin brothers.

The swimsuit also had the benefit of being kind of sexy. Not that you were trying to impress anyone. It was sad enough the brothers were the closest things you had to friends.

You sat down at the edge of the water and turned around, resting the ledge against your stomach so you could slip down into the water more easily.

A pair of arms grabbed you from behind immediately, pulling you down into the water.

You gave a startled yelp, sputtered as salt water entered your mouth, and spit it out with an annoyed growl. The arms didn’t let you go, and instead pull you back against a warm chest as he swam backwards along the surface of the water.

Usually Connor gave you a little more time to adjust before grabbing you and swimming around like a seal with its favorite toy.

Normally you tolerated it, but you couldn’t stay as long as you usually did, and you wanted to actually get some swimming done to try and ease the pain in your leg joints and soothe the rigid calf muscles.

“Okay, Connor, that’s enough.”

A frantic chirp came from the left from a few feet away. You opened your eyes, startled to find Connor following after you.

You tensed, heart hammering as your limbs went rigid, and the ceta carrying you along slowed to a stop. He didn’t release his hold and you looked down to see the arms were slightly bigger than they should have been.

Oh, fuck, was your first thought.

He’s going to eat me, was your second.

You took a breath and tried to hold your voice steady. “Nines. I need you to let me go.”

You remained firmly within his embrace. If anything, he slightly tightened his grip.

He’s is definitely going to fucking eat me.

“Nines, let me go.”

The fear was definitely clear in your voice now. He must have heard it. You were so screwed. It was the only thing your brain would repeat, even though human deaths by cetas were rare these days. They still happened, though, and the corded muscles holding you still could easily tear you limb from limb.

Connor moved closer, head tilted in curiosity, but worse, his armband was glowing yellow again.

Blue, go through.

Yellow, not mellow.

Red, you’re dead.

The motto the technicians lived by. You were pretty sure you were dead anyway, even without the color codes. You glanced down at Nines’ armband and it was yellow too.

Not good.

Connor chirped sharply at his brother. Nines returned the sound with a lower, deeper growl. The monkey part of your brain told you a shark was about to sink its rows of teeth around your neck.

Connor released another series of noises, complex chirps and clicks you’d never heard before, and could have sworn… they were talking. Sure, cetas communicated with each other, but they didn’t have a language. They didn’t—

Connor moved forward and Nines moved back in equal measure. You could feel the bend of his tail against your legs, long and powerful, and the monkey part of your brain shrieked in fear again.

It was nothing compared to the terror when Nines took you away from Connor and picked up speed. You knew he was going to pull you under the water, drown you, probably not even doing it on purpose.

Tears pricked your eyes as your heart thudded in your chest. This was it. They were going to find you at the bottom of the pool the next morning, drowned and partially eaten.

Would anyone even care?

“Nines, stop!”

Your mouth hung open, your brain unable to process. You hadn’t shouted the words.

Nines came to an immediate standstill. Connor swam forward, brows furrowed sharply as his eyes darted between you and his brother.

“You’re scaring her.”

The words were soft, gentle, and impossibly coming from Connor’s mouth.

“Unfortunate,” a voice said, directly next to your ear. A voice that sounded almost identical to Connor’s. “But unavoidable.”

A hand clamped down over your mouth when you tried to scream, but the fight was already going out of you as an intense dizziness hit, leaving you woozy and weak. This couldn’t be happening.

They were talking.

Next Chapter

#detroit: become human #detroit become human #mermay #mermaid au #merman!connor #merman!nines #connor x reader #rk800 x reader #nines x reader #rk900 x reader #connor x reader x nines #rk1700 #rk1700 x reader #my writing #my fanfiction

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brynwrites · 4 years

Text

How to Write Non-binary Characters: Part III.

Visit PART ONE: the basics.

Visit PART TWO: the nitty gritty.

PART THREE: common pitfalls and easy fixes.

Here we'll cover some common situations where writing respectful non-binary characters can be trickier.

