#23 pages in 2 days my shoulders are dead
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/ Orv novel main story + epilogue spoilers
!! Please do NOT reupload my comics / works anywhere !!
"Did you know, Dokja-ssi?" - A Jung Heewon comic about platonic love
!! Please do NOT reupload my comics / works anywhere !!
(cont below)
Thank you @princess-of-purple-prose for the ID (available in ALT text). ID was rephrased here and there according to what the panels are meant to show
#orv spoilers#orv#omniscient reader fanart#omniscient readers viewpoint#orv fanart#omniscient reader#kim dokja#kdj#jung heewon#jhw#kimcom#kdjc#23 pages in 2 days my shoulders are dead#crit's art: orv#@princess-of-purple-prose youre insane#i was going to alt text this someday but i forgot and then i open tags and see a huge wall of text im#kudos to you genuinely
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Day 233 - 2/21/23
me
took a small art break because work has been crazy busy with not enough staff and long hours and the only time i'd be able to draw is if i sacrificed sleep 😓
one more long shift (shorter than the last few days but still) and then I have a couple of commissions i will do
currently i'm dead on my feet and my back and shoulders are killing me so i'm just going to take it easy until i'm done work tomorrow
Please check out my Ko-fi page if you want to support me!
Art Streak Broken 😅
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10/01/23 2:46 am
A quiet night. A nice enough day.
I feel the loneliness. It breaks my heart daily, but I try not to let it overshadow every beautiful thing that my world is blessed with.
My girls fall asleep nightly without me being able to kiss them goodnight. I miss them. I try to see them so often. I make so many plans with them. I’ll drain my bank account to do things with them. I don’t like bringing them here. This isn’t home. We can’t be who we are here.
I’d never go back, but sometimes I wonder if I could have just toughed it out. Just faked my way through, been miserable with him just to be able to be with them.
He sent me a letter. I’ve been discouraged from texting, calling; emails are rarely responded to and have dissipated on my end, but he has the audacity to send me 7 pages, written in front and back. Basically, it was a checklist of every red flag I ever flew, every mistake I ever made in his eyes, all the things he dislikes about me but if I wanted to come back, he’d happily welcome me back.
“But you’d really have to try this time.”
15 years. For 15 years, I gave everything I had and a lot that I didn’t have just to keep him and make him happy. I stayed through cheating, through physical abuse, mental abuse, lies, extreme lies. And for what? Falsities. Everything was a big shimmering joke, and rarely was it all that shimmering.
He threw the abortion in my face, like I did it *to him*. “My dream was to have a boy. I would have had 10 girls before I had my boy. We had all the help in the world, but you were too selfish to give me my dream.” … my life was about nothing but his dreams. Every dead end idea he had, I followed without question. Every lie he had to tell, I told it too. Every mistake he made, I accepted it. Every thing he wanted, he got. But the one thing I couldn’t give him was a boy.
I was miserable pregnant. I did it twice. Twice in one year, I gave him two beautiful babies. The following year, I was ready to give him another one. Chasing a 2 year old, a one year old and puking my guts out from the moment I woke up until I managed to fall asleep … it doesn’t make for a great sex life. So, since I couldn’t give him absolutely everything his greedy, spiteful ass wanted, he went and found it somewhere else. Treated me like trash, like I was so easily replaceable … because that’s how he thinks, everything can be replaced … brought her into our home, into our bed, took her out, sent her flowers, met her family … and I knew everything. I knew. I KNEW. It was never something he tried to hide.
So … why would I bless that with offspring? I figured … if he left, I couldn’t raise 3 kids by myself. And if he stayed, we obviously weren’t in a place to have more. I was also losing weight, stressed out beyond anything I’d ever felt … so, I made the appointment. December 11th. It hits me like a ton of bricks every year.
The night before, I spent with my biological family, because they were close to the clinic. They didn’t know. When they asked what he was up to that night, I laughed and told the truth. “He’s out on a date.” The next morning, I drove myself to the clinic. I parked in the lot next door to avoid the crowd of protesters 10 feet from the front door. I went in, paid my $700, and then extra for extra anesthesia. I took two pills - a painkiller, and something to soften my cervix.
“Once you take these, there’s no going back.”
Pushed into a room with countless other girls, all attired in oddly patterned hospital gowns. The Proposal was playing on the TV. I used to love that movie. Shoulder to shoulder in a crowded room I’d compare to a corral of cattle. You could hear the protesters outside. “You’re killing an innocent baby!” “Murderers!” “You can still change your mind!” You could hear women screaming in pain, and a nervous looking doctor stuck his head into the waiting room to alleviate anyone’s worry; “She’s in more pain because she’s never had a vaginal birth before. That’s all.”
When it was my turn, a nurse took me in a room to conduct an ultrasound. “How far along do you think you are?” “15 weeks.” As she checks, I refuse to look. “Wow; 15 weeks exactly.” I know. I’m ushered into the next room. Everything looks so terrifying. Feet in the stirrups, a mask over my face expelling gas into my lungs. I doubt it did anything for me. I feel pressure, pulling and tugging. It’s painful and there’s no one here to hold my hand.
Once it’s over, they stand me up and take me to recovery, where once again, I’m surrounded with other women. They bring us snacks and juice, sit us in big recliners and tell us to “Take your time.” I don’t know how long I sat there. I remember tying my shoes up and standing for the first time. I feel physically empty. Like my hips are too far apart, like if I fall, I’d shatter. I drive myself all the way home, and no one is there.
Later, he comes in the house with countless shopping bags and fills the kitchen table with them. “I got a bonus at work!” Another lie. He is sleeping with the girl who does our taxes, he got them back and doesn’t want to tell me. I don’t bother arguing. I can’t remember if he even asks how I’m feeling, still hollow. I do remember begging him to stop seeing her. His hands are on the arm of my chair and he’s leaning down to my face. I’m grabbing the edges of his hoodie and begging him to just stop. He tells me “No” and to let go of him.
Later that night, he’s probably out with her again. I have to use the bathroom and my entire body hurts and feels like a cavern. I went to wipe myself and I promise you, I fucking promise you, the tiniest little hand is on the tissue. A hand. If that wasn’t what it was, that’s exactly what it looked like. I just sat there and stared at it for the longest time.
4 days later, he moved out, but he’d end up coming back. Several times in between, I gave him the sex he wanted so fucking bad. I finally gave him the exact kind of sex he wanted and I hated every fucking second of it. A month later, he came back and we acted like nothing ever happened.
His letter said “I don’t get hung up on trivial, little things.”
I had two more abortions in the next few years. Why I didn’t just get on birth control, I don’t remember. I wish I had. But in the end, I’m glad I never gave him anymore children. He doesn’t know how to love them, how to listen or understand them.
I hope his bloodline dies with him. How’s that for selfishness?
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My Smart Girl☁️
Pairing= Professor! Tom Hiddleston x Student! Reader
*Tom is 31, the reader is 23*
Word count= 953
Summary: Y/n is losing motivation, but Tom won’t let that slide, never
Requests are open!
Likes, Re-blogs and Comments are appreciated♥️
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·. .·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·. .·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·. .·:*¨༺ ༻¨
(Y/n’s P.O.V)
My head was absolutely aching, I was sitting on some cushions on the floor, currently in the middle of creating notes from a lecture I had attended earlier on in the day. It’s now 1am.
My eyes were dropping, the only thing living in my head was the idea of a nice warm bed. Sometimes I did question why on Earth I studied English Literature at university.
But how can I regret that, when it has led me to meeting the love of my life.
Tom Hiddleston
No he was not another student, he was and is my current professor. Usually when I tell people this, they tend to question the age gap but it’s honestly not that bad, it’s a good 8 years.
It all started when he came in one day to substitute our professor who was off quarantining, and a day slowly changed to months to 2 years.
How could I not fall in love with him? He’s drop dead gorgeous, intelligent and a gentleman. Tom may as well have come out of a romance book himself with the way he is.
Our families are incredibly supportive, however I didn’t exactly want to tell people in my class because next thing you know it’s all about favouritism when it isn’t. Sure sometimes he winks at me in class secretly or touches my hand when he is giving out papers, but that’s about it.
Anyways, trying to construct notes after a long day is not exactly the easiest thing, my motivation is at an all time low and all I want is my boyfriend.
“Love? Why are you still up?” I heard a groggy voice say coming out of the bedroom switching the living room lights on.
“I’m doing work for YOUR class i’ll have you know” I said cheekily putting my cheek to my page, looking at him blankly.
“This is why I said, you should make your notes in class, you can’t be overworking yourself like this darling” Tom said crouching down to my level combing his hands through my hair.
“Yeah yeah, I know, the English language is just so hard babe” I said feeling myself dropping off to sleep little by little.
“Y/n your first language is literally English, it’s not the end of the world”
“Shut up Tom, you’re not helping your poor girlfriend whatsoever” I said now with my face in the page.
I heard no reply and instead felt the cushion sitting behind my back being pulled away and being replaced with Tom?
I now sat between his legs as his arms encircled my waist, his head laying on my shoulder as he overlooked my work, his breathing fanning my neck only lulling me more into a deep trance.
“Okay love, I know it’s hard to find motivation especially during a global pandemic. No, I don’t know what you’re going through, but I want to help you. I know i’m supposed to treat you like every other student, but I can’t just sit here and watch you drown yourself in work constantly. So i’m going to cuddle you while helping you annotate your notes okay? Then we are going to bed in half an hour, work done or not. Your health is important to me, never mind the work due for me.”
“Tom are you sure you’re not from a book, because how on Earth did I find someone like you” I said slightly more awake leaning back against his chest, with him nuzzling his face into my neck and hair as he took my hands and placed a pen in them.
“Less talking, more writing babe”
“Ok Ok i’m going”
[10 minutes later]
“Toooommm”
“Y/nnnnn”
“Can I stop now? I can’t be bothered anymore babe” I said tilting my head slightly to the side so I could see him in my peripheral vision.
“Nope. How about this, each time you write a sentence i’ll give you kiss? Is that sufficient”
“YES, yes that is very much sufficient” I said picking my pen back up and continuing to now annotate a play, with Tom occasionally giving me pointers and tips.
[20 Minutes Later]
“Ok i’m done, I-I think” I say my head going fuzzy, only wanting sleep and cuddles.
“Well done, i’m so proud of my smart girl, I knew you could do it” Tom said looking at me, both of our lips clearly swollen from the amount of kisses he gave me while I was writing. Guess writing all those sentences was pretty worth it.
Tom’s hands reached over and closed my laptop and notebook, he stood up first then proceeded to crouch down and pick me up. One arm under my legs and one under my back, my arms wrapped around his neck with my head directly listening to his calming heartbeat.
Next thing I know, I was placed onto our bed, the fluffy blanket drowning me in comfort.
“Alright don’t get too comfy without me beautiful, I don’t want to miss out on my cuddles”
“Mhm” I hummed half asleep, only feeling Tom’s hands come from behind and pull me back flush against his bare chest. His chin on the top of my head as he spooned me, his left arm rubbing up and down my arm, he always knew how to get me to sleep. He continued to place soft tiny kisses on my nape, so light you could hardly feel them but the love was clearly there.
“I love you so much Y/n, i’ll always be here for you”
“I love you too Tommy” I said reaching my hand back and running my hand through his hair once. Before retreating back into his chest, my safe space.
#tom hiddleston#tom hiddelston imagine#tom hiddleston imagine#tom hiddleston fanfiction#tom hiddelston x reader#girlfriend#x reader#boyfriend imagine#fluff#boyfriend#imagine#writerscorner#marvel#loki#oneshot#romance
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Can I request some Dream with y11, a8 and a10...?
Author's note- This was based on a dream I had with yandere dream, and as always, sleepy bois inc family is canon in this story, and Y/N is the second youngest, older than Tommy but younger than the twins Techno and Wilbur. Also, Mumza is in here, I don't see her in a lot of fanfics that included the SBI family dynamic.
Author's note 2- The first half of this fic is mainly SBI fluff, then the rest will be Dream x Reader
Author's note- this isn't the best but I tried, wasn't in the best mind space when I wrote this.
Warnings- Implied Abuse, Kidnapping, Gaslighting (?)
Yandere Dream x Reader
Y/N banged on Techno's door, their legs being close to giving up due to exhaustion. Techno yawned as his walked towards the door with an axe in hand, his hair covering most of his face, it was around 2 AM when Y/N knocked on his door. Techno opened the door and saw Y/N looking at him with despair, wearing nothing but a T-shirt that wasn't their's, and they had a black eye.
"Y/N?" Techno asked, since he hasn't seen his little sibling in years.
"Techno... Let me in, please..." Y/N said, barely being able to speak before they collapsed, and everything going black.
The next morning...
Y/N woke up in their old bedroom, the entire room looking like it hasn't been touched in years. Touching their face, they felt bandages covering their left eye. Tommy walked into the room holding a plate of pancakes and bacon. Looking up, Tommy almost dropped it the moment he saw Y/N.
"Y-Y/N..." Tommy said.
"Hey Tommy..." Y/N said, giving him a sad smile.
Tommy ran toward Y/N and knocked them over, hugging them as he cried.
"We thought you were dead! After you didn't show up after you went hunting, we looked every where and we couldn't find you. I thought you..."
Y/N hugged Tommy back and rubbed his back. Tommy pulled back and rubbed his tears away.
"Where were you?"
Y/N looked at the ground and shook their head, implying they didn't want to talk about it. Tommy just nodded before standing up.
"Come down stairs once your done," Tommy said, before closing the door.
Y/N picked up their plate, looking down at it, waiting for something to happen. The words that Dream said kept replaying in their head.
"Ugh, you're getting fat again, you know what, no food for the next 2 weeks, got it?"
Y/N hands shook as they backed away from the food. Y/N gripped Dream's shirt as they held back tears. Y/N just grabbed a piece of bacon and ate it with their eyes closed. When they realised how good it was, they ate more and more until their plate was clean.
Y/N got up and walked down stairs, Wilbur lying down on the couch while he listened to Tommy rant about Ranboo and Tubbo, Techno was no where to be seen, and Phil was doing the dishes in another room. Wilbur glanced at you before walking up to you and hugging you.
"I thought Techno was fucking with me when he told me you were back, but you really are!"
"Heh, yeah," Y/N said, hugging Wilbur back.
"Where's Dadza?" (They call Phil Dadza instead of dad)
"In the kitchen," Tommy said, taking Wilbur's spot on the couch.
Y/N left as Wilbur began pulling Tommy off the couch.
"HEY STOP IT MAN!"
"GET OFF THE FUCKING COUCH TOMMY!"
Y/N giggled as they entered the kitchen, chat was annoying Phil as he did the dishes. Phil saw the crows fly towards Y/N and started to fly around them. Y/N giggled as they let two crows on their shoulders.
"Hey Dadza," Y/N said, hugging Phil who hugged them back.
"My God, you look so... different, not like it's a bad thing of course but, where the hell were you, if you were going on vacation you should of told us," Phil said, rubbing Y/N's hair.
Y/N just giggled as the crows kept flying around them.
"Yeah I know. Hey, where's Mumza? If she here right now or is she working?" Y/N asked.
"Uhhhh, I think she's in the forest outside."
Y/N waved goodbye as they left, the crows flying after them.
"Finally those things leave me alone..." Phil sighed in relief.
Y/N walked in the forest while the crows flew behind them, and they stopped when they saw a familiar hat.
"Mumza?"
Kristen looked down behind her and saw a familiar figure. Shrinking down so she wasn't above the trees, she saw a familiar face.
"Y/N..." Kristen said as she walked towards them and placed a hand on their cheek as she covered her mouth, hiding her smile.
"Hey Mumza..."
Kristen began to cry tears of joy as she hugged them.
"I knew you weren't dead, when I checked the limbos and the train station you weren't in neither of them," She said, backing away.
"Oh my, what happen to your face?"
"I don't really remember," Y/N lied.
"Y/N, you know it's wrong to lie to your mother."
Y/N giggled as their mother gave them a stern look.
"I don't really want to talk about it, it's a long story."
"Ok sweetie, now stay safe, I don't want you going missing again, we were worried sick that something happened to you."
"I know, Dadza told me."
Mumza just shook her head with a smile before kissing them on the cheek, like she did when they were very young. Kristen waved goodbye before disappearing into black dust. Chat flew back to Phil's house, leaving Y/N all alone in the woods. Y/N just sat under a tree as they listen to the nature sounds. A fox walked by and slept next to them, bringing Y/N some joy.
Fast forward to night...
Tommy opened Y/N's door in at panic before closing it behind him. Y/N was on their bed reading when the teen came in.
"Tommy, what the hell are you doing here?"
"TOMMY WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?!"
"I may have stolen Will's guitar..."
"That doesn't sound that bad."
"And I may have broke it..." Tommy said, revealing a broken guitar from behind his back.
Y/N burst out into laughter, holding back tears as they laughed.
"You're so fucked!"
After Y/N said that Wilbur burst through the door, knocking Tommy over.
"Shit!" Tommy said, crawling under the bed.
"Get out from their you fucking gremlin," Wilbur said, trying to get tommy.
Techno walked by and just stood at the door way watching the commotion.
"Techno! Can you help me out?"
"Eh, looks like a you problem."
Wilbur groaned as he grabbed Tommy's leg, and once he did he pulled him out from under the bed. Y/N looked at Techno and just shrugged as he showed confusion. Wilbur picked Tommy up, opened the window, and threw Tommy out from it.
"SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT!" Tommy yelled as he prepared himself as he fell.
But the ground never came, but instead felt himself get picked up. Looking up, he saw Kristen with a pissed off face.
"Willbur, what did I saw about throwing Tommy outside of windows!"
"Oooo, Will's getting yelled at by Mumza," Techno mocked, snickering.
"Oh shut up," Wilbur told Techno.
Kristen placed Tommy back inside of the house as she picked Wilbur up and scolded him.
"A 23 year old man getting scolded by his own mother, tsk tsk tsk," Tommy said, shaking his head in a disapproving manner.
"Now, I don't want to see anymore fighting or throwing each other out of windows or breaking each others things, am I making myself clear?"
"Yes Mumza," Wilbur and Tommy said, sighing in defeat.
Kristen nodded before Disappearing into black dust.
"Your getting me a new guitar Tommy," Wilbur said.
"Fine, asshole," Tommy said as he left.
Techno and Will left, leaving Y/N alone. Picking up their book, they noticed that, all the words on the pages were gone. Scrolling through the book, the only thing their was a smiley face. Y/N looked around confused before closing the book.
"He's gone Y/N, your free, don't let your imagination ruin it," Y/N said, putting the book in their drawers.
Later that night...
Y/N slowly opened their eyes and saw a too familiar face staring at them. Before they can screen, Dream covered their mouth and placed a finger over his mouth, silently telling them to hush up. Dream had a sinister smile on his face, he didn't have his mask on, but instead it rested on the side of his head. His green eyes glowed in the darkness as he spoke.
“Scream all you want sweetie, no one’s going to hear you. And no one ever will…”
Y/N panicked and kicked Dream who was towering over them, in the dick, making him wince over and fall onto the floor in pain. Standing up, they ran out of the room and ran downstairs, opening the door and running out of the house. Dream recovered and chased after them.
"COME BACK HERE LOVE!" Dream yelled, running after them.
"Leave me alone, Leave me alone, Leave me alone, I don't want to go back," Y/N mumbled, running faster.
Y/N felt the air get knocked out of them when they fell to the ground, Dream pinning them down as he leaned in to whisper into their.
"Your pathetic... You're the child of the Angel Of Death and the Goddess Of Death, yet you get defeated by a mortal like myself... I guess I really am a God, just trapped in a mortal's body... I told you so many times Y/N, you're weak, you're nothing without me, you'll never be anything without my protection and care, your family doesn't care about, only I will waste my fucking time with you," Dream said, before knocking Y/N out.
Dream picked Y/N up and slung them over his shoulder. As he walked through the forest, he thought about something, a little gift to leave in Y/N's room for the family to see. Sitting Y/N down, he written down on a note 'Thanks for the gift :)' before running back to the house, quietly going in Y/N room to leave it on the bed. Then he ran out and went on his merry way.
The next day...
Tommy went to wake Y/N up, but he was greeted by a messing, dishevelled room.
"What the... What the fuck happened in here?" Tommy asked, looking around.
Once he got to the bed he saw the note, when he picked it up he almost dropped it instantly. Tommy ran down stairs and waved the note in the air.
"They're gone, Y/N's gone!"
"What do you mean?" Phil asked.
"This note was on their bed, and their room was a mess."
Techno grabbed the note as he skimmed over it, his face that held confusion turned to realization and then went to anger.
"What's wrong Techno?" Kristen asked.
"I know this handwriting from anywhere... Dream has them."
"What?!" Wilbur and Tommy asked.
"H-How? Y/N's never met Dream," Tommy said.
"How can we know that for a fact? Y/N was missing for years, and now they come back mysteriously in a panicked manner and in a very unhealthy condition."
"What are you leading towards Techno?" Phil asked.
"My theory is that Y/N was with Dream the years they were missing, and it wasn't by choice. I'm not sure how they met, but they definently have some sort of relationship, and it isn't heathly."
"What does Dream look like?" Kristen asked.
"Why do you ask?"
"I can ask Drista or XD to help me, I have a feeling Dream's linked to the two in some way, and it can help me locate him with the crows help."
"No one's really seen his face," Tommy said.
"But one thing that stands out is his mask, he wears this smiley mask all the time, making it impossible to see his face."
"With that info given to Mumza, what's the plan?" Wilbur asked.
Techno let out a dark chuckle as his eyes went dark.