Writing Non-human Non-binary characters.

Non-human non-binary characters aren’t inherently disrespectful to non-binary people, but it can easily become negative representation when there are no non-binary humans present, because it implies that those with non-binary genders are less human (and usually more monstrous or more alien) than people with binary genders. You can read more about why this is a problem in this full analysis by Christine Prevas.

There's a very simple solution to this though: Write some non-binary humans. (Or, in the least, make it explicitly clear that non-binary humans exist, and are just as valid in their identity as anyone else.)

Writing Non-binary Villains.

This situation is very similar to the non-binary non-humans, but instead of implying that non-binary people are less human, it implies they are less moral, abnormal, depraved, or insane. Villainous figures in history have often have their villainy connected to or blamed on their non-gender conforming traits. We don't want to add to that clinging transphobic and homophobic belief with modern fiction.

As with non-binary non-humans, having non-villainous non-binary characters can go a long way in offsetting this, as well as not connecting (or letting characters within the world connnect) the villain's non-binary aspects with their perceived villainy. Instead of writing a non-binary villain, write a villain who also happens to be non-binary.

(On this note, I would be very cautious about writing villains who are being villainous because they've suffered from transphobia.)

Killing (your only) Non-binary Character.

This falls into the same category as the previous two sections, but it has just one solution: don't kill your story’s only non-binary or trans character. Just don't do it. If that character has to die to make the plot continue, let there be another primary non-binary or trans character in the story somewhere.

Writing “Coming Out” Scenes for Non-binary Characters.

Let's break this into two different types of coming out:

The casual, everyday coming out. This is the kind of coming out a non-binary person has to do every time they need to let new people in their lives know about their gender. If you're writing non-binary characters, you'll probably have to write some version of this at some point. It can be as simple as a character introducing themselves with their pronouns, wearing clothing or pins that say their pronouns, mentioning their identity casually, correcting someone's misuse of their pronouns, making a (respectful) joke involving gendered terminology (e.g. "I'm the king of monopoly today and the queen of monopoly tomorrow, but either way you're all going to lose!"), or a multitude of other ways.

While writing any setting that you create yourself (whether that's fantasy, science fiction, alternate history, etc), you can always do yourself a favor and work a method of identity presentation into the world building. Maybe in your fictional culture everyone wears a certain color accessory for certain gender identities or in your fictional boarding school the students all decided to introduce themselves with their pronouns no matter what gender they identity as.

The major, terrifying coming out. Often, this is the traditional coming out scene where the person sits down with family and tells their truth, even though they know things might turn out poorly. It might be the first time they've come out to anyone, or it might be that they've held off with certain important people in their life because they're afraid of those people's response. Be wary of writing out these scenes if you haven't lived through them yourself, because it's a very emotional and complex situation which, if represented poorly, can harm non-binary and trans people in real life. Sometimes though, you might want to allude to what happened during this scene because of its effect on the character!

Keep in mind that while there is much prejudice against non-binary (and trans) people in our world, that you don't have to include that in your stories. It is always the writer's decision to include transphobia and transphobic characters in what they write, as well as their responsibility to make sure that any transphobic inclusions are framed as the terrible, incorrect biases they are, and do not harm the trans and non-binary community.

Writing Non-binary Characters Discovering They’re Non-binary.

Realizing you're non-binary is often a long, emotional, and extremely personal experience. Unless you have a non-binary (or trans) co-writer or you've done an academic level of research, its best to leave these experiences to be written by the people you lived them, because there are many living people who have lived them, who will be effected by these stories on a very real, very personal level.

So, go write non-binary characters, but write them having adventures and falling in love instead.

Writing Societies Without Gender Binaries.

Because this is a huge topic where new pitfalls might appear at any moment do to the endless ways it can be used, the best thing to do if you're interested in writing it is to read speculative fiction from trans and non-binary authors and study the nuances of how they portray these societies, and, of course, always avoid the societal version of all the previous no-nos, like having only villainous or non-human non-binary societies.