"Oh I have a plan... And it's not going to be easy..."
With Y/N and Dream...
Y/N looked up and their hands were above their head, cuffed to the wall with no way to escape. Their legs were tied together, and the shirt they were wearing was gone, leaving them in just their undergarments. Looking up, Dream was sitting on a chair, looking at them dead in the eyes with a pissed off expression as he sharpened his netherite sword.
"Tell me this Y/N, what made you get the confidence and ego to pull this BULLSHIT on me?!"
Dream stood up and grabbed their face
"I give you everything, anything! If you want it I get it for you. But you just had to get selfish and leave me, you're fucking disgusting."
"I'm not disgusting..." Y/N mumbled.
"What did you say whore?"
"You heard me, I'm not disgusting! You're the one that fucking kidnapped me and hid me away for years, starving me whenever I got 'too fat?' WHAT BULLSHIT IS THAT?! You physically and emotionally abuse me, and you do this just because you love me? I believed you for years, but when I got to see my family again I remembered what real love was, and this, this isn't love! You need fucking help Dream, and after this I'm going to need fucking therapy due to your FUCKING BULLSHIT!"
Dream slapped Y/N hard across the face, before putting his hand around Y/N's throat.
“Your life is in my hands, don’t test me, ok?”
"I'm not testing you Dream, I'm telling you the truth. You're just too caught up in your ego to see it."
Dream began to chuckle, before going into a hysterical laughter.
"Oh~ Y/N just doesn't know when to shut up..." Dream said, before kicking them in the stomach.
"Being with your family for 1 day made you get your ego, confidence and self respect back... Now that's not good," Dream continued, stabbing his netherite sword into Y/N's hands, making them scream in pain.
Dream began to hurt punch them over and over again until he got bored.
"DREAM PLEASE STOP! I'M AT HALF A HEART!" Y/N yelled, looking up at Dream with pleading eyes.
Dream just smiled, his eyes glowing as he looked down at them.
"Oh Y/N... I could kill you right now, and no one would care! NOBODY! And if people did care, where's your family? Where's your friends? Only I care about you, only I can make you happy, only I can touch you the way I do, and only I can love you..."
Y/N's brain just completely shut down as they stared down at the floor with emotionless eyes. Y/N began to cry, tears rolling down their face as they thrashed against their restraints.
"No! You're wrong! Youre..." Y/N said, before they felt Dream grab their chin.
"Care to finish that?"
Y/N just shook their head no, being too tired to do anything, and having too many mental and physical scars to even care anymore.
"Now, who's the only one that can love you?
"You..."
"And who do you love?"
"You..."
"Good..."
Dream unlocked their cuffs and watched as they fell to Y/N's side limply. Dream placed Y/N in his lap and ran his hand through their hair.
"You're all mine... And not even you're family can change that..."
#yandere dream#yandere dream smp#yandere dream x reader#yandere mcyt#dream smp x reader#dreamsmp x reader#myct x reader#dream x reader#dreamwastaken x reader#Yandere dreamwastaken
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Episodes related to each entity (up to and including episode 120)
This has been sitting in my drafts for ages and since I’m not planning on returning to the series, I might as well publish it.
The Stranger
a. 1. Angler Fish (March 2010)
b. 2. Do Not Open (1996-1998)
c. 3. Across the Street (7 April 2006)
d. 28. Skintight (January 2015)
e. 34. Anatomy Class (January-March 2016)
f. 39. Infestation (29 July 2016)
g. 44. Tightrope (November 1952)
h. 54. Still Life (early 2013?)
i. 61. Hard Shoulder (24 July 2002)
j. 77. The Kind Mother (August 1994)
k. 78. Distant Cousin (late 90s, pre-2001)
l. 79. Hide and Seek (16 February 2017)
m. 83. Drawing A Blank (September-October 2013)
n. 87. The Uncanny Valley (September 2014)
o. 96. Return to Sender (1993-1996)
p. 101. Another Twist (May/June 2017)
q. 104. Sneak Preview (August 2013)
r. suspected 114. Cracked Foundation (23 April 2009)
s. 116. The Show Must Go On (October 1787)
t. 118. The Masquerade (6 August 2017)
u. 119. Stranger and Stranger (6 August 2017)
The Buried
a. 2. Do Not Open (1996-1998)
b. 15. Lost Johns’ Cave (14/15 June 2014)
c. suspected 41. Too Deep (mid-August - September 2016)
d. 50. Foundations (1836)
e. 51. High Pressure (August 2006)
f. 61. Hard Shoulder (24 July 2002)
g. 66. Held in Customs (19 January 2000)
h. 71. The Buried (6 January 2017)
i. 88. Dig (pre-November 2003)
j. 97. We All Ignore the Pit (June 2008)
k. 99. Dust to Dust (April 1935)
The Web
a. 3. Across the Street (7 April 2006)
b. 8. Burned Out (November 2006)
c. 16. Arachnophobia (early 2015)
d. 19. Confession (November 2006)
e. 56. Children of the Night (2009)
f. 59. Recluse (early-to-mid 1960s)
g. 69. Thought for the Day (pre-2010)
h. 78. Distant Cousin (late 90s, pre-2001)
i. 81. A Guest For Mr. Spider (1995)
j. 100. I Guess You Had To Be There (2017?)
k. 110. Creature Feature (2012)
l. 114. Cracked Foundation (23 April 2009)
The Vast
a. 4. Page Turner (10 November 2012)
b. 21. Freefall (3, 5, 7 June 2002)
c. 46. Literary Heights (1997-1998)
d. 51. High Pressure (August 2006)
e. 75. A Long Way Down (early October 2006)
f. 91. The Coming Storm (at least from 1996-2017)
g. 97. We All Ignore the Pit (June 2008)
h. 106. A Matter of Perspective (September 2007)
The Spiral
a. 4. Page Turner (10 November 2012)
b. 8. Burned Out (November 2006)
c. 19. Confession (November 2006)
d. 20. Desecrated Host (November 2006)
e. 26. A Distortion (1 April 2016)
f. 27. A Sturdy Lock (July 2003)
g. 38. Lost and Found (March 2012)
h. 46. Literary Heights (1997-1998)
i. 47. The New Door (around early-to-mid 2016)
j. 65. Binary (late 2016 - early 2017?)
k. 74. Fatigue (pre-June 2015)
l. 78. Distant Cousin (late 90s, pre-2001)
m. 79. Hide and Seek (16 February 2017)
n. 85. Upon the Stair (between 1980 and 1990)
o. 91. The Coming Storm (at least from 1996-2017)
p. 100. I Guess You Had To Be There (2017?)
q. 101. Another Twist (between October 2009 and 2011, May/June 2017)
r. 115. Taking Stock (mid-to-late 2017)
The End
a. 4. Page Turner (10 November 2012)
b. 11. Dreamer (12 March 2015)
c. 29. Cheating Death (17 June 1775)
d. 43. Section 31 (August 2011,18 July 2014)
e. 62. First Edition (1955)
f. 64. Burial Rites (2012)
g. 70. Book of the Dead (2003)
h. 94. Dead Woman Walking (around 2000s-early 2010s)
i. suspected 95. Absent Without Leave (after 1946, 1977?)
j. 113. Breathing Room (around 2012)
The Flesh
a. 5. Thrown Away (8 August 2008)
b. 14. Piecemeal (early 2011)
c. 17. The Boneturner’s Tale (1996)
d. 18. The Man Upstairs (22 October 2007)
e. 20. Desecrated Host (November 2006)
f. 30. Killing Floor (12 July 2013)
g. 49. The Butcher’s Window (June 2007)
h. 58. Trail Rations (October - November 1845)
i. 72. Takeaway (27 September 2009)
j. 90. Body Builder (2013)
k. 103. Cruelty Free (2014)
l. 115. Taking Stock (autumn 1999)
The Corruption
a. 6. Squirm (20 November 2014)
b. 16. Arachnophobia (early 2015)
c. 22. Colony (March 2016)
d. 26. A Distortion (1 April 2016)
e. 32. Hive (pre-2014)
f. 36. Taken ill (August - September 2011)
g. 39. Infestation (29 July 2016)
h. 45. Blood Bag (spring 2010)
i. 55. Pest Control (2011, 2014)
j. 68. The Tale of a Field Hospital (1 June 2003)
k. 84. Possessive (pre-1982, late 1970s?)
l. 93. Containment (1995)
m. suspected 95. Absent Without Leave (after 1946, 1977?)
n. 102. Nesting Instinct (early 2014)
The Slaughter
a. 7. The Piper (1917-1918)
b. 28. Skintight (January 2015)
c. 42. Grifter’s Bone (autumn 2013)
d. 76. The Smell of Blood (late 2016?)
e. 82. The Eyewintesses (pre-2007?, 18 February 2017)
f. 95. Absent Without Leave (after 1946, 1977?)
g. 105. Total War (1862)
h. 116. The Show Must Go On (October 1787)
i. 117. Testament (1919, between 2016-2017?)
The Desolation
a. 8. Burned Out (November 2006)
b. 12. First Aid (23 December 2011)
c. 19. Confession (November 2006)
d. 37. Burnt Offering (August 2009)
e. 43. Section 31 (August 2011,18 July 2014)
f. 55. Pest Control (2011, 2014)
g. 59. Recluse (early-to-mid 1960s)
h. 67. Burning Desire (October-November 2006)
i. 87. The Uncanny Valley (September 2014)
j. 89. Twice as Bright (1989-1991)
k. 100. I Guess You Had To Be There (around 2015-2016?)
l. 107. Third Degree (January 2010)
The Dark
a. 9. A Father’s Love (1990-1995)
b. 25. Growing Dark (January - 11 March 2015)
c. suspected 41. Too Deep (mid-August - September 2016)
d. 52. Exceptional Risk (1 November 2002)
e. 63. The End of the Tunnel (26 March 2014)
f. 73. Police Lights (10 February 2017)
g. 86. Tucked In (1983)
h. 98. Lights Out (1864)
i. 100. I Guess You Had To Be There (2017?)
j. 109. Nightfall (Jluy 2010)
The Hunt
a. 9. A Father’s Love (1990-1995)
b. 10. Vampire Killer (1959-)
c. 31. First Hunt (31 November - 1 December 2010)
d. 36. Taken ill (August - September 2011)
e. 56. Children of the Night (1982, 1996, 2009)
f. 61. Hard Shoulder (24 July 2002)
g. 107. Third Degree (mid-2017)
h. 109. Nightfall (July 2010)
i. 112. Thrill of the Chase (November 2011)
The Eye
a. 12. First Aid (23 December 2011)
b. 23. Schwartzwald (winter 1815)
c. 53. Crusader (November 1941)
d. 60. Observer Effect (April - July 1972)
e. 62. First Edition (1955)
f. 82 The Eyewintesses (pre-2007?, 18 February 2017)
g. 92. Nothing Beside Remains (9 April 1824, 28 April 2017)
h. 118. The Masquerade (6 August 2017)
g. 120. Eye Contact (9 August 2017)
The Lonely
a. 13. Alone (30/31 March 2015)
b. 33. Boatswain’s Call (late November 2010)
c. 48. Lost in the Crowd (around 2009 - early 2010)
d. 57. Personal Space (September 2007)
e. 92. Nothing Beside Remains (9 April 1824, 28 April 2017)
f. 100. I Guess You Had To Be There (2017?)
g. 108. Monologue (August 2009)
The Extinction
a. 65. Binary (late 2016 - early 2017?)
b. suspected 114. Cracked Foundation (23 April 2009)
All entities/general plot
a. 35. Old Passages (pre-2002)
b. 80. The Librarian (1994, 16 February 2017)
c. 111. Family Business (September 2008, 30 June 2017)
d. 117. Testament (2-4 August 2017)
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Hi KC Readers,
After a long break, we are back with our weekly releases! We apologize for the delay but we have reached the end of the week which means we have new weekly releases for you! The stories below were updated during the week of May 22nd - May 28th.
Happy Reading!
FanFiction.Net
Something Like Love (Chapter 8)
Author: Recklessnesspersonified
Rating: M
Length: 20,346
Summary: Klaus Mikaelson was a bad boy, the quintessential jock or so Caroline Forbes had thought until one night their paths cross in the school hallways. He was different, intense and she was falling for him, but soon she finds out it was all a sham. Will she forgive him or would they break up before they confess their true love? AU/AH
Date of update: May 23 2021
Klaus POV - The Trouble with Spells (Chapter 26)
Author: ilovetf
Rating: M
Length: 105,863
Summary: I think the title is self explanatory. The Trouble with Spells as seen through Klaus's eyes and his POV. Over the years, people kept liking this story and some even asked for Klaus POV, so I decided to give it a try. Hope you enjoy it. All feedback is more than welcome. Good or bad.
Date of update: May 23 2021
High Stakes
Author: stardancer10
Rating: M
Length: 4,105
Summary: When Klaus died something in Caroline broke. She could not take anymore of Mystic Falls and she left. In her travels she finds herself doing things that she knew others wouldn't agree with, but she did what she felt was right. It was a gamble she was willing to take, something she felt that she owed him.
Date of update: May 23 2021
Purgatory (Chapter 22)
Author: Scarletborn
Rating: M
Length: 333,312
Summary: Caroline Forbes always thought that evil creatures and demons belonged to Hell. What she did not know was that vampires belonged to Purgatory. A place worse than hell where the only thing that mattered was survival. A place where enemies turned into allies and foes into friends. [Klaus/Caroline AU story set mostly in New Orleans]
Date of update: May 24 2021
The Wolf II (Chapter 11)
Author: yokan87
Rating: T
Length: 4,718
Summary: The Guerreras' threat still looms over the Mikaelson house as Caroline tries to adapt to life as a vampire, away from her daughter. But an unexpected family reunion makes everything worse, taking away the little peace Klaus, Caroline and Elijah managed to find after the war that nearly broke them. [It's TO S2, but Caroline was a witch, had Klaus' baby and now she's a vampire]
Date of update: May 26 2021
Vampires suck (Chapter 4)
Author: Miss.Mystic.Falls
Rating: T
Length: 5,583
Summary: What would happen if Caroline knew about vampires way before the Salvatore brothers come to Mystic Falls.
Date of update: May 28 2021
Archive of Our Own
No Reservations (Chapter 3)
Author: PumpkinDoodles
Rating: M
Length: 6,890
Summary: Caroline Forbes is having a tiny crisis: her restaurant partner and co-chef has disappeared again and isn't returning her calls. Caroline cannot function without Stefan. Her kitchen staff starts making jokes about getting her meds for irritability and she takes out her issues on helpless chicken breasts. It's not fun on a good day. But when tragedy strikes, Caroline's forced to work with a new chef. She doesn't remember meeting him in New Orleans--but Klaus Mikaelson remembers her.
Date of update: May 22 2021
Sibling Rivalry Redux - Adventures in Polyamory (Chapter 3)
Author: kcatdino
Rating: M
Length: 4,105
Summary: In which Klaus and Rebekah are both bi, their taste in men and women overlaps infuriatingly often, and they argue over their newest shared interest.
In which Caroline feels like she might be a sugar baby, but no one’s dating her and she hasn’t gotten any in so long. Like, basically since meeting her new best friends, Klaus and Rebekah. Weird, right?
Date of update: May 22 2021
Darkness Becomes Thee (Chapter 6)
Author: BelleMorte180
Rating: E
Length: 32,424
Summary: Austria 1300s When Klaus met a young girl on a riverbank, he knew that he would one day come back for her. When he looked into her bright blue eyes, he could see a reflection of his own soul, a darkness that lingered inside both of them. When the young girl turned into a beautiful woman with a thirst for blood, his fascination with her turns into obsession. He wants not only her loyalty but her eternity, a possessiveness that is equally returned. or my "Caroline is the serial killer Elizabeth Bathory" au.
Date of update: May 23 2021
The Big Bad Wolf (Chapter 9)
Author: MorningStarGirl666
Rating: M
Length: 66,087
Summary: He was the Big, Bad Wolf of this story, there was no doubt about that. But Caroline? She was the light to his darkness, the moon that shone brighter than even the stars in a sky of endless void. Like every wolf, he fell in love with the moon, and every month, he was destined to cry for a love he would never touch.
Date of update: May 23 2021
Klaus vs the Soulmate Goose
Author: kcatdino
Rating: T
Length: 2,129
Summary: Klaus has met his match in the form of a goose as immortal and obstinate as he is: The Soulmate Goose of Enforcement. Will he succeed in killing the magical creature or will it force him to accept what’s in his heart?
Date of update: May 23 2021
Louder Than Thunder (Chapter 28)
Author: khaleesiofthewolves
Rating: M
Length: 179,641
Summary: All Hell was about to break loose. After dying while protecting a grieving Klaus, Caroline finds herself sent back in time, and she's not who she once was. She's more. Back in Mystic Falls, something else is stirring. After the arrival of a mysterious figure from Klaus' past, it all comes to a head. It really is louder than thunder.
Date of update: May 24 2021
We are young (Chapter 17)
Author: kcatdino
Rating: T
Length: 20,572
Summary: Basically, Klaroline flirt in front of their kids who they are barely older than, and Landon is appropriately confused. Edit: Now a series of one-shots! Edit 2: Oh my god, this has plot now!
Date of update: May 24 2021
Our Time Now (Chapter 4)
Author: perfectpro
Rating: M
Length: 52,838
Summary: Caroline is going to spend her senior year getting into the law school of her choice, leading the cheerleading squad to a nationals title, and passing her sorority presidency to someone who will continue a legacy of excellence. She doesn't have time to figure out what's happening with her relationship with Klaus - not that it's much of a relationship to begin with.
Date of update: May 24 2021
I See Dead Cheerleaders (Chapter 4)
Author: PumpkinDoodles
Rating: M
Length: 7,865
Summary: When Caroline saves Jenna from Klaus's sacrifice ritual and is killed instead, she vows to haunt Klaus Mikaelson forever. Never underestimate the determination of Miss Mystic Falls.
Date of update: May 25 2021
Finding Out the Truth in a Year or Even in a Century
Author: klarolineshipperxoxo
Rating: G
Length: 1,348
Summary: Caroline goes with Stefan to New Orleans in search of Klaus 18 years after the events of TVD 5x22 and TO 1x22 but things don't go as planned and buried feelings are unearthed.
Date of update: May 25 2021
Klaroline Returns (Chapter 2)
Author: kcatdino
Rating: T
Length: 8,010
Summary: The savior of Gotham, Catwoman, is Caroline Forbes, flighty heiress by day. But what happens when her worlds collide in the form of reporter Klaus Mikaelson and her worst supervillain, The Hybrid?
Date of update: May 25 2021
witchy business (Chapter 4)
Author: MaddestMaid3n
Rating: M
Length: 13,783
Summary: "A little birdie told me you might have a book or two that might pique my interest,” “Well, that depends on your interests," Caroline's just trying to survive Marcel's New Orleans. Colluding with an Original was so not on her to-do list.
Date of update: May 25 2021
Klaus’ Thousand Year Plan to be Her Last (Chapter 3)
Author: anncatherine
Rating: T
Length: 4,022
Summary: So these are some missing Klaroline scenes from my Elena/Elijah soulmate fic that I couldn’t include because they either didn’t fit or needed to be form Klaus or Caroline’s pov. I think it would be helpful to read at least the first couple chapters of that for background, but basically at twelve people’s soulmate’s birthday shows up on their wrist.
Date of update: May 26 2021
what a wave you have made
Author: sekretny
Rating: T
Length: 3,413
Summary: “Do you really hate me this much?” She shouts in frustration. Klaus looks her in the eye, their gazes locked in a battle of fiery tempers. “Hate you…” He repeats with every ounce of venom he can muster. After ransacking the contents of his backpack, he removes a sketchbook Caroline has never seen before. He starts to flip furiously through the pages, “You have given me more than enough reasons to hate you, sweetheart,” he spits while he looks for a specific page. He finds it and turns the sketchbook around to show her. Klaus makes his feelings for Caroline visibly clear.
Date of update: May 26 2021
The Concept of Time (Chapter 3)
Author: BelleMorte180
Rating: E
Length: 19,640
Summary: Pairs, France 1864 After learning some distressing news, Klaus seeks out the advice of a friend in the middle of the night and meets a mysterious woman who leaves him with more questions than answers. She hands him a journal filled with the mad ramblings about time by a man named Lorenzo St. John and sees a curious date tattooed on her shoulder. Klaus can think of little else after their first meeting and tracks her down at a burlesque club in the wrong part of the city. Klaus begins to wonder if he can solve the mystery of Caroline Forbes or simply be lost in what has deemed to be impossible.
Date of update: May 26 2021
Revenge of the Fifth - TVD Edition (Chapter 3)
Author: kcatdino
Rating: M
Length: 6,168
Summary: A star wars AU for vampire dairies for May the Fourth Be with You! Caroline, Bonnie, and Elena are padawan learners at Luke Skywalker’s new Jedi training academy, desperate to prove themselves by taking down some of the new Sith Lords that have popped up. The problem is, those Sith Lords are the Mikaelsons, and each girl has a Mikaelson brother obsessed with them, unwilling to let them come to harm. Will that make it harder or easier for them to triumph over the Dark Side?
Date of update: May 26 2021
Smoke Signals
Author: misssophiachase
Rating: T
Length: 3,017
Summary: "You, you must have been looking for me...sending smoke signals" Professional photographer Caroline Forbes and firefighter Klaus Mikaelson keep running into each other. It’s either the universe playing a joke on them or Katherine’s ‘accidental’ matchmaking. Or maybe it's a bit of both?
Date of update: May 27 2021
Reasons Not to Date a Mikaelson (Chapter 8)
Author: kcatdino
Rating: T
Length: 15,851
Summary: Bonnie and Caroline gain a new roommate for their freshman dorm when a vision leads them to tracking down a pregnant Hayley in the Rockies. Also, Bonnie may or may not have raised a certain dead Original instead of Jeremy and Klaus takes a job at Whitmore teaching, to be annoying. He’s very good at it. This is a season 5 rewrite where the Originals never leave for New Orleans. But you know, with comedy. And increasing angst with every chapter.
Date of update: May 27 2021
if you want me to fall (Chapter 2)
Author: FeyresUnbecoming
Rating: T
Length: 1,807
Summary: Caroline and Klaus scramble out of bed before Rebekah can find the two of them, lest she find out they've been sleeping together.
Date of update: May 27 2021
Good to you - Side Stories and Prompts
Author: originalhybridlover
Rating: T
Length: 801
Summary: So this is going to be a set a side stories or prompts related to my Klaroline story, Good to You
Date of update: May 28 2021
Genuine Beauty: Klaroline Canon-ish Drabble Collection
Author: Klauscarolove
Rating: M
Length: 30,884
Summary: Klaroline Drabble Collection: Close Canon, Canon Compliant, Canon-ish, Canon Universe....... basically if they are vampires in the drabble, it will go here.
Date of update: May 27 2021
Klaroline Storybook (Chapter 44)
Author: misssophiachase
Rating: T
Length: 63,904
Summary: A new selection of Klaroline drabbles
Date of update: May 28 2021
Lost Through Time (Chapter 7)
Author: Life_is_a_fantasy
Rating: Unavailable
Length: 4,173
Summary: What will happen when Hope, Landon, Lizzie and Josie fall through a time portal? Will they change things, even if they don't mean to? How will Klaus react to knowing his daughter has a boyfriend?
Date of update: May 28 2021
When your family is too nosy.... (Chapter 3)
Author: kcatdino
Rating: Unavailable
Length: 4,349
Summary: Klaus’s plan to get back at Rebekah by staying friends with Stefan backfires spectacularly when Stefan and Stefan’s ex-girlfriend Caroline convince him to fake a relationship at his family’s get-together at the beach. Sure, Rebekah will probably assume Caroline’s a prostitute and the rest of his family are too nosy for his own good, but what could go wrong? (I will add a rating later when I decide how explicit the smut will be)
Date of update: May 28 2021
LITTLE TENSE (Chapter 4)
Author: wincefish16
Rating: T
Length: 4,462
Summary: Klaroline's life together as they work in Mikaelson and co. Different snippets of their life. HUMAN, FULL OF FLUFF AND LITTLE BIT OF ANGST.
Date of update: May 28 2021
Like snow we melt, like rain we fall, like the sun we burn, in love. (Chapter 3)
Author: BlackRaven475932
Rating: M
Length: 4,088
Summary: after episode 5x11, Klaroline sex scene. Klaus and Caroline have a secret relationship.
Teasing in public, a lot of smut, no one knows. WARNING, this story contains a blood kink in later chapters. If you don't like this then I advise you not to read it. It will occur in later chapters and I will give a warning before the chapter.
Date of update: May 28 2021
The Allure of Darkness (Chapter 2)
Author: Loveyou3000Klaroline
Rating: M
Length: 5,127
Summary: “Anything that’s worth anything is dangerous.” Or... Klaus Mikaelson is the big bad hybrid, but he is the only one who can make Caroline’s world stable. Especially after the lie of her life gets unraveled.
Date of update: May 28 2021
That Pesky Phone
Author: timetravelercat
Rating: T
Length: 1,029
Summary: "What was that?" he asked her curiously. She looked at him, embarrassed— —Wait, Caroline Forbes? Embarrassed?" Just Klaus," she answered simply, not giving him anymore details and averting her eyes. Huh, suspicious.
Date of update: May 28 2021
Ok, Cupids
Author: timetravelercat
Rating: T
Length: 795
Summary: Klaus and Caroline sign Stefan into an online dating site.
Date of update: May 28 2021
Available On Both Websites
FFN: The Traitor and the Coward (Chapter 6)
AO3: The Traitor and the Coward (Chapter 6)
Author: Uppity Bitch
Rating: M
Length: 10,677
Summary: Klaroline AU supernatural multi-chap - Original!Caroline has spent lifetimes running from her lover and his family. Despite the centuries of loneliness, she regrets nothing. Soon, she'll bring an end to this madness. Or bring the madness full circle.
Date of update: May 23 2021
FFN: What You Always Wanted
AO3: What You Always Wanted
Author: Eliliyah
Rating: M
Length: 2,646
Summary: After waiting a thousand years for her husband to break his hybrid curse, Caroline realizes Klaus neglected to mention that his next step was to build an army. Furious, she leaves him alone in Mystic Falls. Knowing there's only one way to make it up to her, Klaus shows up on her doorstep with the one person who can get him back in her good graces: their old friend, Stefan.
Date of update: May 26 2021
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Qtvtp blurb - Daniel and Ava on the beach - touchy touchy - insert gif 👀 get caught by paparazzi and have front cover scandal jsjsjs
The gif in question can be found HERE as this was the inspiration hehe
May 2, 2018
“Where are you?”
“At home…in the studio. What’s up?”
“We have a problem.”
“What kind of problem?”
The phoneline went dead in Daniel’s hand and he glanced down at his screen as the call disappeared. The studio door opened right then and Avalon hurried in, still in her Bluestone Lane uniform. Daniel, utterly confused by her quick and cryptic phone call, pushed back his chair from his desk to greet her and her obviously frazzled expression.
“What’s wrong, Aves?” Daniel pressed.
“I’m so embarrassed.” Avalon mumbled as she walked over to drop a magazine onto the desk in front of him.
Front cover in vibrant colours from the beige of the sand to the blue of the ocean, the text of the magazine cover encircled the slightly blurry yet somehow quite clear image of Daniel and Avalon on top of each other on the sand. They were kissing – very passionately – and his hands were clearly grabbing at her bum in her bikini as she straddled his body and tangled her fingers in his hair, the waves splashing up around them.
They were sure they had found a private corner of the beach for their date, allowing their privacy to permit a bit of hot and heavy kissing, but apparently, they weren’t completely alone.
“Goddamn paparazzi.” Daniel grumbled as he tapped his fingers against the cover photo.
“This has to be illegal…that’s like…” Avalon tossed her hand out in the direction of the magazine, “That’s like pornography.”
“Hardly pornography.” Daniel chuckled quietly.
“Not the way I remember it.”
Daniel sent her a playful glare, “It’s not pornography unless they followed us home."
She smacked his shoulder as he turned back to the magazine and flipped to the page where the article about them was written.
He started reading out loud as he grabbed Avalon’s hand and pulled her onto his lap, “Daniel Seavey was spotted on the beaches near Santa Monica engaging in a passionate hookup with his girlfriend, Avalon, last Saturday. The Co-Owner of Only the Beginning Studios, 23, has been known for his playboy antics in and around Los Angeles-”
Daniel scoffed loudly at that, “That’s uncalled for.”
He continued reading, “but over the last few months he has seemed to settle down with this every-day girl and given models and singers a break.”
He ignored the rest of the writing but skimmed over the images, a few in sequence of them rolling over so he was on top of her, the water splashing up around them and disappearing back into the ocean in waves. There were also a few of them sitting together on the sand and looking more than happy and then one of them walking off towards the car, hand in hand, and Daniel holding his towel in front of him.
“Kinda nice shots though.” Daniel shrugged lightheartedly. “Shitty journalism but…”
Avalon rolled her eyes and Daniel held her tighter so she couldn’t get up from his lap. He rested his chin on her shoulder and stared at her unimpressed expression. He reached up a hand to poke at her pouted bottom lip.
“Hey. What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong? This is…a complete invasion of privacy. I work at a daycare for God’s sakes so this…this stuff can’t just be out there like this.”
“Honey, we…we can’t really avoid that.” Daniel said, letting his fingers lace with hers. “It just comes with my job unfortunately.”
“Yeah. Everything comes with your job.” Avalon grumbled.
“Don’t be mad at me. This isn’t my fault.” Daniel pleaded, pressing a kiss to her shoulder.
Avalon sighed tiredly, “I know it’s not your fault. But it’s disgusting and perverted and…just…”
She reached for the magazine and stared at the pictures. They were certainly steamy as the vibrantly coloured captions and obnoxious fire emojis put it and she shook her head in annoyance before tossing the magazine back onto the desk. Daniel welcomed her tired slouch against his chest and he kissed her shoulder again.
“Does the world need to know about all of our dates?” Avalon frowned.
Daniel hummed softly, “They all wanna be us, Aves.”
She chuckled tiredly and rested her head against his, “They all wanna be me. You of all people dating some boing ‘every-day girl’ like me.”
“Oh shut up.” Daniel tisked. “I don’t see it like that and you know it.”
“Everyone else does.” Avalon mumbled. “Even your brother.”
“Christian’s just obnoxious and everyone else is irrelevant. You are my princess and I will dry hump you on the beach in broad daylight for as long as it takes you to know that.”
“You are disgusting.” Avalon laughed, curling into him as he wrapped his arms around her waist snugly and kissed her neck.
Daniel chuckled proudly, “Who cares what people think? The only people that matter are you and me.”
Avalon hummed in hesitant agreement and he tucked in hands in hers again to give them a squeeze. He kissed her shoulder and then her neck just enough to make her shiver. Daniel’s phone rang from the desk and he picked it up to see Jonah’s came across his screen.
“This is gonna be good.” Daniel grumbled as he answered it. “Hey, bro.”
“Did you see your front cover shoot?”
“Yeah. Ava just brought it home.”
“What the fuck, dude? We don’t need this kind of shit going around. It’s so bad for our image.”
“You never had an issue with it when it was random girls I was seen with. Shouldn’t it be better that this one’s consistent?” Daniel sighed.
Avalon slid off his lap and he pulled her down by her hand to give her a kiss (or three) to leave him with his best friend and his ranting. Jonah’s annoyed volume could be heard without the phone being on speaker and Avalon slunk out of the studio and into the main house without another word, only catching one last rebuttal from Daniel before she closed the door,
“Damn, Jo, you don’t have to have a fucking stick up your ass just because I’m getting laid and you’re not. Fuckin’ relax, dude.”
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by @rexalexander and @postcardsanddaydreaming
After the Atlanta child murders, the Behavioral Science Unit is as busy as ever. With a new team member by their side, they take on what feels like a growing number of active serial killers as well as continue their interviews of already incarcerated subjects. Bill tries to track down Nancy and Brian with the hopes of repairing his marriage, while Wendy tries to take on a more active role in their research with an eager budding protégé at her side.
Read on AO3
*If you enjoy this, please like/reblog on tumblr and/or leave kudos/comments on AO3. Your feedback helps keep fic writers writing.*
Notes: As always, thanks to my beta fish @hardythehermitcrab
Chapter 2: Feeling Like a Loner
The bell rang. The class full of children emptied in a flurry of squeals. The teacher breathed a sigh of relief, but stopped when she noticed she wasn’t alone. A pair of mousy braids sat by the window watching her peers spill out into the playground like ants under a log. They scattered, dispersing themselves amongst the jungle gym, the hopscotch marked concrete, and the small patch of grass they called a field.
The teacher softly called her name.
They’d had this conversation before, usually ending with her forfeiting her smoke break to stay in the classroom.
The girl didn’t turn around.
“You have to go outside today,” she added. “It’s a beautiful day. And look at those clouds. I think that one looks like a cow.”
The girl didn’t move.
“Sweetie.” The teacher put a hand on her shoulder. The girl finally turned to face her. “Why don’t you go outside, hmm?”
“Why?”
“Why? Because it’s fun. Look. Look at all the fun they’re having.”
The girl looked back out the window and contemplated.
“That doesn’t look fun to me,” she concluded, matter-of-factly.
“You need to go outside today.”
“Why?”
“Because teachers need a break, too, and I can’t supervise you in here,” she responded bluntly.
“Oh,” the girl replied. “Okay.”
She got up from her seat and grabbed her neatly folded cardigan from the cubby.
Once outside, she found a good vantage point - a mostly flat rock at the edge of the field where she can see most of the schoolyard.
A group of boys were playing jacks. They’d made it to foursies, from what she could tell. Another boy hovered around them asking to join, but they ignored him.
The girl turned away from them and took a rubber ball out of the front pocket of her overalls. She bounced it against the ground on her own. Then, she turned back to the boys, still steadily bouncing her ball. She watched. When the time was right, she launched her ball into their game, knocking the jacks out of a boy’s hand. They yelled. She caught her ball without missing a beat.
The girl smiled, then turned her attention to the jungle gym. Almost ten children were winding their bodies between the bars, some resting on levels, others climbing to the highest perch. The few children in the center looked like they were imprisoned. An acrobatic cage. One boy made it to the top, or rather almost. His feet were on the second highest bars, his hands on the highest. He put one foot up on the high bar and tested his balance, releasing the pressure on his other grounded foot. His hand slipped, but he got his grip in time to only suffer a minor embarrassment (one of his friends saw, and proceeded to laugh). The boy climbed down after that.
She looked down at her cream colored Mary Janes and tapped her toes together. In the corner of her eye, inching toward her, was a remarkably fuzzy caterpillar. It bobbed up and down like a wave, growing closer and closer to the shore of her shoe.
“I got it,” someone yelled.
Then thud.
The caterpillar disappeared under a grass stained sneaker belonging to the boy who “got it”. “It” was a rubber ball, and the boy she recognized as the one whose turn at jacks was interrupted.
He ran back to his friends, taking no notice of her or his victim. The insect, upon inspection, hadn’t been entirely crushed, and was still wriggling. She gingerly scooped it up with a sturdy leaf and rested it in one hand while she cupped her other around it like a shield. She watched it writhe with increasing intensity, then intermittently, then not at all.
--------------------------------------------------------
On the following Monday morning, Bill was surprised to see that he had beat Holden in to work.
He poked his head in Wendy’s office.
“Captain America not in yet?”
“No,” she replied, barely looking up from the page in front of her.
“Maybe he finally got lucky,” Bill joked.
He got a smirk out of her that time.
Bill turned around and, seeing that Gregg was preoccupied with a phone call, didn’t bother closing the door.
“I’m going up to talk to Gunn,” he said softly.
“Good.” She paused. “Do you know what you’re going to tell him?”
“Marital problems.”
Wendy nodded her approval.
Gregg’s voice got louder from the hallway.
“Is he still on the phone?” Wendy asked.
Bill turned to confirm. “Yup.”
Wendy closed her file.
“This is ridiculous. We can’t be expected to assist in every single murder case across the country. We can’t even keep up with the inquiries.”
“What did Gunn say?”
She rolled her eyes.
“I haven’t really mentioned it, not explicitly. He’s not exactly receptive to my ideas. Knowing him, he would probably ask why Gregg was the one dealing with it and suggest I take over secretarial duties.”
“He’s not that bad, is he?”
Wendy’s eyes flicked up at him. Her look said it all.
“I’ll talk to him,” Bill decided. “Tell him we need to hire someone.”
“Thank you.”
He nodded.
Holden speed walked into the office, his forehead glistening with sweat.
“Good morning, sunshine,” Bill greeted.
Wendy got up from her desk and joined Bill in the doorway.
“Sorry,” Holden muttered breathlessly.
“Is everything alright?” Wendy asked.
“What? Oh, yeah. I had to take the bus, but I forgot my wallet at home and…It’s been a morning.”
“How’s your car?”
“What happened to your car?” Bill interjected.
Holden, still exasperated, dropped his briefcase on the desk with a thud.
“It wouldn’t start when I went to leave the bar on Friday, so Wendy gave me a ride home.”
Bill threw a side-eyed glance at Wendy who wrinkled her nose in subtle disgust.
No, Bill.
“I got it towed to the shop on Saturday,” Holden continued, “but it wasn’t a dead battery. Turns out I need a new timing belt, and they couldn’t get one in until today. I have to pick it up in a couple hours because they close early, and when I called this morning it still wasn’t ready, which is why I had to take the bus. Hence…” He gestured to his state of disarray and exhaled.
“Happy Monday,” Wendy said before disappearing back into her office.
Bill got roped into a case that delayed his plan to talk to Gunn. It was almost 11am before he was finally able to go upstairs. Nearly 23 minutes later, Bill returned to the basement where Holden and Wendy appeared to be waiting for him. The pair looked at him expectantly.
“It went fine,” Bill admitted. “He gave me some sympathy about ‘the old ball and chain’ and poured me a finger of whiskey. As long as we stay on track and deliver, we’re good.”
“That’s great, Bill,” Holden said.
“And Gunn agreed about hiring an assistant,” Bill added, to Wendy’s relief. “A non-agent, but someone who can deal with the sensitive matter. He said he would talk to you about it.”
Wendy’s face dropped.
“Why me?”
Bill opened his mouth to explain, but stopped. He couldn’t find the right words.
She understood.
“Of course,” she added bitterly. Because I’m the woman.
Sometimes she missed Boston.
“Oh, shoot,” Holden exclaimed, noticing the time. “I gotta go.”
“Did you send that profile to Osborn?” Bill asked.
“Yeah, I just faxed it over,” he replied, already halfway out the door.
“Kids,” Bill joked, shaking his head.
“So, how’d it really go?” Wendy inquired.
“It really did go fine,” he replied sincerely. “Better than expected, honestly.”
“But?”
Bill sat on the edge of the desk.
“I guess I still feel…uneasy about the situation with Brian. How would it look if the FBI found out my kid was involved in a murder.”
“But he wasn’t, Bill. They concluded he wasn’t responsible. It’s on the record.”
“I know. And I know that logically he thought the cross was a good idea,” he admitted. “I just don’t feel good about it. And now I can’t even keep an eye on him. I don’t know if he’s still wetting the bed. Or if he’s started sucking his thumb again, or if he’s spoken at all.”
Wendy offered him a sympathetic smile.
“From what you’ve told me, it seems likely that the regressions are a result of the traumatic experience. Nothing more.”
“I just feel so helpless.”
They sat in silence, neither knowing what else to say.
“If there’s anything I can do,” Wendy offered.
“Thanks. Really. I’m glad you’re around.”
Bill got up to leave.
Wendy passed by the fax machine on the way back to her office and picked up the pages of the profile Holden faxed to Alaska. She scanned the page, then stopped.
That little-
There was a knock.
“All by your lonesome, Dr. Carr?”
“Not anymore,” Wendy muttered under her breath.
She turned around to see Gunn standing in the doorway.
“I don’t know if Bill had a chance to mention it to you,” he said, making his way over to her.
“He did.”
“Good. HR has a standard secretary job posting. I’ll have them send it your way and you can let them know if there’s anything to be added. I trust you to select the applicants and conduct the interviews, but I need to sign off on the hire.”
“Isn’t this something that HR can handle on their own?”
“They don’t know what it’s like in the BSU. The intricacies of your operations. You’re the expert on that.”
She straightened her posture and folded her arms.
“You were involved in hiring Agent Smith, weren’t you?” he added, taking a few steps forward, closing the gap between them.
“Yes, but that was different,” she explained. “He’s actively involved in our work.”
“And so will the woman you hire.” She fought hard not to roll her eyes. “I thought you’d want to have a hand in who joins this team, Dr. Carr.”
“That’s -” she started, then stopped.
She took a breath.
“I feel that my time would be better spent focusing on our research,” she explained.
“And this is part of that,” Gunn stated confidently. “Everything that happens in this basement is. And beyond. All the cogs in the machine have to be well oiled and working together.”
His tone was final and his feet were already headed towards the door.
“Let me know if you haven’t gotten anything by the end of the week,” he added, already halfway out the door.
The phone rang, as if on cue.
She walked away, letting the sound echo in the empty room.
Wendy was in the break room getting her third coffee of the day when Holden returned from his errand.
“Hey, is there enough left for me?” he asked, preemptively grabbing a paper cup.
Wendy continued pouring coffee into her cup until the pot was empty. Holden looked at her cup, full to the brim. She picked it up carefully and took a sip from the top, looking Holden square in the eyes, before walking past him back to the office.
He stood there for a few seconds, stunned, before following her.
“Hey,” he called, just as she was about to enter her office.
Wendy turned around, unimpressed.
“Did I miss something?” Holden asked.
She was amused by his question, but not happy.
“Yes, Holden,” she said with more than a hint of condescension. “You missed a significant portion of my professional opinion in the Alaska profile.”
He thought for a moment, trying to remember what she could have been referring to.
“The military thing?” Her look confirmed his guess. “I thought we agreed he didn’t fit the military description.”
“I very clearly stated that it was very likely he did work at the air base.”
“Yes, but then I said I disagreed and you dropped it, so-”
“So, you took that to mean I conceded.”
“Well…”
She’d had it.
Gregg, who took notice of their dispute, removed his headphones to spectate properly, albeit discreetly.
“Look,” Holden said in a softer voice. “I don’t want to argue.”
“If you can’t tell the difference between a rational discussion and an argument-”
“Do you want me to call them?” he interrupted. “Tell them we made a mistake and we’ll send a new assessment?”
Wendy weighed this option briefly.
“No,” she concluded. “The damage is done. It won’t look good if we change our mind unless we’ve been presented with new information.”
Holden exhaled loudly. She stared him down. It didn’t appear that he’d learned this lesson.
“What’s done is done,” she added.
She retired to her office, closing the door firmly behind her.
Gregg looked up at Holden. Holden stared back, trying to think of something to say. His mind drew a blank, and he walked away, shaking his head.