Remember: when in doubt, get non-binary people to beta read your work.

Finally, here are two insanely easy ways to include non-binary representation in all your stories:

1. Give a character (or multiple characters!) they/them pronouns.

You don’t have to explain this. The character never needs to come out as non-binary. There doesn’t have to be a focus on whether they’re androgynous or not. You can keep it so simple that their description is just “Parker had brown hair and a hooked nose and when they smiled their eyes lit up,” and there you have a non-binary-coded character without having to do any work or research at all.

2. Have a character refer to their family member with gender neutral terms.

“Those are my sisters, my big brother, and my little sibling. We were on a skiing trip, but our step-parent came down with the flu so our father stayed back at the lodge and let our auntcle take us up the mountain.” Will any of these non-binary characters ever by in the story itself? Perhaps not. But it still shows that the author accepts the existence of non-binary people in their story’s world, and that the character speaking loves and respects the non-binary people in their family enough to refer to them in the ways those family members prefer.

Closing Words.

Non-binary people have had a long history of being ignored in Western stories. Having writers attempt to include respectful non-binary representation in their books is more important to us than having all that representation be perfect. So, write non-binary characters, find a few non-binary or trans readers to double check your work, and most importantly, and have fun.

While you’re at it, consider supporting non-binary writers writing ownvoices stories. If you don’t know of any, here’s the wikipedia list of the more famous authors and a little twitter thread with some lesser known voices. You can also purchase my debut novel, Our Bloody Pearl, a fun romp about a disabled, non-binary siren and a freckly pirate captain.

Stick around for a preview of Our Bloody Pearl....

SWELL BEGINNINGS

There is one thing I know for certain: We were right to hate the humans.

HUNGER HAUNTS ME like a bull shark. With every roll of the ship, the gunk inside my stagnant tub sloshes against my waist, stinging anew. The tight wooden room's stale air burns my lungs.

Steam whistles in the pipes that run along the walls, their copper gleaming in the dim ceiling light. My wrists throb where the metal cuffs locking me to the tub dig into my silver scales. The gill slits along my neck are clamped shut after a year without seawater and my head fins stick to my scalp like barnacles to rock.

I try to anchor myself with the memory of home, of fine sands and vibrant reefs, but I can barely recall the rush of the warm current or the thrill of the hunt. Even a single wrasse sounds like a feast now. Or a few human fingers.

At least I can still smell the sharp brine of the ocean. When the ship rocks, the small, circular window to my left reveals the sea rolling in an endless stretch of deep blue, begging me to return. The silhouette of an approaching vessel forms a blur on its horizon.

I squint at the hazy shape, but Captain Kian’s roar of irritation from an upper deck makes me recoil. My captor’s harsh voice is so loud it seems to shudder its way down my spine.

The new vessel leaves my sight as the ship I’m captive on—the Oyster—turns toward it. The steam stacks clatter to life somewhere beneath me. Fabric and metal wings stretch out from the sides of the Oyster, and the ship bursts forward, riding just above the crests of the waves.

The sudden change in speed shoves me backward, tossing up my putrid water. As the liquid recoils, it grazes my largest tail fin, lying limp over the far edge of the tub. For all the pain I suffer, I nearly forget my tail exists, its iridescent gleam washed away by the filth and grime of the tub. It must still be impaired from the massive, anchor-like weight my captor crushed it beneath when she first locked me here. I can’t bring myself to focus on its lifeless form for long. I wasn’t meant for this.

I need the sea.

Purchase the full novel on amazon, bookdepository, or kobo, or request it from your local library!

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #authors on tumblr #writing help #writing advice #writing resources #writing tips #writers on writing #amwriting #creative writing

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zrtranscripts · 3 years

Text

Season 9, Mission 5: Sandstorm

Summer Holiday

[ship horn honks, waves crash on shore]

PETER LYNNE: Listen, all I'm saying is he could have dropped us off a little bit nearer.

JANINE DE LUCA: Our captain was clear from the outset, Peter. Our information on Tunisia is limited. He did not wish to deliver us to a port which might present unknown dangers. Or docking fees. Hence the empty stretch of coast we've landed on.

SAM YAO: Oh, it's nice though, isn't it? The sandy cliffs, the crystal blue sea, the rocky beach. Way better than that tiny ship's hold. Not that I didn't enjoy helping Janine tick “win 1,000 consecutive games of chess” off her bucket list. Oh, oh hey, careful how you carry the briefcase, Five. Remember, it's got Veronica inside. [shouts] You okay in there, Veronica?

VERONICA MCSHELL: Sam, for the last time, this case contains hardware running a full copy of my personality connected to a full suite of sensor systems, including auditory. You do not need to shout. Janine, Amelia gave me a message to play upon our arrival in Tunisia. Stand by.

AMELIA SPENS: Hello, Tunisia team. Let's make this super clear: you are not over there sightseeing. You're infiltrating a secret base codenamed Red Scorpion at the behest of General Bakari. He's directed you to a city near Red Scorpion called New Agadir. Until you reach New Agadir, where you must impersonate the mercenary group Death's Hand, you should pretend to be independent UK traders.

This is a covert mission, so if things go badly, I can't help you. Remember, the red fungus endangers the whole world. If it's in Red Scorpion, we need to know. Don't mess this up. Amelia out.

PETER LYNNE: Right, right, right. So just-just to make sure I've got this right, we're in another country with no support and we left our only doctor on the boat. Fantastic!

VERONICA MCSHELL: It's fortunate Maxine was present to identify the measles outbreak on the ship. If we hadn't left her to take care of it, it might have become a pandemic, Maintaining herd immunity via vaccination has proven almost impossible since the apocalypse.

JANINE DE LUCA: I see a road atop the hill heading west. Miss Spens’ preliminary scouting identified settlements on the Tunisian coast. That road leads to an outpost called Kalaat El-Amal. From there, we can arrange transport south towards New Agadir. Miss Spens also provided me details of a contact she's established in New Agadir who can assist us, a man by the name of Mohammed Boujettif. We must find him there.

Aside from anything else, we may need him to take Dr. Myers’s place in Death's Hand, although if he has no medical experience, that could prove difficult. The alias of the team member Dr. Myers was to impersonate is Doctor Death.

International subterfuge... it has been some time. Remember people, we do not know how the apocalypse landed here or what dangers await. Watch out for each other and keep your wits. Up the hill to the road, run!

SAM YAO: Oh, I thought the going would get easier once we reached the top of the hill, but now the road's covered in sand!

PETER LYNNE: Well, there's not much to stop it blowing in from the desert. As far as local scenery goes, you've got potholed roads and sand dunes and that's basically all you're going to get.

SAM YAO: So I get that we're pretending to be traders for now, then when we reach New Agadir we'll be impersonating Death's Hand, but what do we do if the actual Death’s Hand show up? I mean, my briefing said my cover is someone called Sven “Psycho” Mountback, who I don't exactly want to meet.

PETER LYNNE: Well, Amelia is recruiting the mercenaries now for a job in the UK. That's a trap that'll keep them out of our way. And they mostly work in the shadows, so their faces aren't well-known. So in theory at least, we should be able to pass for them. And Bakari swears he can get them - by which I mean us - onto the base.

JANINE DE LUCA: Gamma 1 insertion protocols, as Tom would have said.

FRANCES DEMPSEY: (in the distance) Guys, it's me!

SAM YAO: Does anyone hear that? Look, behind us. There's someone coming up the road dressed like a deckhand from the ship, waving.

FRANCES DEMPSEY: Guys, it's Frances!

PETER LYNNE: Oh, you've got to be kidding me!

JANINE DE LUCA: Miss Dempsey, what are you doing here?