The first thing Wendy did when she got home was pour herself the remainder of her bottle of Pinot Gris. It filled her glass well past the acceptable half-way point, but who was there to judge her.
The second thing she did was check her answering machine. She always tried to do it casually - just a quick glance - as if someone might be watching and think she was neurotic. The little red bulb was dark, as it always was. It seemed like a silly purchase now, slowly gathering dust like her love life.
She took a large sip of wine and opened the fridge. It was sparse. There was half a carton of eggs, an opened container of hummus, a three inch block of cheddar, and a nearly empty carton of milk next to a half full carton of orange juice. The crisper contained a bruised apple, two oranges, and a few stalks of celery.
Unmoved by her options, Wendy opened the cupboard only to find a bag of dried apricots where there would normally be cans of tuna. She once again opened the fridge and took out the cheese, an orange, and two of the celery stalks. From the cupboard, she took out the dried apricots as well as a box of crackers from the one next to it. She sliced the cheese and arranged it carefully on a plate next to a matching number of crackers. Next to the crackers was the celery, cut into sticks, followed by orange wedges and a handful of dried apricots completing the circle. She scribbled down “tuna” and “milk” on the notepad pinned to the fridge before bringing her dinner to the living room.
Wendy settled into her usual chair, curled her feet up, and turned on the television. It was quarter to the hour, right in the middle of any half-hour show and too near the end of a full hour program. She flicked channels through twice before stopping on an episode of Wheel of Fortune, which promptly went to a commercial break.
She took a bite of one of the celery sticks only to find it bitter. It hadn’t looked spoiled from the outside, but it’s hard to tell sometimes. She tossed the stick back onto her plate and grabbed an apricot to cleanse her palate. Much better.
A man from Sarasota made it to the final round, but couldn’t guess the puzzle. Wendy got it in four seconds. When the episode ended, she turned off the television and brought her briefcase back to her chair. She pulled out the file she brought home on John Wayne Gacy. The Killer Clown.
Gacy’s mug shot was more unique than most. He was looking away from the camera, off to the side, and smiling. It was as if he was having a pleasant conversation with one of the officers when they snapped his picture. He didn’t look nice per se, however he wasn’t glistening with sweat. This wasn’t surprising though, considering he admitted he knew he was going to be arrested. And he confessed willingly, although it was only after police had found the remains in his crawl space.
Wendy read through the details of the first convicted murder, Timothy McCoy - formerly known as the “Greyhound Bus Boy”. Gacy had left a family party to go look at a display of ice sculptures, then decided to lure the 16-year-old to his car from the Chicago Greyhound Bus Terminal. He was on his way to Omaha from Nebraska. Gacy drove him around Chicago, showed him the sights, then back to his house where he told McCoy he could stay the night. He even offered him a ride to the station in the morning in time to catch his next bus. According to Gacy, he woke up early in the morning to see McCoy standing in his bedroom doorway with a knife. Gacy got out of bed and charged at McCoy, who raised his hands in surrender, still holding the knife. It cut Gacy’s arm in the panic. Gacy, who was much larger than McCoy, wrestled the knife from him and banged his head against the wall. Gacy kicked him multiple times. He wrestled him to the ground, straddled him, and stabbed him repeatedly. Then, Gacy claims he cleaned the knife in the bathroom. When he went into the kitchen, he found an open carton of eggs and a slab of bacon, unsliced, on the table, which was set for two.
This poor boy just wanted to make him breakfast, as a thank you, and he died for it. All because he didn’t leave the knife in the kitchen.
Wendy swirled the remainder of her drink in her glass, then held her hand steady and watched the wine continue to swirl and splash around the curves, briefly gaining momentum before slowing to a soft ripple.
Maybe Gacy would have killed him anyways. Maybe he never meant to drive him to the station that morning. Maybe McCoy was always meant to end up in Gacy’s crawl space, covered in concrete.
She took a sip and turned the page.
#op*#mindhunter#mindhunteredit#mindhunter fic#a tide in a city#wendy carr#bill tench#holden ford#ted gunn#gregg smith
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Way of Kings Reread
This is my post Rhythm of War reread so if you don’t want spoilers for Rhythm of War then come back later. These are essentially just the notes I took during this read through so things like “Szeth is darkeyed” isn’t really stellar commentary but there are a few interesting things in here. Also this reread was like…very sporadic so I probably missed things.
“A man with a long grey and black beard slumped in the doorway, smiling foolishly—though whether from wine or a weak mind, Szeth could not tell.
‘Have you seen me?’ the man asked with slurred speech. He laughed then began to speak in gibberish, reaching for a wineskin.”—Page 23
Oh god, it’s Jezrien. Nooooo.
I’m curious to see how Humans being voidbringers plays into Szeth’s punishment.
“Occasionally, light would flash without the thunder. The slaves would groan in terror at this, thinking about the Stormfather, the shades of the Lost Radiants, or the Voidbringers—all of which were said to haunt the most violent highstorms.”
Interesting that they’re called the “shades”, perhaps referring to cognitive shadows?
“Talenelat’Elin, bearer of all agonies.”
Wait…do people know about Taln?
“This room is called the Veil…That which comes before the Palanaeum itself. Both were here when the city was founded. Some think these chambers might have been cut by the Dawnsingers themselves.”
First of all, Veil, haha. Second, interesting bit of lore.
“Thaylens had their own systems of rank.”
I’d like to know what it is.
It’s very interesting that philosophy and history are feminine arts and yet the merchant is still trying to sell Shallan on a romance novel
I wonder if Yalb still has his drawing. It was probably ruined so that sucks.
“There, she used all her remaining sphere to fill of all nine colors and all three sizes.”
Hmmmmmmmm. Nine and three. Interesting
“Then he’d have someone to talk to in Damnation. They could reminisce about how terrible Bridge Four had been, and agree that eternal fires were much more pleasant.”
K…Kaladin please don’t joke about that.
“His ways were odd—though Lirin made certain that his son didn’t mix up the Heralds and the Lost Radiants, Kal had heard his father say that he thought the Voidbringers weren’t real. Ridiculous.”
RIP
“He reached the base of the slop, wind-driven rain pelting his face as if trying to shove him back toward the camp.”
Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
“She looked exhausted. ‘These things are heavy!’ She lifted the leaf. ‘I brought it for you!’”
I love her so much I could cry.
Szeth is a dark eyed.
We need to get the void sphere back.
“It was fairly ordinary, a simple piece of rock with a few quartz crystals set into it and a rusty vein of iron on one side.”
Iron.
“‘Today,’ King Elhokar announced, riding beneath the bright open sky, ‘is an excellent day to slay a god. Wouldn’t you say’”
Owwwwwwwwww my heart
“One might say that gods, as a rule, should fear the Althei nobility. Most of us at least.”
Y’know…Sadeas has a point
Actually they should probably fear Taravangian.
Sadeas wears red plate. I always imagine him in green.
Shardplate is naturally slate gray. I wonder if it’s the same color as what your limbs go if they’re cut by a shardblade. Hmmmm.
“Adolin found himself wishing, passionately, that his father would do a little more these days to live up to that reputation.”
Adolin, sweet pie, NO
I miss Elhokar so much
Also the Thrill of Contest, that’s interesting.
“I felt like a youth again, chasing after your father on some ridiculous challenge.”
Dalinar, we all know that it was Gavilar chasing you
“There was someone watching me in the darkness that night.”
My poor baby…
“‘I defy you, creature!’ Elhokar screamed. ‘I claim your life! They will see their gods crushed, just as they will see their king dead at my feet! I defy you!’”
Elhokar…
“Adolin—stalwart as always—had dismounted beside the king. He tried to stop the claws, striking at them as they fell. Unfortunately, there were four claws and only one of Adolin.”
Hmmmm, Adolin v 4 is becoming a pattern.
“Dalinar should have been there to defend him. Only two things remained of his beloved brother, two things that Dalinar could protect in a hope to earn some form of redemption: Gavilar’s kingdom and Gavilar’s son.”
Ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
“Let me first assure you that the element is quite safe. I have found a good home for it. I protect its safety like I protect my own skin, you might say.”
It has been ten years and I still have no idea what this means.
“Kaladin punched Moash right in the gut, where he knew it would wind him. Moash gasped in shock, doubling over, and Kaladin stepped forward to grab him by the legs, slinging Moash over his shoulder.”
Ahhhhh I could read this paragraph over and over again.
“He worked himself ragged. In fact, he felt close to collapsing several times, but every time he did, he found a reserve of strength from somewhere.”
I wonder where.
“Rockbuds had opened nearby, their vines reaching out to lap up the beast’s blood.”
Gross.
Insult his son and the Blackthorn will peek through
“I had…things to be about.”
I don’t like the way Wit said that.
“You going to do Alethkar a favor and rid it of both of us?”
That is a very interesting line for Wit to say…Also concerning. Wit what are you up to?
It’s very interesting that without Sadeas and Gavilar, Dalinar has to learn how to be a politician. It’s clear that both men maneuver others while Dalinar is blunt force. Good character development, I really love it as a political scientist.
“Brother, follow the Codes tonight. There is something strange upon the winds.”
Hmmmmmmmmm, I think Gavilar was planning his death.
“We’d protect Gavilar’s son. No matter what the cost, no matter what other things came between us, we would protect Elhokar.”
…Would…Elhokar have died if Sadeas was still alive?
“The book was used by the Radiants as a kind of guidebook, a book of counsel on how to live their lives.”
That…something that I forgot. Dalinar maybe you should have some required reading in your Radiant generation.
It’s interesting that Shardplate and Rsyhadium have no problem with humans using them but shardblades do.
“Dalinar was shocked that he could remember the story word for word,”
Hmmmmmm
“Could he train himself out of freezing in battle like that?”
End me.
“You sure he’s not decayspren wearing a man’s skin?”
S…Syl…is that a problem we have to deal with?
“They break the land itself! They want it, but in their rage they will destroy it. Like the jealous man burns his rich things rather than let them be taken by his enemies! They come!”
The…humans?
“‘Hm,’ he said. ‘Yes. We’ll be getting right to that soon. It’ll be grand. Lots of prancing, sauntering, and er…’
‘Promenading?’ Yis the leatherworker offered.
‘Isn’t that a type of drink?’ Adolin asked.
‘Er, no, Brightlord. I’m fairly certain it’s another word for walking.’
‘Well, then,’ Adolin said. ‘We’ll do plenty of it too. Promenading. I always love a good promenading.’”
He and Shallan are truly made for each other.
“Highprince Aladar has begun to talk of taking a short vacation back to Althekar. I want to know if he’s serious.”
Oh?
It’s very interesting how Gavilar after death is portrayed as having grown weak and yet there’s so much reverence for him.
Three gods, huh?
It’s interesting that Dalinar can feel the thrill in these visions.
“It was a topaz entwined with a heliodor, both set into a fine metal framework, each stone as big as a man’s hand.”
Is that some kind of fabrial? Is she an edgedancer/truthwatcher? She seemed to have Stoneward shardplate. How confusing. I guess she could have borrowed Shardplate.
DABBID MY SON!
“‘Next time it could be you!’ he called. ‘What will you do if you’re the one that needs healing?’
‘I’ll die.’ Moash said, not even bothering to look back. ‘Out on the field, quickly, rather than back here over a week’s time.’”
Oh that would be so unfortunate.
REREADING THIS BOOK WITH THE TEFT SECTIONS OH OHHHHHHHHH BOY SUFFERING. LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE
“I was under the impression that you were going to aid the queen in protecting the king’s interests in Alethkar.”
That is interesting to think about. What would have happened in Navani had stayed in Alethkar? Did the Unmade compel Navani to go? Or would she have been under the influence of the Unmade?
“I have determined that the queen is sufficiently endowed with the requisite skills needed to hold Alethkar.”
Uhhhhhhhhhh
“‘Well, I suppose that’s all right,’ she said. ‘I kind of trust Sadeas.’”
Interesting. Also my son, my love, Elhokar...you are so dumb.
“‘You still argue he isn’t a bad king?’ Navani whispered. ‘My poor, distracted, oblivious boy.’”
HE COULD HAVE BEEN GREAT
Ishar is the herald of luck?
WAIT ROION! TURTLE MAN! My baby!
My god I sometimes forget that Dalinar has no fucking chill and no impulse control.
“The Almighty himself depended on the Alethi to train themselves in honorable battle so that when they died, they could join the Heralds’ army and win back the Tranquiline Halls.”
Is that…Honor’s influence or Odium’s? Or has Odium corrupted this idea? Because judging by Rhythm of War, Odium’s end goal was to raise an army from Roshar and then send them across the Cosmere.
“My sense of honor makes me easy to manipulate.”
Whaaaaaat? You Dalinar. Pffttttt Noooooo. Pfffftttttt.
“‘He is well, though you presence here is sorely missed. I’m certain he could use your counsel. He is relying heavily on Brightness Lalai to act as clerk.’
Perhaps that would make Jasnah return. There was little love lost between herself and Sadeas’s cousin, who was the king’s head scribe in he queen’s absence.”
First, there’s another Sadeas we must deal with besides Sadeas’s nephew that I’m sure will be around in arc 2. Second, interesting wonder where that drama stems from.
“They may be a little too stable. The world is changing outside, but the Shin seem determined to remain the same.”
Hmmmmmmmmmm
“Gavarah hadn’t reached her twentieth Weeping when she proposed the theory of the three realms.”
WHOA WHOA WHOA WHOA WHOA WHOA. Lemme hear this theory, my dude.
“He reminds me of my uncle Dalinar. Earnest, sincere, concerned.” “We could do with more men like Taravangian,”
I…mmm….aw man…I…that’ll be a yikes for me.
“He found a half-finished bridge. It had eventually grown out of that one plank Kaladin had used.”
ASODFKJSLDFJSLDF JUST LIKE THE FOURTH BRIDGE
“Had something moved in the darkness?”
His spren?
“‘Roshone lets them know he finds them contemptible. And so they scramble to please him.
‘That makes no sense,’ Kal said.
‘It is the way of things,’ Lirin said, playing with one of the spheres on the table, rolling it beneath his fingers. ‘You’ll have to learn this, Kal. When men perceive the world as being right, we are content. But if we see a hole—a deficiency—we scramble to fill it.”
This feels like how Lirin is acting in Rhythm of War.
Y’know it really makes sense why Kabsal would be working for Thaidakar.
Is…Kabsal attempting to get Shallan to join the Ghostbloods? Rhythm of War makes me wonder how honest Kabsal was towards Shallan. Yeah, Jasnah thought Kabsal was just manipulating her but she didn’t say how she knew this.
“He smiled, then drew the bow across the edge of the metal plate, making it vibrate. The sand hopped and bounced, like tiny insects dropped onto something hot.
‘This,’ he said, ‘is called cymatics. The study of pattern that sounds make when interactive with a physical medium.’
As he drew the bow again, the plate made a sound, almost a pure note. It was actually enough to draw a single music spren, which spun for a moment in the air above him, then vanished. Kabsal finished, then gestured to the plate with a flourish.”
Well, Rhythm of War certainly made this more interesting.
“Bridgemen aren’t supposed to survive. There’s something about that. He wouldn’t be able to ask Lamaril. That man had gotten what he deserved, though. If Kaladin had the ability to choose, such would be the end of all lighteyes, the king included.
Your inner Moash is showing.
“I want you to go back into the barrack and tell the men to come out after the storm. Tell them to look up at me tied here. Tell them I’ll open my eyes and look back at them, and they’ll know that I survived.”
No wonder a religion might be forming around Kaladin.
“Teft lingered too, as if thinking to spend the storm with Kaladin. He eventually shook his head, muttering and joined the others. Kaladin thought he heard the man calling himself a coward.”—Page 517
Brandon Sanderson, leave me the fuck alone.
“‘Taking the Dawnsahrds, known to bind any creature voidish or mortal, he crawled up the steps crafted for Heralds, ten strides tall apiece, toward the grand temple above.’—From The Poem of Ista. I have found no modern explanation of what these ‘Dawnshards’ are. They seem ignored by scholars, though talk of them was obviously prevalent among those recording the early mythologies.”—Page 524
Wait…who’s he? And aw man this becomes more relevant in a few years.
“‘Then you’re not a murderer,’ Kaladin said.
‘Not for want of trying.’ Sigzil eyes grew distant. ‘I thought for certain I succeeded. It was not the wisest choice I made. My master…’
‘Is he the one you tried to kill?’
‘No.’”
We need some backstory.
Marabethia sounds similar to Twitter.
“It claimed that humming of all things, could make a Soulcasting more effective.”
Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
“That isn’t the kind of thing the Dawnsingers did. They were healers, kindly spren by the Almighty to care for humans once were forced out of the Tranquiline Halls.”
Is…that right?
“‘We believe that the Voidbringers were real, Shallan. A scourge and plague.. A hundred times they came upon mankind. First casting us from the Tanquiline Halls, then trying to destroy us here on Roshar. They weren’t just spren that hid under rocks, then came out to steal someone’s laundry. They were creatures of terrible destructive power, forged in Damnation creature from hate.’
‘By whom?’ Shallan asked.
‘What?’
‘Who made them? I mean, the Almighty wasn’t likely to have ‘created something from hate.’ So what made them?’
‘Everything has its opposite, Shallan. The Almighty is a force of good. To balance his goodness, the cosmere needed the Voidbringers as his opposite.’”—Pages 634-635
Thaidakar’s reveal really makes Kabsal a more…suspicious character. Like how much does he actually know? How much does Thaidakar actually know? Also, I don’t know if Odium is the opposite of Honor. I guess we’d need all 16 shards names to compare.
“A city where people lived in gigantic, hollowed out stalactites hanging beneath a titanic sheltered ridge.”
EXCUSE ME WHAT
“‘I doubt many would disagree. But I mention these horrors for a purpose. You see, it has been my experience that no matter where you go, you will find some who abuse their power.’ He shrugged. ‘Eye color is not so odd a method, compared to many others I have seen. If you were to overthrow the lighteyes and place yourselves in power, Moash, I doubt that the world would be a very different place. The abuses would still happen. Simply to other people.’
Kaladin nodded slowly, but Moash shook his head. ‘No I’d change the world, Sigzil. And I mean to.’”
Hmmm, yeah that didn’t exactly work out.
“‘That makes you wiser, presumably?’
‘Damnation no,’ Teft said. ‘The only thing it proves is that I’ve more experience staying alive than you.’”
Brandon. Leave. Me. Alone.
“Cenn stopped wheezing. He convulsed once, eyes still open. ‘He watches!’ the boy hissed. ‘The black piper in the night. He holds us in his palm…playing a tune that no man can hear!’”—Page 671
Is…is that a reference to El?
“I’m sorry I drove you to suicide. Here’s some bread.”
How people on this website think Moash’s redemption arch is gonna go.
“‘…why Thaidakar would risk this?’ Amaram was saying, speaking in a soft voice. ‘But who else would it be? The Ghostbloos grow more bold.’”—Page 701
Jasnah was complaining last chapter how she hates being wrong but she was wrong about Shallan’s intentions and that Amaram is not as smart as he seems. Yeah, he’s wrong about who sent the shardbearer to kill him but if I was in the cosmere and someone tried to kill me, I would assume it was Thaidakar. On that note, holy fuck, I need to know what conversation prompted both Gavilar and Amaram to assume that someone trying to kill them had to be Thaidakar. I really hope that Gavilar’s pov is next for KOWT for his death so maybe we could get a conversation where they talk to Thaidakar through cube skype or maybe this avatar (whatever the hell that means.) God Rhythm of War makes this scene so much funnier.
“You’d have changed your mind. In a day or two, you’d have wanted the wealth and prestige—otehrs would have convinced you of it. You’d have demanded that I return them to you. It took hours to decide, but Restares is right—this is what must be done. For the good of Alethkar.”—Page 703
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa—this is why we reread—aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa Kaladin is going to have some words with Restares.
What happened to Baxil and Av?
?????????????????????????? Why do these two Ardents know about the Physical/Cognitive/Spiritual realm?
“Eight weeks? Forty days of winter at once? That war rare.”—Page 728
Did the weather used to be more consistent on Roshar?
Oh god Rhythm of War has made the Recreance so hard to read.
“If I abandon my principles, then I become something far worse than they. A hypocrite.”—Page 741
A hypocrite is a just a man changing or something. I forget the quote.
“Have you been paying much attention to the conflict between the Tukari and the Emuli?”—Page 753
“And the Tukari are led by that god-priest of theirs, Tezim.”—Page 754
Look at the foreshadowing.
“‘Just as Hatham wishes his partner in negotiations to know of his goodwill, I wish you to know of our goodwill toward you, Brightlord.’
Dalinar frowned. He’d never had much to do with the ardents—his devotary was simple and straightforward. Dalinar got his fill of politics with the court; he had little desire to find more religion. ‘Why? What should it matter if I have goodwill toward you?’
The ardent smiled. ‘We will speak with you again.’ He bowed low and withdrew.”—Pages 756-757
OKAY AT FIRST I THOUGHT THIS WAS FUNNY BECAUSE THE ARDENTS GET VERY MIFFED AT DALINAR IN OATHBRINGER BUT “we” HOLY SHIT THAT’S ONE OF BUG PEOPLE NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
I can imagine why this bug man wants his goodwill because they’re pretty sure he’ll destroy them.
“‘This thing will not happen,’ Rock said. ‘Is impossible to get sphere out of the chasms.’
‘We could swallow them,’ Moash said.
‘You would choke. Spheres are too big, eh?’
‘I’ll better I could do it,’ Moash said. His eyes glittering, reflecting the verdant Stormlight. ‘That’s more money than I’ve ever seen. It’s worth the risk.’”—Page 766
I swear to god, one of these days Moash is going to swallow a sphere.