FRANCES DEMPSEY: I, uh, stowed away on the ship. Hid in a storage crate, swam to shore when I'd heard you'd landed. Bribed a sailor to tell me when you did. A bit wet from the swim. I know you didn't want me to come, but I swear I'll be useful.

JANINE DE LUCA: Miss Dempsey, this is unacceptable! You were expressly forbidden...

SAM YAO: Uh, Janine? Usually you don't drift off when you're berating people.

JANINE DE LUCA: The sky, it's turned white. Winds are rising. If my memories of Algeria hold true, this indicates an incoming dust storm. We must get to cover quickly.

FRANCES DEMPSEY: Does that mean I can come?

JANINE DE LUCA: It means, Miss Dempsey, that since there is no way to get you back to the UK, you are unfortunately in danger with the rest of us. There, gleaming structures on the horizon. Kalaat El-Amal. All of you, in that direction. Run!

[wind blows]

SAM YAO: The outpost is ahead. Yeah, I think I see an outer wall. It's hard to make out in this sand. [spits] It really gets in your teeth, doesn't it, Five?

VERONICA MCSHELL: Changing global weather patterns, likely brought on by a large increase in methane emissions from decaying flesh, have left this region more prone to dust storms. My sensors should have alerted us to the stormfront. And I failed to predict Frances's arrival.

FRANCES DEMPSEY: Um, quick question. Why is the suitcase talking?

PETER LYNNE: That's our... computer expert, Veronica. She's our expert... who is also a computer.

SAM YAO: Guys, look behind you. There's-there's like a solid wall of sand looping towards us.

JANINE DE LUCA: We're on the storm's periphery, but the eye is approaching fast and the dust already feels cutting in these winds. Everybody switch to comms, cover your mouths. You should have desert goggles and masks in your packs. Miss Dempsey, take mine. I will use my shirt.

PETER LYNNE: Wait, wait, wait. Janine, that's ridiculous. She can have my mask.

JANINE DE LUCA: It is done, Peter, there is no time to argue. I see no rocks large enough for shelter. Our only hope is reaching Kalaat El-Amal before we're subsumed. Run!

[wind whistles]

FRANCES DEMSPEY: God, it's like being in a blender full of dust! Getting hard to balance in the wind. Five, grab my arm so we don't get separated.

JANINE DE LUCA: I do not see the road! Does anyone have a visual?

VERONICA MCSHELL: Janine, I have run estimates on the wind speed and density of the storm. There is less than a 3% chance of our surviving.

PETER LYNNE: Oh, fantastic! Thank you, Veronica. Helpful as always.

VERONICA MCSHELL: If I'd warned you of the storm sooner, you might have been able to shelter near the cliffs. I'm sorry.

PETER LYNNE: Janine, not to seem overprotective, but obviously you should take my mask. I'm literally indestructible!

JANINE DE LUCA: You have an anti-P-type bomb in your body, Peter. Inhaling sand might damage it. We cannot risk that. I appreciate you're afraid of losing me after the Hebrides. I let you join this mission because I trust you, but I'm as worried for you as you are for me. Do not disobey my orders!

[zombie shrieks]

SAM YAO: What was that?

PETER LYNNE: Look, those are human shapes being whirled about in the wall of sand behind us. Some are missing limbs or torn in half. They're all thrashing about. Yep, they're zombies.

JANINE DE LUCA: We cannot let them catch us. We have no idea if the zombie virus has variants here. Even if we survive the storm with our cure stocks intact, they might not be effective. Likewise Mr. Yao's immunity. We can't let them catch us. Go!

[wind whistles]

SAM YAO: Five! Five, is that you? If you can see me, I'm waving.

FRANCES DEMSPEY: Sam, we see you! Five and I are to your left. Keep moving through the dust.

SAM YAO: Oh, thank God. I can barely make out your outlines. I was worried you were zoms. Have you seen the others? We were trying to keep hold of each other, but the winds kept knocking us down. Storm's interfering with comms beyond point blank range.