“You call him the Stormfather, here in Alethkar.”
So people in Alethkar think that Jezerin and the Stormfather are the same person?
“Light grows so distant. The storm never stops. I am broken, and all around me have died. I weep for the end of all things. He has won. Oh, he has beaten us.”
O…Oh man, I hope this isn’t foreshadowing for KOWT.
“We should have expected this, Dalinar thought. We started bringing two armies to a plateau, so they have done the same.”—Page 781
Interesting that Kaladin thought about this when fighting the Fused by Dalinar didn’t fighting the Listeners
“When other men failed, a field of crops got worms in them. When a surgeon failed someone died.”
Well…if your crops fail then you could very much cause a town to starve to death.
“Though there was one thing he clung to. An excuse, perhaps, like the dead emperor. It was the soul of the wretch. Apathy. The belief that nothing was his fault, the belief that he couldn’t change anything. If a man was cursed, or believe he didn’t have to care, then he didn’t need to hurt when he failed. Those failures couldn’t have been prevented. Someone or something else had ordained them.”
Those are some fucking foils right there.
“They watch me. Always. Waiting. I see their face in mirrors. Symbols, twisted, inhuman…”
Babbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbby
“I wish to sleep. I know now why you do what you do, and I hate you for it. I will not speak of the truths I see.”
The sibling?
“I’d surrendered my plans, but you’ve returned them to me. I’ll guard you with my life, Kaladin. I swear it to you, by the blood of my fathers.”—Page 881
MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM
LISTEN I KNOW ELHOKAR IS AN IDIOT BUT HE’S MY IDIOT
“The further you look, the more pieces that wind breaks into.”—Page 995
That’s interesting
“A champion could work well for you, but it is not certain. And…without the Dawnshards…”—Page 997
Well, we’ll see how Rysn plays into this.
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So I asked this question Earlier. Do you think that Katniss was in love with Gale the romantic way.
Easy answer no. I do beileve she loved him as you love her friends. But there were just no sparks there. Okay this will be a super long thing. I’ll add all chapters and pages below
Lets dig into this.
So at the start of the book they meet up in the woods on the day of the reaping This is Katniss Discribing Gale ( This is after they talk about running away Katniss blurts out I am never having kids, Eating bakery bread Gale said he would have kids ect...
Chapter 1 Page 10 The hunger Games
This Conversation feels all wrong Leave? How could I leave Prim, Who is the only person in the world I’m certain I love? And Gale who is Devoted to his Family. We can’t Leave, so why bother talking about it? And if we did... even if we did... where did this stuff about having kids come from? There’s NEVER been anything romantic between Gale and me. When we met, I was a skinny 12 year old and although he was only two years older. He already looked like a man. It took a long time for us to even become friends, to stop haggling over every trade and begin helping each other out.
Besides if he wanted Kids, Gale won’t have any trouble finding a wife. He’s good-looking, he’s strong enough to handle the work in the mines, and he can hunt. You can tell by the way girls whisper about him when he walks by in school that they want him. It makes me jealous but not for the reason people would think. Good hunting partners are hard to find.
Page 38- 40 Chapter 3 The hunger Games
( Now this is when Katniss is saying goodbyes and Gale says goodbye)
Finally Gale is here and maybe there is nothing Romantic between us, but when he opens his arms . I don’t hesitate to go into the. His body is familiar to me- the way it moves, the smell of wood and smoke, even the sound of his heart beating I know from quiet moments on a hunt- but this is the first time I really feel it, lean and hard-muscled against my own.
"Katniss, it's just hunting. You're the best hunter I know," says Gale.
"It's not just hunting. They're armed. They think," I say.
"So do you. And you've had more practice. Real practice," he says. "You know how to kill."
"Not people," I say.
"How different can it be, really?" says Gale grimly.
The awful thing is that if I can forget they're people, it will be no different at all.
The Peacekeepers are back too soon and Gale asks for more time, but they're taking him away and I start to panic. "Don't let them starve!" I cry out, clinging to his hand.
"I won't! You know I won't! Katniss, remember I - " he says, and they yank us apart and slam the door and I'll never know what it was he wanted me to remember.
Pages 109 to 112 Chapter 8 The Hunger Games
When they first met. Please note this is Before Peeta confessed his Love for Katniss.
I had been struggling along on my own for about six
months when I first ran into Gale in the woods. It was a Sun-
day in October, the air cool and pungent with dying things. I’d
spent the morning competing with the squirrels for nuts and
the slightly warmer afternoon wading in shallow ponds har-
vesting katniss. The only meat I’d shot was a squirrel that had
practically run over my toes in its quest for acorns, but the an-
imals would still be afoot when the snow buried my other
food sources. Having strayed farther afield than usual, I was
hurrying back home, lugging my burlap sacks when I came
across a dead rabbit. It was hanging by its neck in a thin wire a
foot above my head. About fifteen yards away was another. I
recognized the twitch-up snares because my father had used
them. When the prey is caught, it’s yanked into the air out of
the reach of other hungry animals. I’d been trying to use
snares all summer with no success, so I couldn’t help dropping
my sacks to examine this one. My fingers were just on the wire
above one of the rabbits when a voice rang out. “That’s dangerous.”
I jumped back several feet as Gale materialized from be-
hind a tree. He must have been watching me the whole time.
He was only fourteen, but he cleared six feet and was as good
as an adult to me. I’d seen him around the Seam and at school.
And one other time. He’d lost his father in the same blast that
killed mine. In January, I’d stood by while he received his
medal of valor in the Justice Building, another oldest child
with no father. I remembered his two little brothers clutching
his mother, a woman whose swollen belly announced she was
just days away from giving birth.
“What’s your name?” he said, coming over and disengaging
the rabbit from the snare. He had another three hanging from
his belt.
“Katniss,” I said, barely audible.
“Well, Catnip, stealing’s punishable by death, or hadn’t you
heard?” he said.
“Katniss,” I said louder. “And I wasn’t stealing it. I just
wanted to look at your snare. Mine never catch anything.”
He scowled at me, not convinced. “So where’d you get the
squirrel?”
“I shot it.” I pulled my bow off my shoulder. I was still using
the small version my father had made me, but I’d been practic-
ing with the full-size one when I could. I was hoping that by
spring I might be able to bring down some bigger game.
Gale’s eyes fastened on the bow. “Can I see that?” I handed
it over. “Just remember, stealing’s punishable by death.”
That was the first time I ever saw him smile. It transformed
him from someone menacing to someone you wished you
knew. But it took several months before I returned that smile.
We talked hunting then. I told him I might be able to get
him a bow if he had something to trade. Not food. I wanted
knowledge. I wanted to set my own snares that caught a belt
of fat rabbits in one day. He agreed something might be
worked out. As the seasons went by, we grudgingly began to
share our knowledge, our weapons, our secret places that
were thick with wild plums or turkeys. He taught me snares
and fishing. I showed him what plants to eat and eventually
gave him one of our precious bows. And then one day, without
either of us saying it, we became a team. Dividing the work
and the spoils. Making sure that both our families had food.
Gale gave me a sense of security I’d lacked since my father’s
death. His companionship replaced the long solitary hours in
the woods. I became a much better hunter when I didn’t have
to look over my shoulder constantly, when someone was
watching my back. But he turned into so much more than a
hunting partner. He became my confidante, someone with
whom I could share thoughts I could never voice inside the
fence. In exchange, he trusted me with his. Being out in the
woods with Gale . . . sometimes I was actually happy.
I call him my friend, but in the last year it’s seemed too ca-
sual a word for what Gale is to me. A pang of longing shoots
through my chest. If only he was with me now! But, of course,
I don’t want that. I don’t want him in the arena where he’d bedead in a few days. I just . . . I just miss him. And I hate being so alone. Does he miss me? He must.
I think of the eleven flashing under my name last night. I
know exactly what he’d say to me. “Well, there’s some room
for improvement there.” And then he’d give me a smile and I’d
return it without hesitating now.
I can’t help comparing what I have with Gale to what I’m
pretending to have with Peeta. How I never question Gale’s
motives while I do nothing but doubt the latter’s. It’s not a fair
comparison really. Gale and I were thrown together by a mu-
tual need to survive. Peeta and I know the other’s survival
means our own death. How do you sidestep that?
Now through out the Games Katniss does Question How Gale would feel about all this like the Kissing, The being in love with Peeta for an act. ( only everyone knows it’s aha not an act.)
Catching Fire.
Catching Fire Chaper 1 Page 9.
Basically saying how painful It was for Gale to see his best friend in love with someone else.
Hazelle nods “ That’d be good. Gale means to, but he’s only got his Sundays. and I think he likes saving those for you” I Can’t stop the redness that floods my cheeks. It’s stupid. of course. Hardly anybody knows me Better then Hazelle. Knows the bond I share with Gale. I’m sure plenty of people assumed that we’d eventually get married even if I never gave it any thought. But that was before the Games. Before my fellow tribute, Peeta Mellark , announced he was madly in love with me, Our romance became a key strategy for Peeta. I’m not sure what it was for me. But I know now it was nothing put painful for Gale. My chest tightens as I think about how. on the Victory Tour. Peeta and I will have to present ourselves as lovers again.
Catching Fire Chapter 2 Pages 23- 28.
Now this is when Snow basically tells Katniss he can kill Gale and that Katniss goes into the kiss ( the surprise one)
"Peeta. How is the love of your life?" he asks. "Good," I say.
"At what point did he realize the exact degree of your indifference?" he asks, dipping his cookie in his tea. "I'm not indifferent," I say.
"But perhaps not as taken with the young man as you would have the country believe," he says. "Who says I'm not?" I say.
"I do," says the president. "And I wouldn't be here if I were the only person who had doubts. How's the handsome cousin?"
"I don't know ... I don't ..." My revulsion at this conversation, at discussing my feelings for two of the people I care most about with President Snow, chokes me off.
"Speak, Miss Everdeen. Him I can easily kill off if we don't come to a happy resolution," he says. "You aren't doing him a favor by disappearing into the woods with him each Sunday."
If he knows this, what else does he know? And how does he know it? Many people could tell him that Gale and I spend our Sundays hunting. Don't we show up at the end of each one loaded down with game? Haven't we for years? The real question is what he thinks goes on in the woods beyond District 12. Surely they haven't been tracking us in there. Or have they? Could we have been followed? That seems impossible. At least by a person. Cameras? That never crossed my mind until this moment. The woods have always been our place of safety, our place beyond the reach of the Capitol, where we're free to say what we feel, be who we are. At least before the Games. If we've been watched since, what have they seen? Two people hunting, saying treasonous things against the Capitol, yes. But not two people in love, which seems to be President Snow's implication. We are safe on that charge. Unless ... unless ...
It only happened once. It was fast and unexpected, but it did happen.
After Peeta and I got home from the Games, it was several weeks before I saw Gale alone. First there were the obligatory celebrations. A banquet for the victors that only the most high-ranking people were invited to. A holiday for the whole district with free food and entertainers brought in from the Capitol. Parcel Day, the first of twelve, in which food packages were delivered to every person in the district. That was my favorite. To see all those hungry kids in the Seam running around, waving cans of applesauce, tins of meat, even candy. Back home, too big to carry, would be bags of grain, cans of oil. To know that once a month for a year they would all receive another parcel. That was one of the few times I actually felt good about winning the Games.
So between the ceremonies and events and the reporters documenting my every move as I presided and thanked and kissed Peeta for the audience, I had no privacy at all. After a few weeks, things finally died down. The camera crews and reporters packed up and went home. Peeta and I assumed the cool relationship we've had ever since. My family settled into our house in the Victor's Village. The everyday life of District 12 - workers to the mines, kids to school - resumed its usual pace. I waited until I thought the coast was really clear, and then one Sunday, without telling anyone, I got up hours before dawn and took off for the woods.
The weather was still warm enough that I didn't need a jacket. I packed along a bag filled with special foods, cold chicken and cheese and bakery bread and oranges. Down at my old house, I put on my hunting boots. As usual, the fence was not charged and it was simple to slip into the woods and retrieve my bow and arrows. I went to our place, Gale's and mine, where we had shared breakfast the morning of the reaping that sent me into the Games.
I waited at least two hours. I'd begun to think that he'd given up on me in the weeks that had passed. Or that he no longer cared about me. Hated me even. And the idea of losing him forever, my best friend, the only person I'd ever trusted with my secrets, was so painful I couldn't stand it. Not on top of everything else that had happened. I could feel my eyes tearing up and my throat starting to close the way it does when I get upset.
Then I looked up and there he was, ten feet away, just watching me. Without even thinking, I jumped up and threw my arms around him, making some weird sound that combined laughing, choking, and crying. He was holding me so tightly that I couldn't see his face, but it was a really long time before he let me go and then he didn't have much choice, because I'd gotten this unbelievably loud case of the hiccups and had to get a drink.
We did what we always did that day. Ate breakfast. Hunted and fished and gathered. Talked about people in town. But not about us, his new life in the mines, my time in the arena. Just about other things. By the time we were at the hole in the fence that's nearest the Hob, I think I really believed that things could be the same. That we could go on as we always had. I'd given all the game to Gale to trade since we had so much food now. I told him I'd skip the Hob, even though I was looking forward to going there, because my mother and sister didn't even know I'd gone hunting and they'd be wondering where I was.
Then suddenly, as I was suggesting I take over the daily snare run, he took my face in his hands and kissed me.
I was completely unprepared. You would think that after all the hours I'd spent with Gale - watching him talk and laugh and frown - that I would know all there was to know about his lips. But I hadn't imagined how warm they would feel pressed against my own. Or how those hands, which could set the most intricate of snares, could as easily entrap me. I think I made some sort of noise in the back of my throat, and I vaguely remember my fingers, curled tightly closed, resting on his chest. Then he let go and said, "I had to do that. At least once." And he was gone.
Despite the fact that the sun was setting and my family would be worried, I sat by a tree next to the fence. I tried to decide how I felt about the kiss, if I had liked it or resented it, but all I really remembered was the pressure of Gale's lips and the scent of the oranges that still lingered on his skin. It was pointless comparing it with the many kisses I'd exchanged with Peeta. I still hadn't figured out if any of those counted. Finally I went home.
That week I managed the snares and dropped off the meat with Hazelle. But I didn't see Gale until Sunday.
I had this whole speech worked out, about how I didn't want a boyfriend and never planned on marrying, but I didn't end up using it. Gale acted as if the kiss had never happened.
Maybe he was waiting for me to say something. Or kiss him back. Instead I just pretended it had never happened, either. But it had. Gale had shattered some invisible barrier between us and, with it, any hope I had of resuming our old, uncomplicated friendship. Whatever I pretended, I could never look at his lips in quite the same way.
This all flashes through my head in an instant as President Snow's eyes bore into me on the heels of his threat to kill Gale. How stupid I've been to think the Capitol would just ignore me once I'd returned home! Maybe I didn't know about the potential uprisings. But I knew they were angry with me. Instead of acting with the extreme caution the situation called for, what have I done? From the president's point of view, I've ignored Peeta and flaunted my preference for Gale's company before the whole district. And by doing so made it clear I was, in fact, mocking the Capitol. Now I've endangered Gale and his family and my family and Peeta, too, by my carelessness. “Please don't hurt Gale," I whisper. "He's just my friend. He's been my friend for years. That's all that's between us. Besides, everyone thinks we're cousins now."
Chaper 7 Pages 93-101 Catching fire
Basically talking about running away and then Katniss can’t leave Peeta or Haymitch and Gale is angry about that But Prior Gale is happy to run away with her Says He loves her... but HA. ( we all know how that worked out)
Then I sit on the tiny concrete hearth, thawing out by the fire and waiting for Gale.
It's a surprisingly short time before he appears. A bow slung over his shoulder, a dead wild turkey he must have encountered along the way hanging from his belt. He stands in the doorway as if considering whether or not to enter. He holds the unopened leather bag of food, the flask, Cinna's gloves. Gifts he will not accept because of his anger at me. I know exactly how he feels. Didn't I do the same thing to my mother?
I look in his 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. I could take hours trying to explain, and even then have him refuse me. Instead I go straight to the heart of my defense.
"President Snow personally threatened to have you killed," I say.
Gale raises his eyebrows slightly, but there's no real show of fear or astonishment. "Anyone else?"
"Well, he didn't actually give me a copy of the list. But it's a good guess it includes both our families," I say.
It's enough to bring him to the fire. He crouches before the hearth and warms himself. "Unless what?"
"Unless nothing, now," I say. Obviously this requires more of an explanation, but I have no idea where to start, so I just sit there staring gloomily into the fire.
After about a minute of this, Gale breaks the silence. "Well, thanks for the heads-up."
I turn to him, ready to snap, but I catch the glint in his eye. I hate myself for smiling. This is not a funny moment, but I guess it's a lot to drop on someone. We're all going to be obliterated no matter what. "I do have a plan, you know."
"Yeah, I bet it's a stunner," he says. He tosses the gloves on my lap. "Here. I don't want your fiance's old gloves."
"He's not my fiance. 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. He pulls on the gloves, flexes his fingers, and nods in approval. "At least I'll die in comfort."
"That's optimistic. Of course, you don't know what's happened," I say.
"Let's have it," he says.
I decide to begin with the night Peeta and I were crowned victors of the Hunger Games, and Haymitch warned me of the Capitol's fury. I tell him about the uneasiness that dogged me even once I was back home, President Snow's visit to my house, the murders in District 11, the tension in the crowds, the last-ditch effort of the engagement, the president's indication that it hadn't been enough, my certainty that I'll have to pay.
Gale never interrupts. While I talk, he tucks the gloves in his pocket and 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 Capitol erased all marks from my skin, but strong and deft. Hands that have the power to mine coal but the precision to set a delicate snare. Hands I trust.
I pause to take a drink of tea from the flask before I tell him about my homecoming.
"Well, you really made a mess of things," he says. "I'm not even done," I tell him.
"I've heard enough for the moment. Let's skip ahead to this plan of yours," he says.
I take a deep breath. "We run away."
"What?" he asks. This has actually caught him off guard.
"We take to the woods and make a run for it," I say. His face is impossible to read. Will he laugh at me, dismiss this as foolishness? I rise in agitation, preparing for an argument. "You said yourself you thought that we could do it! That morning of the reaping. You said - "
He 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," he says.
"Really? You don't think I'm mad? You'll go with me?" Some of the crushing weight begins to lift as it transfers to Gale's shoulders.
"I do think you're mad and I'll still go with you," he says. He means it. Not only means it but welcomes it. "We can do it. I know we can. Let's get out of here and never come back!"
"You're sure?" I say. "Because it's going to be hard, with the kids and all. I don't want to get five miles into the woods and have you - "
"I'm sure. I'm completely, entirely, one hundred percent sure." He tilts his forehead down to rest against mine and pulls me closer. His skin, his whole being, radiates heat from being so near the fire, and I close my eyes, soaking in his warmth. I breathe in the smell of snow-dampened leather and smoke and apples, the smell of all those wintry days we shared before the Games. I don't try to move away. Why should I, anyway? His voice drops to a whisper. "I love you."
That's why.
I never see these things coming. They happen too fast. One second you're proposing an escape plan and the next... you're expected to deal with something like this. I come up with what must be the worst possible response. "I know."
It sounds terrible. Like I assume he couldn't help loving me but that I don't feel anything in return. Gale starts to draw away, but I grab hold of him. "I know! And you... you know what you are to me." It's not enough. He breaks my grip. "Gale, I can't think about anyone that way now. All I can think about, every day, every waking minute since they drew Prim's name at the reaping, 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." He turns back to the fire, where the chestnuts are beginning to burn. He flips them out onto the hearth. "My mother's going to take some convincing."
I guess he's still going, anyway. But the happiness has fled, leaving an all-too-familiar strain in its place. "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.
"I hope not." The temperature in the house seems to have dropped twenty degrees in a matter of seconds. "Haymitch will be the real challenge."
"Haymitch?" Gale abandons the chestnuts. "You're not 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.
"They'd torture them to death, trying to find out where I was," I say.
"What about Peeta's family? They'll never come. In fact, they probably couldn't wait to inform on us. Which I'm sure he's smart enough to realize. What if he decides to stay?" he 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. "Just if, for instance, I can't convince my mother to drag three young kids into the wilderness in winter."
"Hazelle won't refuse. She'll see sense," I say.
"Suppose she doesn't, Katniss. What then?" he demands.
"Then you have to force her, Gale. Do you think I'm making this stuff up?" My voice is rising in anger as well.
"No. I don't know. Maybe the president's just manipulating you. I mean, he's throwing your wedding. You saw how the Capitol crowd reacted. I don't think he can afford to kill you. Or Peeta. How's he going to get out of that one?" says Gale.
"Well, with an uprising in District Eight, I doubt he's spending much time choosing my wedding cake!" I shout.
The instant the words are out of my mouth I want to reclaim them. Their effect on Gale is immediate - the flush on his cheeks, the brightness of his gray eyes. "There's an uprising in Eight?" he says in a hushed voice.
I try to backpedal. To defuse him, as I tried to defuse the districts. "I don't know if it's really an uprising. There's unrest. People in the streets - " I say.
Gale grabs my shoulders. "What did you see?"
"Nothing! In person. I just heard something." As usual, it's too little, too late. I give up and tell him. "I saw something on the mayor's television. I wasn't supposed to. There was a crowd, and fires, and the Peacekeepers were gunning people down but they were fighting back. ..." I bite my lip and struggle to continue describing the scene. Instead I say aloud the words that have been eating me up inside. "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. There's already been talk in the mines. People who want to fight. Don't you see? It's happening! It's finally happening! If there's an uprising in District Eight, why not here? Why not everywhere? This could be it, the thing we've been - "
"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!" I'm yelling again, but I can't understand why he's doing this. Why doesn't he see what's so undeniable?
Gale pushes me roughly away from him. "You leave, then. I'd never go in a million years."
"You were happy enough to go before. I don't see how an uprising in District Eight does anything but make it more important that we leave. You're just mad about - " No, I can't throw Peeta in his face. "What about your family?"
"What about the other families, Katniss? The ones who can't run away? Don't you see? It can't be about just saving us anymore. Not if the rebellion's begun!" Gale shakes his head, not hiding his disgust with me. "You could do so much." 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.
I sink down next to the fire, desperate for comfort, to work out my next move. I calm myself by thinking that rebellions don't happen in a day. Gale can't talk to the miners until tomorrow. If I can get to Hazelle before then, she might straighten him out. But I can't go now. If he's there, he'll lock me out. Maybe tonight, after everyone else is asleep ... Hazelle often works late into the night finishing up laundry. I could go then, tap at the window, tell her the situation so she'll keep Gale from doing anything foolish
Catching Fire Chapter 8. Pages 115-116
I don't know exactly what my mother means by things starting again, but I'm too angry and hurting to ask. It's registered, though, the idea of worse times returning, because when the doorbell rings, I shoot straight out of bed. Who could it be at this hour of the night? There's only one answer. Peacekeepers.
"They 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.
We all go, though, following her down the hallway to the insistent ring of the bell. When she opens it, there's not a squad of Peacekeepers but a single, snow-caked figure. Madge. She 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. "They're my mother's. She said I could take them. Use them, please." She runs back into the storm before we can stop her.
"Crazy girl," Haymitch mutters as we follow, my mother into the kitchen.
Whatever my mother had given Gale, I was right, it isn't enough. His teeth are gritted and his flesh shines with sweat. My mother fills a syringe with the clear liquid from one of the vials and shoots it into his arm. Almost immediately, his face begins to relax.
"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.
Catching Fire Chaper 8 Pages 116-119
This is after Gales whipping and Did we just whitness Katniss having a mid life crisist at age 17. Because she is like “ Gale is mine I am his bull shit”
Alone in the kitchen with Gale, I sit on Hazelle's stool, holding his hand. After a while, my fingers find his face. I touch parts of him I have never had cause to touch before. His heavy, dark eyebrows, the curve of his cheek, the line of his nose, the hollow at the base of his neck. I trace the outline of stubble on his jaw and finally work my way to his lips. Soft and full, slightly chapped. His breath warms my chilled skin.
Does everyone look younger asleep? Because right now he could be the boy I ran into in the woods years ago, the one who accused me of stealing from his traps. What a pair we were - fatherless, frightened, but fiercely committed, 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 on each other, watching each other's backs, forcing each other to be brave.
For the first time, I reverse our positions in my head. I imagine watching Gale volunteering to save Rory in the reaping, having him torn from my life, becoming some strange girl's lover to stay alive, and then coming home with her. Living next to her. Promising to marry her.
The hatred I feel for him, for the phantom girl, for everything, is so real and immediate that it chokes me. Gale is mine. I am his. Anything else is unthinkable. Why did it take him being whipped within an inch of his life to see it?
Because 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.
I rest my head forward on the edge of the table, overcome with loathing for myself. Wishing I had died in the arena. Wishing Seneca Crane had blown me to bits the way President Snow said he should have when I held out the berries.
The berries. I realize the answer to who I am lies in that handful of 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. The trouble is, I don't know exactly what was going on inside me at that moment.
Could it be the people in the districts are right? That it was an act of rebellion, even if it was an unconscious one? Because, deep down, I must know it isn't enough to keep myself, or my family, or my friends alive by running away. Even if I could. It wouldn't fix anything. It wouldn't stop people from being hurt the way Gale was today.
Life in District 12 isn't really so different from life in the arena. At some point, you have to stop running and turn around and face whoever wants you dead. The hard thing is finding the courage to do it. Well, it's not hard for Gale. He was born a rebel. I'm the one making an escape plan.
"I'm so sorry," I whisper. I lean forward and kiss him.
His eyelashes flutter and he looks at me through a haze of opiates. "Hey, Catnip."
"Hey, Gale," I say.
"Thought you'd be gone by now," he says.
My choices are simple. I can die like quarry in the woods or I can die here beside Gale. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm going to stay right here and cause all kinds of trouble."
"Me, too," Gale says. He just manages a smile before the drugs pull him back under.
Catching fire Chapter 9 Page 120
Someone gives my shoulder a shake and I sit up. I've fallen asleep with my face on the table. The white cloth has left creases on my good cheek. The other, the one that took the lash from Thread, throbs painfully. 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. About what I said yesterday, about running - " I begin.
"I know," he says. "There's nothing to explain."
I see the loaves of bread on the counter in the pale, snowy morning light. The blue shadows under his eyes. I wonder if he slept at all. Couldn't have been long. I think of his agreeing to go with me yesterday, his stepping up beside me to protect Gale, his willingness to throw his lot in with mine entirely when I give him so little in return. No matter what I do, I'm hurting someone. "Peeta - "
"Just go to bed, okay?" he says.
Catching fire Chapter 12 pages 169-170
I'm hoping she's wrong. I haven't had time to prepare Gale for any of this. Since the whipping, I only see him when he comes to the house for my mother to check how he's healing. He's often scheduled seven days a week in the mine. In the few minutes of privacy we've had, with me walking him back to town, I gather that the rumblings of an uprising in 12 have been subdued by Thread's crackdown. He knows I'm not going to run. But he must also know that if we don't revolt in 12, I'm destined to be Peeta's bride. Seeing me lounging around in gorgeous gowns on his television ... what can he do with that?
Catching fire Chapter 13 Pages 178-179
Thanks," I say. I should go see Peeta now, but I don't want to. My head's spinning from the drink, and I'm so wiped out, who knows what he could get me to agree to? No, now I have to go home to face my mother and Prim.
As I stagger up the steps to my house, the front door opens and Gale pulls me into his arms. "I was wrong. We should have gone when you said," he whispers.
"No," I say. I'm having trouble focusing, and liquor keeps sloshing out of my bottle and down the back of Gale's jacket, but he doesn't seem to care.
"It's not too late," he says.
Over his shoulder, I see my mother and Prim clutching each other in the doorway. We run. They die. And now I've got Peeta to protect. End of discussion. "Yeah, it is." My knees give way and he's holding me up. As the alcohol overcomes my mind, I hear the glass bottle shatter on the floor. This seems appropriate since I have obviously lost my grip on everything.
Catching Fire Chaper 13 ( Later on) Pages 185-186
Even Gale steps into the picture on Sundays, although he's got no love for Peeta or Haymitch, and teaches us all he knows about snares. It's weird for me, being in conversations with both Peeta and Gale, but they seem to have set aside whatever issues they have about me.
One night, as I'm walking Gale back into town, he even admits, "It'd be better if he were easier to hate."
"Tell me about it," I say. "If I could've just hated him in the arena, we all wouldn't be in this mess now. He'd be dead, and I'd be a happy little victor all by myself."
"And where would we be, Katniss?" asks Gale.
I pause, not knowing what to say. Where would I be with my pretend cousin who wouldn't be my cousin if it weren't for Peeta? Would he have still kissed me and would I have kissed him back had I been free to do so? Would I have let myself open up to him, lulled by the security of money and food and the illusion of safety being a victor could bring under different circumstances? But there would still always be the reaping looming over us, over our children. No matter what I wanted ...
"Hunting. Like every Sunday," I say. I know he didn't mean the question literally, but this is as much as I can honestly give. Gale knows I chose him over Peeta when I didn't make a run for it. To me, there's no point in talking about things that might have been. Even if I had killed Peeta in the arena, I still wouldn't have wanted to marry anyone. I only got engaged to save people's lives, and that completely backfired.
I'm afraid, anyway, that any kind of emotional scene with Gale might cause him to do something drastic. Like start that uprising in the mines. And as Haymitch says, District 12 isn't ready for that. If anything, they're less ready than before the Quarter Quell announcement, because the following morning another hundred Peacekeepers arrived on the train.
Since I don't plan on making it back alive a second time, the sooner Gale lets me go, the better. I do plan on saying one or two things to him after the reaping, when we're allowed an hour for good-byes. To let Gale know how essential he's been to me all these years. How much better my life has been for knowing him. For loving him, even if it's only in the limited way that I can manage.
But I never get the chance.
Now the only time she Mentions Gale in the arena is when Peeta pretty much is reminding her value alive. That her Family and Gale needs her. and Other then that She did say her personal goodbyes since she has no intent on coming back alive and the Jabber jay attack. But that’s it. She didn’t think of him when Peeta nearly died. or when Peeta said that Katniss was pregnat and Already Married. Nope her thoughts were okay well oh shit now what. Okay play it cool loll.
Mockingjay Chapter 2 Pages 27- 31
After a while, the door opens and someone slips in. Gale slides down beside me, his nose trickling blood.
"What happened?" I ask.
"I got in Boggs's way," he answers with a shrug. I use my sleeve to wipe his nose. "Watch it!"
I try to be gentler. Patting, not wiping. "Which one is he?"
"Oh, you know. Coin's right-hand lackey. The one who tried to stop you." He pushes my hand away.
"Quit! You'll bleed me to death."
The trickle has turned to a steady stream. I give up on the first-aid attempts. "You fought with Boggs?"
"No, just blocked the doorway when he tried to follow you. His elbow caught me in the nose," says Gale.
"They'll probably punish you," I say.
"Already have." He holds up his wrist. I stare at it uncomprehendingly. "Coin took back my communicuff."
I bite my lip, trying to remain serious. But it seems so ridiculous. "I'm sorry, Soldier Gale Hawthorne."
"Don't be, Soldier Katniss Everdeen." He grins. "I felt like a jerk walking around with it anyway." We both start laughing. "I think it was quite a demotion."
This is one of the few good things about 13. Getting Gale back. With the pressure of the Capitol's arranged marriage between Peeta and me gone, we've managed to regain our friendship. He doesn't push it any further - try to kiss me or talk about love. Either I've been too sick, or he's willing to give me space, or he knows it's just too cruel with Peeta in the hands of the Capitol. Whatever the case, I've got someone to tell my secrets to again.
"Who are these people?" I say.
"They're us. If we'd had nukes instead of a few lumps of coal," he answers.
"I like to think Twelve wouldn't have abandoned the rest of the rebels back in the Dark Days," I say.
"We might have. If it was that, surrender, or start a nuclear war," says Gale. "In a way, it's remarkable they survived at all."
Maybe it's because I still have the ashes of my own district on my shoes, but for the first time, I give the people of 13 something I have withheld from them: credit. For staying alive against all odds. Their early years must have been terrible, huddled in the chambers beneath the ground after their city was bombed to dust. Population decimated, no possible ally to turn to for aid. Over the past seventy-five years, they've learned to be self-sufficient, turned their citizens into an army, and built a new society with no help from anyone. They would be even more powerful if that pox epidemic hadn't flattened their birthrate and made them so desperate for a new gene pool and breeders. Maybe they are militaristic, overly programmed, and somewhat lacking in a sense of humor. They're here. And willing to take on the Capitol.
"Still, it took them long enough to show up," I say.
"It wasn't simple. They had to build up a rebel base in the Capitol, get some sort of underground organized in the districts," he says. "Then they needed someone to set the whole thing in motion. They needed you."
"They needed Peeta, too, but they seem to have forgotten that," I say.
Gale's expression darkens. "Peeta might have done a lot of damage tonight. Most of the rebels will dismiss what he said immediately, of course. But there are districts where the resistance is shakier. The cease-fire's clearly President Snow's idea. But it seems so reasonable coming out of Peeta's mouth."
I'm afraid of Gale's answer, but I ask anyway. "Why do you think he said it?"
"He might have been tortured. Or persuaded. My guess is he made some kind of deal to protect you. He'd put forth the idea of the cease-fire if Snow let him present you as a confused pregnant girl who had no idea what was going on when she was taken prisoner by the rebels. This way, if the districts lose, there's still a chance of leniency for you. If you play it right." I must still look perplexed because Gale delivers the next line very slowly. "Katniss...he's still trying to keep you alive."
To keep me alive?And then I understand. The Games are still on. We have left the arena, but since Peeta and I weren't killed, his last wish to preserve my life still stands. His idea is to have me lie low, remain safe and imprisoned, while the war plays out. Then neither side will really have cause to kill me. And Peeta? If the rebels win, it will be disastrous for him. If the Capitol wins, who knows? Maybe we'll both be allowed to live - if I play it right - to watch the Games go on....
Images flash through my mind: the spear piercing Rue's body in the arena, Gale hanging senseless from the whipping post, the corpse-littered wasteland of my home. And for what? For what? As my blood turns hot, I remember other things. My first glimpse of an uprising in District 8. The victors locked hand in hand the night before the Quarter Quell. And how it was no accident, my shooting that arrow into the force field in the arena. How badly I wanted it to lodge deep in the heart of my enemy.
I spring up, upsetting a box of a hundred pencils, sending them scattering around the floor.
"What is it?" Gale asks.
"There can't be a cease-fire." I lean down, fumbling as I shove the sticks of dark gray graphite back into the box. "We can't go back."
"I know." Gale sweeps up a handful of pencils and taps them on the floor into perfect alignment.
"Whatever reason Peeta had for saying those things, he's wrong." The stupid sticks won't go in the box and I snap several in my frustration.
"I know. Give it here. You're breaking them to bits." He pulls the box from my hands and refills it with swift, concise motions.
"He doesn't know what they did to Twelve. If he could've seen what was on the ground" - I start.
"Katniss, I'm not arguing. If I could hit a button and kill every living soul working for the Capitol, I would do it. Without hesitation." He slides the last pencil into the box and flips the lid closed. "The question is, what are you going to do?"
It turns out the question that's been eating away at me has only ever had one possible answer. But it took Peeta's ploy for me to recognize it.
What am I going to do?
I take a deep breath. My arms rise slightly - as if recalling the black-and-white wings Cinna gave me - then come to rest at my sides.
"I'm going to be the Mockingjay."
Mockingjay Chapter 3 Pages 39-41
I skim my list. "Gale. I'll need him with me to do this."
"With you how? Off camera? By your side at all times? Do you want him presented as your new lover?" Coin asks.
She hasn't said this with any particular malice - quite the contrary, her words are very matter-of-fact.
But my mouth still drops open in shock. "What?"
"I think we should continue the current romance. A quick defection from Peeta could cause the audience to lose sympathy for her," says Plutarch. "Especially since they think she's pregnant with his child."
"Agreed. So, on-screen, Gale can simply be portrayed as a fellow rebel. Is that all right?" says Coin. I just stare at her. She repeats herself impatiently. "For Gale. Will that be sufficient?"
"We can always work him in as your cousin," says Fulvia.
"We're not cousins," Gale and I say together.
"Right, but we should probably keep that up for appearances' sake on camera," says Plutarch. "Off camera, he's all yours. Anything else?"
I'm rattled by the turn in the conversation. The implications that I could so readily dispose of Peeta, that I'm in love with Gale, that the whole thing has been an act. My cheeks begin to burn. The very notion that I'm devoting any thought to who I want presented as my lover, given our current circumstances, is demeaning. I let my anger propel me into my greatest demand. "When the war is over, if we've won, Peeta will be pardoned."
Dead silence. I feel Gale's body tense. I guess I should have told him before, but I wasn't sure how he'd respond. Not when it involved Peeta.
"No form of punishment will be inflicted," I continue. A new thought occurs to me. "The same goes for the other captured tributes, Johanna and Enobaria." Frankly, I don't care about Enobaria, the vicious District 2 tribute. In fact, I dislike her, but it seems wrong to leave her out.
"No," says Coin flatly.
"Yes," I shoot back. "It's not their fault you abandoned them in the arena. Who knows what the Capitol's doing to them?"
"They'll be tried with other war criminals and treated as the tribunal sees fit," she says.
"They'll be granted immunity!" I feel myself rising from my chair, my voice full and resonant. "You will personally pledge this in front of the entire population of District Thirteen and the remainder of Twelve. Soon. Today. It will be recorded for future generations. You will hold yourself and your government responsible for their safety, or you'll find yourself another Mockingjay!"
Mockingjay Chapter 4 Pages 53-55.
We hunt, like in the old days. Silent, needing no words to communicate, because here in the woods we move as two parts of one being. Anticipating each other's movements, watching each other's backs. How long has it been? Eight months? Nine? Since we had this freedom? It's not exactly the same, given all that's happened and the trackers on our ankles and the fact that I have to rest so often. But it's about as close to happiness as I think I can currently get.
The animals here are not nearly suspicious enough. That extra moment it takes to place our unfamiliar scent means their death. In an hour and a half, we've got a mixed dozen - rabbits, squirrels, and turkeys - and decide to knock off to spend the remaining time by a pond that must be fed by an underground spring, since the water's cool and sweet.
When Gale offers to clean the game, I don't object. I stick a few mint leaves on my tongue, close my eyes, and lean back against a rock, soaking in the sounds, letting the scorching afternoon sun burn my skin, almost at peace until Gale's voice interrupts me. "Katniss, why do you care so much about your prep team?"
I open my eyes to see if he's joking, but he's frowning down at the rabbit he's skinning. "Why shouldn't I?"
"Hm. Let's see. Because they've spent the last year prettying you up for slaughter?" he suggests.
"It's more complicated than that. I know them. They're not evil or cruel. They're not even smart. Hurting them, it's like hurting children. They don't see...I mean, they don't know..." I get knotted up in my words.
"They don't know what, Katniss?" he says. "That tributes - who are the actual children involved here, not your trio of freaks - are forced to fight to the death? That you were going into that arena for people's amusement? Was that a big secret in the Capitol?"
"No. But they don't view it the way we do," I say. "They're raised on it and - "
"Are you actually defending them?" He slips the skin from the rabbit in one quick move.
That stings, because, in fact, I am, and it's ridiculous. I struggle to find a logical position. "I guess I'm defending anyone who's treated like that for taking a slice of bread. Maybe it reminds me too much of what happened to you over a turkey!"
Still, he's right. It does seem strange, my level of concern over the prep team. I should hate them and want to see them strung up. But they're so clueless, and they belonged to Cinna, and he was on my side, right?
"I'm not looking for a fight," Gale says. "But I don't think Coin was sending you some big message by punishing them for breaking the rules here. She probably thought you'd see it as a favor." He stuffs the rabbit in the sack and rises. "We better get going if we want to make it back on time."
I ignore his offer of a hand up and get to my feet unsteadily. "Fine." Neither of us talks on the way back, but once we're inside the gate, I think of something else. "During the Quarter Quell, Octavia and Flavius had to quit because they couldn't stop crying over me going back in. And Venia could barely say good-bye."
"I'll try and keep that in mind as they...remake you," says Gale.
"Do," I say.
Chapter 5 Mockingjay pages 63-64
Gale, who's not usually much of a talker during meals, makes an effort to keep the conversation going, asking about the makeover. I know it's his attempt at smoothing things over. We argued last night after he suggested I'd left Coin no choice but to counter my demand for the victors' safety with one of her own. "Katniss, she's running this district. She can't do it if it seems like she's caving in to your will."
"You mean she can't stand any dissent, even if it's fair," I'd countered.
"I mean you put her in a bad position. Making her give Peeta and the others immunity when we don't even know what sort of damage they might cause," Gale had said.
"So I should've just gone with the program and let the other tributes take their chances? Not that it matters, because that's what we're all doing anyway!" That was when I'd slammed the door in his face. I hadn't sat with him at breakfast, and when Plutarch had sent him down to training this morning, I'd let him go without a word. I know he only spoke out of concern for me, but I really need him to be on my side, not Coin's. How can he not know that?
After lunch, Gale and I are scheduled to go down to Special Defense to meet Beetee. As we ride the elevator, Gale finally says, "You're still angry."
"And you're still not sorry," I reply.
"I still stand by what I said. Do you want me to lie about it?" he asks.
"No, I want you to rethink it and come up with the right opinion," I tell him. But this just makes him laugh. I have to let it go. There's no point in trying to dictate what Gale thinks. Which, if I'm honest, is one reason I trust him.
Mockingjay Chapter 6 Pages 81-82
Fulvia Cardew hustles over and makes a sound of frustration when she sees my clean face. "All that work, down the drain. I'm not blaming you, Katniss. It's just that very few people are born with camera-ready faces. Like him." She snags Gale, who's in a conversation with Plutarch, and spins him toward us. "Isn't he handsome?"
Gale does look striking in the uniform, I guess. But the question just embarrasses us both, given our history. I'm trying to think of a witty comeback, when Boggs says brusquely, "Well, don't expect us to be too impressed. We just saw Finnick Odair in his underwear." I decide to go ahead and like Boggs.
Chapter 9 Mockingjay Pages 116 -118
Come morning, I stick my forearm in the wall and stare groggily at the day's schedule. Immediately after breakfast, I am slated for Production. In the dining hall, as I down my hot grain and milk and mushy beets, I spot a communicuff on Gale's wrist. "When did you get that back, Soldier Hawthorne?" I ask.
"Yesterday. They thought if I'm going to be in the field with you, it could be a backup system of communication," says Gale.
No one has ever offered me a communicuff. I wonder, if I asked for one, would I get it? "Well, I guess one of us has to be accessible," I say with an edge to my voice.
"What's that mean?" he says.