FRANCES DEMSPEY: Everyone's been scattered, visibility's practically zero.

VERONICA MCSHELL: I'm trying to calculate everyone's probable vectors, but there are too many variables. At home, I would have more processing power, but this portable me can only handle so much.

During our voyage, I heard Peter talk about Frances's desire to join the mission, but my limited resources did not allow me to model her probable behavior. I was also unable to perceive the worsening weather because my capacity was devoted to reviewing mission files. My limitations have undermined my usefulness.

FRANCES DEMPSEY: Not as much as this sand will if any of it gets in your circuits. We've got to get you inside, Veronica. Janine shouldn't have given me her mask. What if she chokes? She's the most important person to the mission.

SAM YAO: Don't think like that, Frances. We just got here. We're not losing people already, not like the Hebrides. I promised Sara we'd come home safe, that we'd bring her fun travel stories.

JANINE DE LUCA: [static] Repeat. [garbled audio] Repeat.

SAM YAO: Janine!

VERONICA MCSHELL: I am detecting faint electromagnetic activity. It may be the outpost.

[zombie growls]

FRANCES DEMPSEY: Sam, behind you!

SAM YAO: Oh God, that whirling wall of zoms is almost on us. Five, speed up! They're just gristle and bone, the flesh is torn right off them. The wind’s tossing zoms straight at us. Run, everyone! Head south... gah! That way, I think. Just run!

[wind whistles]

SAM YAO: That's it, Five, keep holding my hand. I've got Frances, we're in a chain.

[zombies growl]

FRANCES DEMPSEY: Everybody duck! Oh God, did you see that? A flayed zombie torso, ripped to shreds by the sand. It flew right over our heads in the wind. I'm sorry, Sam, I shouldn't have come.

SAM YAO: Frances, it's okay.

FRANCES DEMPSEY: Peter warned me it was dangerous. I just, I really thought I could help. But I know you're all scared of losing people after the Hebrides, but you're all at risk here and I'm making it worse.

JANINE DE LUCA: Mr. Yao, Runner Five, this is Colonel De Luca. Mr. Lynne and I have made it into Kalaat El-Amal. Can you hear? They have equipment monitoring your approach. They're boosting our comms. They're sealing the entrance against the weather and activating a signal beacon on the outer wall.

SAM YAO: There! Hard to tell in this suit, but those look like... yes, flashing yellow lights ahead.

JANINE DE LUCA: The gate is in front of you, but it is closing fast. If you don't hurry, you'll be trapped outside. Sensors indicate torn zombie flesh has made that swirling storm wall infectious. You cannot risk being engulfed. You must get inside. Run!

[alarm blares, gate creaks and slams shut]

SAM YAO: That's it, Five, we're in. Made it through that gate by inches. Don't see anyone around, just a big metal room with big metal doors. Gate must be automatic. First bit of wider world we've seen since Z-Day, Five, give or take Finland. I wonder how people here are doing.

FRANCES DEMPSEY: Guess we're about to find out. We're okay, everyone's okay. We all made it.

VERONICA MCSHELL: And my estimations of Kalaat El-Amal's location were accurate. It will take me time to get used to operating at this capacity, but I will persevere. I am confident I can keep the team safe. After analyzing the Hebrides files, I know how much difficulty you all have without me.

[door rattles open]

SAM YAO: Janine, Peter!

JANINE DE LUCA: It's good to see you all intact, including you, Miss Dempsey. It seems you've left me no choice now but to consider you one of the team. The locals were rather shocked to see us approaching through the storm.

SAM YAO: But they let you in, so they're friendly, right?

PETER LYNNE: Oh, they are very friendly, and very worried. You see, apparently the last few foreign traders to visit Kalaat El-Amal carried serious diseases. Measles, flu, multiple poxes. So they're putting us under quarantine until we're vetted, for a period of no less than three months. That means if we can't find another way out of here, the whole mission is over.

#zombies run #zrs9 #s9m5 #zr transcript #zrs9 spoilers

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