"Nothing. Just repeating what you said," I tell him. "And I totally agree that the accessible one should be you. I just hope I still have access to you as well."
Our eyes lock, and I realize how furious I am with Gale. That I don't believe for a second that he didn't see Peeta's propo. That I feel completely betrayed that he didn't tell me about it. We know each other too well for him not to read my mood and guess what has caused it.
"Katniss - " he begins. Already the admission of guilt is in his tone.
I grab my tray, cross to the deposit area, and slam the dishes onto the rack. By the time I'm in the hallway, he's caught up with me.
"Why didn't you say something?" he asks, taking my arm.
"Why didn'tI ?" I jerk my arm free. "Why didn'tyou , Gale? And I did, by the way, when I asked you last night about what had been going on!"
"I'm sorry. All right? I didn't know what to do. I wanted to tell you, but everyone was afraid that seeing Peeta's propo would make you sick," he says.
"They were right. It did. But not quite as sick as you lying to me for Coin." At that moment, his communicuff starts beeping. "There she is. Better run. You have things to tell her."
For a moment, real hurt registers on his face. Then cold anger replaces it. He turns on his heel and goes. Maybe I have been too spiteful, not given him enough time to explain. Maybe everyone is just trying to protect me by lying to me. I don't care. I'm sick of people lying to me for my own good. Because really it's mostly for their own good. Lie to Katniss about the rebellion so she doesn't do anything crazy. Send her into the arena without a clue so we can fish her out. Don't tell her about Peeta's propo because it might make her sick, and it's hard enough to get a decent performance out of her as it is.
I do feel sick. Heartsick. And too tired for a day of production. But I'm already at Remake, so I go in.
Mockingjay Chapter 9 Pages 127-130
As we trudge back through the woods, we reach a boulder, and both Gale and I turn our heads in the same direction, like a pair of dogs catching a scent on the wind. Cressida notices and asks what lies that way. We admit, without acknowledging each other, it's our old hunting rendezvous place. She wants to see it, even after we tell her it's nothing really.
Nothing but a place where I was happy, I think.
Our rock ledge overlooking the valley. Perhaps a little less green than usual, but the blackberry bushes hang heavy with fruit. Here began countless days of hunting and snaring, fishing and gathering, roaming together through the woods, unloading our thoughts while we filled our game bags. This was the doorway to both sustenance and sanity. And we were each other's key.
There's no District 12 to escape from now, no Peacekeepers to trick, no hungry mouths to feed. The Capitol took away all of that, and I'm on the verge of losing Gale as well. The glue of mutual need that bonded us so tightly together for all those years is melting away. Dark patches, not light, show in the spaces between us. How can it be that today, in the face of 12's horrible demise, we are too angry to even speak to each other?
Gale as good as lied to me. That was unacceptable, even if he was concerned about my well-being. His apology seemed genuine, though. And I threw it back in his face with an insult to make sure it stung. What is happening to us? Why are we always at odds now? It's all a muddle, but I somehow feel that if I went back to the root of our troubles, my actions would be at the heart of it. Do I really want to drive him away?
My fingers encircle a blackberry and pluck it from its stem. I roll it gently between my thumb and forefinger. Suddenly, I turn to him and toss it in his direction. "And may the odds - " I say. I throw it high so he has plenty of time to decide whether to knock it aside or accept it.
Gale's eyes train on me, not the berry, but at the last moment, he opens his mouth and catches it. He chews, swallows, and there's a long pause before he says " - beever in your favor." But he does say it.
Cressida has us sit in the nook in the rocks, where it's impossible not to be touching, and coaxes us into talking about hunting. What drove us out into the woods, how we met, favorite moments. We thaw, begin to laugh a little, as we relate mishaps with bees and wild dogs and skunks. When the conversation turns to how it felt to translate our skill with weapons to the bombing in 8, I stop talking. Gale just says, "Long overdue."
By the time we reach the town square, afternoon's sinking into evening. I take Cressida to the rubble of the bakery and ask her to film something. The only emotion I can muster is exhaustion. "Peeta, this is your home. None of your family has been heard of since the bombing. Twelve is gone. And you're calling for a cease-fire?" I look across the emptiness. "There's no one left to hear you."
As we stand before the lump of metal that was the gallows, Cressida asks if either of us has ever been tortured. In answer, Gale pulls off his shirt and turns his back to the camera. I stare at the lash marks, and again hear the whistling of the whip, see his bloody figure hanging unconscious by his wrists.
"I'm done," I announce. "I'll meet you at the Victor's Village. Something for...my mother."
I guess I walked here, but the next thing I'm conscious of is sitting on the floor in front of the kitchen cabinets of our house in the Victor's Village. Meticulously lining ceramic jars and glass bottles into a box. Placing clean cotton bandages between them to prevent breaking. Wrapping bunches of dried flowers.
Suddenly, I remember the rose on my dresser. Was it real? If so, is it still up there? I have to resist the temptation to check. If it's there, it will only frighten me all over again. I hurry with my packing.
When the cabinets are empty, I rise to find that Gale has materialized in my kitchen. It's disturbing how soundlessly he can appear. He's leaning on the table, his fingers spread wide against the wood grain. I set the box between us. "Remember?" he asks. "This is where you kissed me."
So the heavy dose of morphling administered after the whipping wasn't enough to erase that from his consciousness. "I didn't think you'd remember that," I say.
"Have to be dead to forget. Maybe even not then," he tells me. "Maybe I'll be like that man in 'The Hanging Tree.' Still waiting for an answer." Gale, who I have never seen cry, has tears in his eyes. To keep them from spilling over, I reach forward and press my lips against his. We taste of heat, ashes, and misery. It's a surprising flavor for such a gentle kiss. He pulls away first and gives me a wry smile. "I knew you'd kiss me."
"How?" I say. Because I didn't know myself.
"Because I'm in pain," he says. "That's the only way I get your attention." He picks up the box. "Don't worry, Katniss. It'll pass." He leaves before I can answer.
Mockingjay Chapter 11 Page 158
"Can we have a coffee?" asks Finnick.
Steaming cups are handed out. I stare distastefully at the shiny black liquid, never having been much of a fan of the stuff, but thinking it might help me stay on my feet. Finnick sloshes some cream in my cup and reaches into the sugar bowl. "Want a sugar cube?" he asks in his old seductive voice. That's how we met, with Finnick offering me sugar. Surrounded by horses and chariots, costumed and painted for the crowds, before we were allies. Before I had any idea what made him tick. The memory actually coaxes a smile out of me. "Here, it improves the taste," he says in his real voice, plunking three cubes in my cup.
As I turn to go suit up as the Mockingjay, I catch Gale watching me and Finnick unhappily. What now? Does he actually think something's going on between us? Maybe he saw me go to Finnick's last night. I would've passed the Hawthornes' space to get there. I guess that probably rubbed him the wrong way. Me seeking out Finnick's company instead of his. Well, fine. I've got rope burn on my fingers, I can barely hold my eyes open, and a camera crew's waiting for me to do something brilliant. And Snow's got Peeta. Gale can think whatever he wants.
Mockingjay Chapter 13 Page 185-186
Gale must have been released from the hospital this morning as well, because I find him in one of the research rooms with Beetee. They're immersed, heads bent over a drawing, taking a measurement. Versions of the picture litter the table and floor. Tacked on the corkboard walls and occupying several computer screens are other designs of some sort. In the rough lines of one, I recognize Gale's twitch-up snare. "What are these?" I ask hoarsely, pulling their attention from the sheet.
"Ah, Katniss, you've found us out," says Beetee cheerfully.
"What? Is this a secret?" I know Gale's been down here working with Beetee a lot, but I assumed they were messing around with bows and guns.
"Not really. But I've felt a little guilty about it. Stealing Gale away from you so much," Beetee admits.
Since I've spent most of my time in 13 disoriented, worried, angry, being remade, or hospitalized, I can't say Gale's absences have inconvenienced me. Things haven't been exactly harmonious between us, either. But I let Beetee think he owes me. "I hope you've been putting his time to good use."
"Come and see," he says, waving me over to a computer screen.
This is what they've been doing. Taking the fundamental ideas behind Gale's traps and adapting them into weapons against humans. Bombs mostly. It's less about the mechanics of the traps than the psychology behind them. Booby-trapping an area that provides something essential to survival. A water or food supply. Frightening prey so that a large number flee into a greater destruction. Endangering off-spring in order to draw in the actual desired target, the parent. Luring the victim into what appears to be a safe haven - where death awaits it. At some point, Gale and Beetee left the wilderness behind and focused on more human impulses. Like compassion. A bomb explodes. Time is allowed for people to rush to the aid of the wounded. Then a second, more powerful bomb kills them as well.
"That seems to be crossing some kind of line," I say. "So anything goes?" They both stare at me - Beetee with doubt, Gale with hostility. "I guess there isn't a rule book for what might be unacceptable to do to another human being."
"Sure there is. Beetee and I have been following the same rule book President Snow used when he hijacked Peeta," says Gale.
Cruel, but to the point. I leave without further comment. I feel if I don't get outside immediately, I'll just go ballistic,
Mockingjay Chapter 14 Pages 196-200
Gale finds me when they arrive late one afternoon. I'm sitting on a log at the edge of my current village, plucking a goose. A dozen or so of the birds are piled at my feet. Great flocks of them have been migrating through here since I've arrived, and the pickings are easy. Without a word, Gale settles beside me and begins to relieve a bird of its feathers. We're through about half when he says, "Any chance we'll get to eat these?"
"Yeah. Most go to the camp kitchen, but they expect me to give a couple to whoever I'm staying with tonight," I say. "For keeping me."
"Isn't the honor of the thing enough?" he says.
"You'd think," I reply. "But word's gotten out that mockingjays are hazardous to your health."
We pluck in silence for a while longer. Then he says, "I saw Peeta yesterday. Through the glass."
"What'd you think?" I ask.
"Something selfish," says Gale.
"That you don't have to be jealous of him anymore?" My fingers give a yank, and a cloud of feathers floats down around us.
"No. Just the opposite." Gale pulls a feather out of my hair. "I thought...I'll never compete with that. No matter how much pain I'm in." He spins the feather between his thumb and forefinger. "I don't stand a chance if he doesn't get better. You'll never be able to let him go. You'll always feel wrong about being with me."
"The way I always felt wrong kissing him because of you," I say.
Gale holds my gaze. "If I thought that was true, I could almost live with the rest of it."
"It is true," I admit. "But so is what you said about Peeta."
Gale makes a sound of exasperation. Nonetheless, after we've dropped off the birds and volunteered to go back to the woods to gather kindling for the evening fire, I find myself wrapped in his arms. His lips brushing the faded bruises on my neck, working their way to my mouth. Despite what I feel for Peeta, this is when I accept deep down that he'll never come back to me. Or I'll never go back to him. I'll stay in 2 until it falls, go to the Capitol and kill Snow, and then die for my trouble. And he'll die insane and hating me. So in the fading light I shut my eyes and kiss Gale to make up for all the kisses I've withheld, and because it doesn't matter anymore, and because I'm so desperately lonely I can't stand it. Gale's touch and taste and heat remind me that at least my body's still alive, and for the moment it's a welcome feeling. I empty my mind and let the sensations run through my flesh, happy to lose myself. When Gale pulls away slightly, I move forward to close the gap, but I feel his hand under my chin. "Katniss," he says. The instant I open my eyes, the world seems disjointed. This is not our woods or our mountains or our way. My hand automatically goes to the scar on my left temple, which I associate with confusion. "Now kiss me." Bewildered, unblinking, I stand there while he leans in and presses his lips to mine briefly. He examines my face closely. "What's going on in your head?"
"I don't know," I whisper back.
"Then it's like kissing someone who's drunk. It doesn't count," he says with a weak attempt at a laugh. He scoops up a pile of kindling and drops it in my empty arms, returning me to myself.
"How do you know?" I say, mostly to cover my embarrassment. "Have you kissed someone who's drunk?" I guess Gale could've been kissing girls right and left back in 12. He certainly had enough takers. I never thought about it much before.
He just shakes his head. "No. But it's not hard to imagine."
"So, you never kissed any other girls?" I ask.
"I didn't say that. You know, you were only twelve when we met. And a real pain besides. I did have a life outside of hunting with you," he says, loading up with firewood.
Suddenly, I'm genuinely curious. "Who did you kiss? And where?"
"Too many to remember. Behind the school, on the slag heap, you name it," he says.
I roll my eyes. "So when did I become so special? When they carted me off to the Capitol?"
"No. About six months before that. Right after New Year's. We were in the Hob, eating some slop of Greasy Sae's. And Darius was teasing you about trading a rabbit for one of his kisses. And I realized...I minded," he tells me.
I remember that day. Bitter cold and dark by four in the afternoon. We'd been hunting, but a heavy snow had driven us back into town. The Hob was crowded with people looking for refuge from the weather. Greasy Sae's soup, made with stock from the bones of a wild dog we'd shot a week earlier, was below her usual standards. Still, it was hot, and I was starving as I scooped it up, sitting cross-legged on her counter. Darius was leaning on the post of the stall, tickling my cheek with the end of my braid, while I smacked his hand away. He was explaining why one of his kisses merited a rabbit, or possibly two, since everyone knows redheaded men are the most virile. And Greasy Sae and I were laughing because he was so ridiculous and persistent and kept pointing out women around the Hob who he said had paid far more than a rabbit to enjoy his lips. "See? The one in the green muffler? Go ahead and ask her.If you need a reference."
A million miles from here, a billion days ago, this happened. "Darius was just joking around," I say.
"Probably. Although you'd be the last to figure out if he wasn't," Gale tells me. "Take Peeta. Take me. Or even Finnick. I was starting to worry he had his eye on you, but he seems back on track now."
"You don't know Finnick if you think he'd love me," I say.
Gale shrugs. "I know he was desperate. That makes people do all kinds of crazy things."
I can't help thinking that's directed at me.
Mockingjay Chapters 14 and 15 Pages 200- 206
Gale, who is too restless to sit at the table for more than a few hours, has been alternating between pacing and sharing my windowsill. Early on, he seemed to accept Lyme's assertion that the entrances couldn't be taken, and dropped out of the conversation entirely. For the last hour or so, he's sat quietly, his brow knitted in concentration, staring at the Nut through the window glass. In the silence that follows Lyme's ultimatum, he speaks up. "Is it really so necessary that we take the Nut? Or would it be enough to disable it?"
"That would be a step in the right direction," says Beetee. "What do you have in mind?"
"Think of it as a wild dog den," Gale continues. "You're not going to fight your way in. So you have two choices. Trap the dogs inside or flush them out."
"We've tried bombing the entrances," says Lyme. "They're set too far inside the stone for any real damage to be done."
"I wasn't thinking of that," says Gale. "I was thinking of using the mountain." Beetee rises and joins Gale at the window, peering through his ill-fitting glasses. "See? Running down the sides?"
"Avalanche paths," says Beetee under his breath. "It'd be tricky. We'd have to design the detonation sequence with great care, and once it's in motion, we couldn't hope to control it."
"We don't need to control it if we give up the idea that we have to possess the Nut," says Gale. "Only shut it down."
"So you're suggesting we start avalanches and block the entrances?" asks Lyme.
"That's it," says Gale. "Trap the enemy inside, cut off from supplies. Make it impossible for them to send out their hovercraft."
While everyone considers the plan, Boggs flips through a stack of blueprints of the Nut and frowns. "You risk killing everyone inside. Look at the ventilation system. It's rudimentary at best. Nothing like what we have in Thirteen. It depends entirely on pumping in air from the mountainsides. Block those vents and you'll suffocate whoever is trapped."
"They could still escape through the train tunnel to the square," says Beetee.
"Not if we blow it up," says Gale brusquely. His intent, his full intent, becomes clear. Gale has no interest in preserving the lives of those in the Nut. No interest in caging the prey for later use.
This is one of his death traps.
The implications of what Gale is suggesting settle quietly around the room. You can see the reaction playing out on people's faces. The expressions range from pleasure to distress, from sorrow to satisfaction.
"The majority of the workers are citizens from Two," says Beetee neutrally.
"So what?" says Gale. "We'll never be able to trust them again."
"They should at least have a chance to surrender," says Lyme.
"Well, that's a luxury we weren't given when they fire-bombed Twelve, but you're all so much cozier with the Capitol here," says Gale. By the look on Lyme's face, I think she might shoot him, or at least take a swing. She'd probably have the upper hand, too, with all her training. But her anger only seems to infuriate him and he yells, "We watched children burn to death and there was nothing we could do!"
I have to close my eyes a minute, as the image rips through me. It has the desired effect. I want everyone in that mountain dead. Am about to say so. But then...I'm also a girl from District 12. Not President Snow. I can't help it. I can't condemn someone to the death he's suggesting. "Gale," I say, taking his arm and trying to speak in a reasonable tone. "The Nut's an old mine. It'd be like causing a massive coal mining accident." Surely the words are enough to make anyone from 12 think twice about the plan.
"But not so quick as the one that killed our fathers," he retorts. "Is that everyone's problem? That our enemies might have a few hours to reflect on the fact that they're dying, instead of just being blown to bits?"
Back in the old days, when we were nothing more than a couple of kids hunting outside of 12, Gale said things like this and worse. But then they were just words. Here, put into practice, they become deeds that can never be reversed.
"You don't know how those District Two people ended up in the Nut," I say. "They may have been coerced. They may be held against their will. Some are our own spies. Will you kill them, too?"
"I would sacrifice a few, yes, to take out the rest of them," he replies. "And if I were a spy in there, I'd say, 'Bring on the avalanches!'"
I know he's telling the truth. That Gale would sacrifice his life in this way for the cause - no one doubts it. Perhaps we'd all do the same if we were the spies and given the choice. I guess I would. But it's a coldhearted decision to make for other people and those who love them.
"You said we had two choices," Boggs tells him. "To trap them or to flush them out. I say we try to avalanche the mountain but leave the train tunnel alone. People can escape into the square, where we'll be waiting for them."
"Heavily armed, I hope," says Gale. "You can be sure they'll be."
"Heavily armed. We'll take them prisoner," agrees Boggs.
"Let's bring Thirteen into the loop now," Beetee suggests. "Let President Coin weigh in."
"She'll want to block the tunnel," says Gale with conviction.
"Yes, most likely. But you know, Peeta did have a point in his propos. About the dangers of killing ourselves off. I've been playing with some numbers. Factoring in the casualties and the wounded and...I think it's at least worth a conversation," says Beetee.
Mockingjay Chapter 15 Page 207
Gale's plan exceeds anyone's expectations. Beetee was right about being unable to control the avalanches once they'd been set in motion. The mountainsides are naturally unstable, but weakened by the explosions, they seem almost fluid. Whole sections of the Nut collapse before our eyes, obliterating any sign that human beings have ever set foot on the place. We stand speechless, tiny and insignificant, as waves of stone thunder down the mountain. Burying the entrances under tons of rock. Raising a cloud of dirt and debris that blackens the sky. Turning the Nut into a tomb.
I imagine the hell inside the mountain. Sirens wailing. Lights flickering into darkness. Stone dust choking the air. The shrieks of panicked, trapped beings stumbling madly for a way out, only to find the entrances, the launchpad, the ventilation shafts themselves clogged with earth and rock trying to force its way in. Live wires flung free, fires breaking out, rubble making a familiar path a maze. People slamming, shoving, scrambling like ants as the hill presses in, threatening to crush their fragile shells.
Mockingay Chapter 17 Page 244
"I told you he hated me," I say.
"It's the way he hates you. It's so...familiar. I used to feel like that," he admits. "When I'd watch you kissing him on the screen. Only I knew I wasn't being entirely fair. He can't see that."
We reach my door. "Maybe he just sees me as I really am. I have to get some sleep."
Gale catches my arm before I can disappear. "So that's what you're thinking now?" I shrug. "Katniss, as your oldest friend, believe me when I say he's not seeing you as you really are." He kisses my cheek and goes.
Mockingjay Chapter 19 Pages 267-268
The dinner whistle sounds, and Gale and I line up at the canteen. "Do you want me to kill him?" he asks bluntly.
"That'll get us both sent back for sure," I say. But even though I'm furious, the brutality of the offer rattles me. "I can deal with him."
"You mean until you take off? You and your paper map and possibly a Holo if you can get your hands on it?" So Gale has not missed my preparations. I hope they haven't been so obvious to the others. None of them know my mind like he does, though. "You're not planning on leaving me behind, are you?" he asks.
Up until this point, I was. But having my hunting partner to watch my back doesn't sound like a bad idea. "As your fellow soldier, I have to strongly recommend you stay with your squad. But I can't stop you from coming, can I?"
He grins. "No. Not unless you want me to alert the rest of the army."
Mockingjay Chapter 19 Page 274
I move to Gale, press my forehead into the body armor where his chest should be, feel his arm tighten around me. We finally know the name of the girl who we watched the Capitol abduct from the woods of 12, the fate of the Peacekeeper friend who tried to keep Gale alive. This is no time to call up happy moments of remembrance. They lost their lives because of me. I add them to my personal list of kills that began in the arena and now includes thousands. When I look up, I see it has taken Gale differently. His expression says that there are not enough mountains to crush, enough cities to destroy. It promises death.
Mockingjay Chapter 23. Pages 328-329
We change bandages, handcuff Peeta back to his support, and settle down to sleep. A few hours later, I slip back into consciousness and become aware of a quiet conversation. Peeta and Gale. I can't stop myself from eavesdropping.
"Thanks for the water," Peeta says.
"No problem," Gale replies. "I wake up ten times a night anyway."
"To make sure Katniss is still here?" asks Peeta.
"Something like that," Gale admits.
There's a long pause before Peeta speaks again. "That was funny, what Tigris said. About no one knowing what to do with her."
"Well,we never have," Gale says.
They both laugh. It's so strange to hear them talking like this. Almost like friends. Which they're not. Never have been. Although they're not exactly enemies.
"She loves you, you know," says Peeta. "She as good as told me after they whipped you."
"Don't believe it," Gale answers. "The way she kissed you in the Quarter Quell...well, she never kissed me like that."
"It was just part of the show," Peeta tells him, although there's an edge of doubt in his voice.
"No, you won her over. Gave up everything for her. Maybe that's the only way to convince her you love her." There's a long pause. "I should have volunteered to take your place in the first Games. Protected her then."
"You couldn't," says Peeta. "She'd never have forgiven you. You had to take care of her family. They matter more to her than her life."
"Well, it won't be an issue much longer. I think it's unlikely all three of us will be alive at the end of the war. And if we are, I guess it's Katniss's problem. Who to choose." Gale yawns. "We should get some sleep."
"Yeah." I hear Peeta's handcuffs slide down the support as he settles in. "I wonder how she'll make up her mind."
"Oh, that I do know." I can just catch Gale's last words through the layer of fur. "Katniss will pick whoever she thinks she can't survive without."
Mockingjay Chapter 24 Page 275
A chill runs through me. Am I really that cold and calculating? Gale didn't say, "Katniss will pick whoever it will break her heart to give up," or even "whoever she can't live without." Those would have implied I was motivated by a kind of passion. But my best friend predicts I will choose the person who I think I "can't survive without." There's not the least indication that love, or desire, or even compatibility will sway me. I'll just conduct an unfeeling assessment of what my potential mates can offer me. As if in the end, it will be the question of whether a baker or a hunter will extend my longevity the most. It's a horrible thing for Gale to say, for Peeta not to refute. Especially when every emotion I have has been taken and exploited by the Capitol or the rebels. At the moment, the choice would be simple. I can survive just fine without either of them.
Mockingjay Chapter 26 Pages 366- 367
There's a tap at the door and Gale steps in. "Can I have a minute?" he asks. In the mirror, I watch my prep team. Unsure of where to go, they bump into one another a few times and then closet themselves in the bathroom. Gale comes up behind me and we examine each other's reflection. I'm searching for something to hang on to, some sign of the girl and boy who met by chance in the woods five years ago and became inseparable. I'm wondering what would have happened to them if the Hunger Games had not reaped the girl. If she would have fallen in love with the boy, married him even. And sometime in the future, when the brothers and sisters had been raised up, escaped with him into the woods and left 12 behind forever. Would they have been happy, out in the wild, or would the dark, twisted sadness between them have grown up even without the Capitol's help?
"I brought you this." Gale holds up a sheath. When I take it, I notice it holds a single, ordinary arrow. "It's supposed to be symbolic. You firing the last shot of the war."
"What if I miss?" I say. "Does Coin retrieve it and bring it back to me? Or just shoot Snow through the head herself?"
"You won't miss." Gale adjusts the sheath on my shoulder.
We stand there, face-to-face, not meeting each other's eyes. "You didn't come see me in the hospital." He doesn't answer, so finally I just say it. "Was it your bomb?"
"I don't know. Neither does Beetee," he says. "Does it matter? You'll always be thinking about it."
He waits for me to deny it; I want to deny it, but it's true. Even now I can see the flash that ignites her, feel the heat of the flames. And I will never be able to separate that moment from Gale. My silence is my answer.
"That was the one thing I had going for me. Taking care of your family," he says. "Shoot straight, okay?" He touches my cheek and leaves. I want to call him back and tell him that I was wrong. That I'll figure out a way to make peace with this. To remember the circumstances under which he created the bomb. Take into account my own inexcusable crimes. Dig up the truth about who dropped the parachutes. Prove it wasn't the rebels. Forgive him. But since I can't, I'll just have to deal with the pain.
Chapter 27 Pages 384 385
Over the eggs, I ask her, "Where did Gale go?"
"District Two. Got some fancy job there. I see him now and again on the television," she says.
I dig around inside myself, trying to register anger, hatred, longing. I find only relief.
"I'm going hunting today," I say.
"Well, I wouldn't mind some fresh game at that," she answers.
I arm myself with a bow and arrows and head out, intending to exit 12 through the Meadow. Near the square are teams of masked and gloved people with horse-drawn carts. Sifting through what lay under the snow this winter. Gathering remains. A cart's parked in front of the mayor's house. I recognize Thom, Gale's old crewmate, pausing a moment to wipe the sweat from his face with a rag. I remember seeing him in 13, but he must have come back. His greeting gives me the courage to ask, "Did they find anyone in there?"
"Whole family. And the two people who worked for them," Thom tells me.
Madge. Quiet and kind and brave. The girl who gave me the pin that gave me a name. I swallow hard. Wonder if she'll be joining the cast of my nightmares tonight. Shoveling the ashes into my mouth. "I thought maybe, since he was the mayor..."
"I don't think being the mayor of Twelve put the odds in his favor," says Thom.
I nod and keep moving, careful not to look in the back of the cart. All through the town and the Seam, it's the same. The reaping of the dead. As I near the ruins of my old house, the road becomes thick with carts. The Meadow's gone, or at least dramatically altered. A deep pit has been dug, and they're lining it with bones, a mass grave for my people. I skirt around the hole and enter the woods at my usual place. It doesn't matter, though. The fence isn't charged anymore and has been propped up with long branches to keep out the predators. But old habits die hard. I think about going to the lake, but I'm so weak that I barely make it to my meeting place with Gale. I sit on the rock where Cressida filmed us, but it's too wide without his body beside me. Several times I close my eyes and count to ten, thinking that when I open them, he will have materialized without a sound as he so often did. I have to remind myself that Gale's in 2 with a fancy job, probably kissing another pair of lips.
#thg#hunger games#catching fire#mockingjay#mockingjay part 1#mockingjay part 2#The Hunger Games#TheHungerGames#CatchingFire#hunger games catching fire#cf#gale hawthorne#gale#Katniss#katniss everdeen#Peeta Mellark#Peeta
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Star, May 10
You can buy a brand new copy of this issue without the mailing label for your very own at my eBay store: https://www.ebay.com/str/bradentonbooks
Cover: Meghan Markle having twin girls (oops!)
Page 1: Famous for doing his own stunts, Tom Cruise helicoptered in to the tiny English village of Levisham to film aboard, or rather hanging off of, a vintage train and along for the ride was his Mission: Impossible 7 costar Hayley Atwell, who was spotted running along the top of the North Yorkshire Moors Railway car and while the pair, surrounded by crew and tech experts, were total pros, it's an open secret on set that their romance is going strong and Tom and Hayley hang out non-stop when the cameras are off and are pretty much joined at the hip but not in a showy, PDA way; it's a very discreet thing they've got going on -- off-camera, 58-year-old Tom and 39-year-old Hayley enjoy quiet nights holed up in Tom's London digs, eating meals specially prepared by his private chef and they'll watch movies or read books or just chill out doing their own thing -- chilling out isn't Tom's forte, as audio leaked of him berating the film's crew for violating COVID-19 protocols, but things have calmed down considerably as the spy flick, due in theaters May 2022, closes in on its wrap date, but the ensuing publicity push will put Tom and Hayley's relationship front and center, but don't expect the devoted Scientologist to jump on any couches (a la Katie Holmes) announcing wife No. 4 as Tom has learned the hard way about putting everything out there and getting picked to pieces; this time, it's all about subtlety
Page 2: Contents, Cher got up and personal with the World's Loneliest Elephant Kaavan, who she helped relocate to Cambodia
Page 3: Brie Larson in a swimsuit with butterflies on it during a getaway to Hawaii, with headphones at the ready Brooke Burke was itching to cut a rug with friends before teaching a silent disco cardio party at the Rafi Lounge in Malibu, Maria Shriver and Christina Schwarzenegger enjoyed some quality time on a stroll in L.A., Boy George sporting a bold look on The Jonathan Ross Show in London
Page 4: In a recent interview, AnnaLynne McCord revealed a shocking diagnosis: for years, the 90210 alum has been battling dissociative identity disorder (often erroneously referred to as multiple personality disorder) -- she told Dr. Daniel Amen she is absolutely uninterested in shame about opening up despite the stigma surrounding mental-health issues because that's how we get to the point where we can articulate the nature of these pervasive traumas as horrible as they are -- for her part, the 33-year-old traces back her troubles to sexual abuse she suffered as a child and as had many of the 200,000 people diagnosed with DID each year, she suppressed those horrific memories and it was only within the past few years that they began to resurface, largely after she sought treatment for PTSD related to another sexual assault and she doesn't have any memories of abuse until around 5, then from 5 to 11, she recounts incidents throughout and then, when she was 13, she has a singled-out memory and it was at that age that she developed what doctors call a second personality identity: as Little Ann, the Georgia-born daughter of a pastor said she was balls to the wall, middle fingers to the sky, anarchist from hell who will stab you with the spike ring that she wears and that helped her survive her nightmarish situation -- ironically, acting created the same dynamic, making it sometimes difficult for AnnaLynne to let go of characters she'd played and all of her roles were splits but she didn't even realize she was doing it
Page 5: Jennifer Aniston wasn't exactly touched when Justin Theroux gushed about how much he still loves her in the issue of Esquire -- complaining about feeling like a hermit during the pandemic, 49-year-old Justin nearly got misty discussing FaceTiming and texting his ex, saying he cherishes their friendship and they can not be together and still bring each other joy and he'd be bereft if they weren't still in touch and he'd like to think the same for her -- but 52-year-old Jen, whose love life has been low-key since the pair's 2018 divorce, has stayed on good terms with most of her exes including Brad Pitt but doesn't want anything more than a friendship with Justin and sure, it's flattering but she's just moved on and wishes he would too, and that goes double for some of her friends who griped that Justin tried to milk Jen's connections to further his career -- in the end, Justin needs to know he's got no chance whatsoever of winning Jen back and she doesn't feel anything remotely close to passion for him anymore
* Roseanne Barr showed off her newly svelte frame on Instagram -- back in 1998, she lost 100 lbs after undergoing gastric-bypass surgery, but yo-yo'd over the next decades but now she's determined to keep the weight off by totally changing the way she eats and she's growing her own fruits and vegetables and has a whole new appreciation of food
* Five months after he entered the Federal Correctional Institution, Mossimo Gianulli finished up his stint at his plush Hidden Hills home and now, the 57-year-old, who along with wife Lori Loughlin, pleaded guilty to paying a $500,000 bribe to get their kids into USC, can't wait to get back to normal and his biggest priority, besides spending time with Lori and the girls, is to get out there on the golf course -- the designer, worth a reported $70 million, still has to perform 250 hours of community service while Lori, who finished up her prison stint in December, is chipping away at hers, doling out meals at L.A.'s Project Angel Food -- Lori and Mossimo have resolved not to dwell on the past and they want to move forward with a positive and grateful attitude
Page 6: Fans of Angelina Jolie's stunts in movies like Lara Croft: Tomb Raider and Mr. & Mrs. Smith are looking forward to her return to the screen as a wildfire fighter in Those Who Wish Me Dead and in the upcoming Marvel flick Eternals but 45-year-old Angie would rather be behind the camera and she explained the real reason behind her comeback is she loves directing, but she had a change in her family situation that's not made it possible for her to direct for a few years and she needed to just do shorter jobs and be home more, so she went back to doing a few acting jobs -- that change in her family situation, of course, is her divorce from Brad Pitt, ongoing since their 2016 split and with no bitter end in sight and it could drag on for years
* Catherine Zeta-Jones says it's no secret her 20-year marriage to 76-year-old Michael Douglas hasn't been easy and it wouldn't be normal if there weren't any ups and downs -- it's another Michael, her Prodigal Son costar Michael Sheen, who has friends whispering as both are Welsh and only a year apart, the two have been having a lot of fun shooting the serial-killer drama and they had never met before the series but they keep discovering how much they have in common -- while Michael, who has been linked with Kate Beckinsale, Rachel McAdams and Sarah Silverman, has been with Anna Lundberg for two years, friends can't help worrying because it's a little to close for comfort
Page 8: Star Shots -- Marlee Matlin kicked back during a portrait session in La Canada Flintridge in California, a loaded-down Irina Shayk in a Victoria's Secret photoshoot in NYC, Gavin Rossdale and his dog Chewy leaving tennis practice in L.A.
Page 9: Kelly Clarkson and her battle advisor Luis Fonsi on The Voice, John Stamos at the drive-in premiere of his new series Big Shot in L.A.
Page 10: Rosie Huntington-Whiteley toting her $3800 Bottega Veneta Shell bag in NYC, Niall Horan and Anne-Marie jumped into a classic Jaguar XK120 for a music video in Essex in England, Adam Driver as Maurizio Gucci on the set of House of Gucci on a bicycle in Rome
Page 11: Jay Leno takes a selfie with a fan, Kate Hudson and her daughter Rani busting out some mommy-and-me moves
Page 12: David Beckham filming a commercial for Maserati, Kaley Cuoco working out with ropes, a windswept Olivia Culpo held on tight to pup Oliver while enjoying a sunset ride aboard a boat named after her dog, Miles Teller looked both ways during a cruise in his blue Ford Bronco which is the same car he flipped in a 2016 accident
Page 13: Garrett Hedlund hit the pavement in a jog in Hollywood, Johnny Depp got behind the camera at the photocall for his film Minamata during the Barcelona Film Festival, friendly exes Sara Gilbert and Linda Perry masked up for a walk in L.A.
Page 14: 2021 ACMs -- country celebrates its best in Nashville -- Elle King and Miranda Lambert kicked off the 56th Academy of Country Music Awards by rolling up in a hot ride before performing, Blake Shelton, Dierks Bentley, co-host Keith Urban
Page 15: Maren Morris and Ryan Hurd performed together, Carrie Underwood
Page 16: Margot Robbie inline skating during a beach day in Malibu, Kate Beckinsale carrying her two cats and her dog as she tried to read, Chrissy Teigen and John Legend and their daughter Luna took a silly mid-game family selfie while playing Hedbanz
Page 18: Normal or Not Normal? A sleepy George Stephanopoulos was caught yawning on the Good Morning America set -- normal, Emily Blunt kicked back a little too much at The Jonathan Ross Show -- not normal
Page 19: With a $1400 rainbow Gucci sweater wrapped around her shoulders Selling Sunset's pregnant Christine Quinn with her dogs in L.A. -- normal, Chelsea Handler works out with her dog on her back -- not normal, Zach Braff stuck his tongue out as he took a silly selfie filming the Cheaper by the Dozen reboot -- not normal
Page 22: Fashion -- stars shine in metallic frocks -- Becky G, Gugu Mbatha-Raw, Karen Gillan
Page 23: Miranda Lambert, Cynthia Erivo, Renee Zellweger
Page 26: Travis Barker didn't hold back in his birthday tribute to girlfriend Kourtney Kardashian -- sharing a series of sexy shots with 42-year-old Kourtney, including a NSFW video of Kourtney sucking his thumb and the rocker's risque pics quickly went viral, as did Kourt's TMI essay posted to her health and wellness site Poosh titled "Rough Sex: Love It or Leave It?" -- definitely leave it, if it were up to the pair's kids; 17-year-old Landon and 15-year-old Alabama, who are 45-year-old Travis' children with ex-wife Shanna Moakler, are mortified by their dad's behavior and like most teenagers, the two are active on social media and can't avoid the new couple's loved-up posts and Travis' kids are happy that he's happy, but the PDA is weird and takes some getting used to, while Travis' stepdaughter Atiana De La Hoya, on the other hand, doesn't seem to have a problem as the 22-year-old posted a heart-eyes emoji -- as for spending time with Mason, 11, Penelope, 8, and 6-year-old Reign, Kourt's kids with ex Scott Disick, the pair try to restrain themselves but still the lovebirds are happily oblivious and have a hard time toning it down and Kourt and Travis are just being themselves and going with the flow; they're in love and want the world to know it
Page 27: After 10 months of dating Australian model Vanessa Valladares, Zac Efron is officially back on the market -- 33-year-old Zac called it off with the 25-year-old after things got too serious, too soon and they spent every moment together and it was too claustrophobic for him, as Vanessa, who quit her job and gave up everything to be with Zac, became a fixture on set as he worked on Down to Earth with Zac Efron and he felt guilty that she was giving up her dreams and aspirations to be with him -- despite their split, Zac, who had put his L.A. home on the market and extended his stay in Australia after meeting Vanessa, has no plans to rush back to the States because he has made a lot of friends there and feels at home
* Like many planning their vows during the pandemic, Scarlett Johansson and Colin Jost had to get strategic when it came to their big day -- Scarlett said they wanted it to feel like it had an intentional intimacy as opposed to being something that felt like they were restricted by all these things -- the intimate and small event the pair threw was at their $4 million Palisades, N.Y. home in October and the ultra-private pair kept their guests safe, and the guest list was tiny and it was understated but lovely, just what they wanted -- now Scarlett and Colin have settled in to married life and Scarlett and Colin both like to steer clear of the spotlight which makes them perfectly suited for each other
* Vanessa Hudgens revealed the surprising way she was introduced to boyfriend Cole Tucker, who she's been dating since November -- 32-year-old Vanessa and 24-year-old Cole met on a Zoom meditation group and Vanessa admits that the Pittsburgh Pirates shortstop is just perfect for her and Vanessa and Cole, who debuted their romance on Valentine's Day, moved their budding friendship offline after feeling sparks via the virtual meeting app and they started communicating on their own and found out they have a lot in common -- now Vanessa, who dated Austin Butler for nine years before their 2020 split, is zooming ahead and she doesn't want to rush or jinx things, but she's saying Cole could be The One
Page 28: Cover Story -- Prince Harry and Meghan Markle: Twin Girls -- it was a somber, but loving occasion as the royal family celebrated the life of Prince Philip and amid the pomp and truly touching moments, like Queen Elizabeth sitting frail and alone, viewers waited to see what would happen when Harry and Prince William reunited for the first time since Harry and Meghan stepped down from senior royal duties in March 2020 and just weeks after their bombshell TV interview rocked the monarchy and tensions had been running high before the funeral, but everything went better than expected as William and Harry bonded and united in grief at the loss of their beloved grandfather, the estranged siblings along with William's wife Duchess Kate Middleton, waved away their waiting cars, opting to walk the half-mile from St. George's Chapel to Windsor Castle together and the trio chatted easily as they strolled -- back home in Montecito, Harry has been by pregnant Meghan's side around the clock making sure she takes it easy and the couple are in full-blown prep mode and Harry has been helping baby-proof their mansion and designing the nursery and Harry's been on his hands and knees making the house baby-friendly and he's got the latest, state-of-the-art safety devices installed around the pool -- Harry's promising visit with the royal family has given him one less thing to worry about, but still he and members of The Firm will always have different perspectives and after dismissing William and dad Prince Charles as trapped by the monarchy, Harry was persuaded by Kate to take the first step and she went up to Harry to suggest he have a heart-to-heart with William and their father, then she stepped back; Harry felt nostalgic being back home and it's a work in progress -- Harry made headway with his grandmother as well as he and Queen Elizabeth had a private meeting and spoke for three hours and seeing Harry's face made her smile again and Harry loves his grandmother very much and he's promised to bring his kids back to England later this year and he wants the Queen to spend quality time with them
Page 31: The Home Birth Brigade -- Who needs hospitals? These fearless celebrity moms opted to welcome their babies in the comfort of their own homes -- Ashley Graham, Eva Amurri, Hilary Duff, Gisele Bundchen, Gigi Hadid
Page 32: Kim Kardashian: Billionaire Bachelorette -- months after officially filing for divorce Kanye West, Kim is majorly ready to mingle -- Kanye's miffed that fans think he's the one who got dumped when he simply let her file first
Page 34: Not Boyfriend Material -- celebs share tales of dates gone bad, and guys who definitely didn't deserve a second chance -- Patricia Arquette, Mindy Kaling, Jenny Slate
Page 35: Awkwafina, Emma Watson, Kelly Clarkson
Page 36: For Mom -- for Mother's Day, express gratitude to the No. 1 lady in your life with the perfect gift -- Naomi Watts cofounded the ONDA Mama Box
Page 40: Entertainment
Page 48: Parting Shot -- in honor of Earth Day, Alison Brie kicked off the second year of the Planet Oat Project by planting trees at Rancho Sierra Vista -- the 38-year-old also took to Instagram to bring awareness to the wildlife restoration initiative, noting that a startling three million acres of trees in California have been destroyed by recent wildfires
#tabloid#grain of salt#tabloid toc#tabloidtoc#meghan markle#prince harry#prince william#duchess kate#kate middleton#queen elizabeth#kim kardashian#kanye west#alison brie#tom cruise#hayley atwell#mission: impossible 7#mission impossible 7#cher#kaavan#kaavan the elephant#annalynne mccord#justin theroux#jennifer aniston#roseanne barr#mossimo giannulli#angelina jolie#catherine zeta-jones#catherine zeta jones#michael sheen#travis barker
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Contraband (3.1k words)
Tamara 3/23/2021 - @_ourladytamara
cw’s: CNC, vomit, throatfucking, betrayal, systemic/state violence, demons, gross alien horsecock, guns (but no live rounds)
With trembling motions you shuffle to the front of your apartment and lean against the door, draped in the moonlight seeping in from the single, prison-like window behind you. You’d woken up mere minutes ago to the unmistakably stomach-churning clack of Demonic heels marching up your domicile block’s central stairway, and already the fear’s driven you to sweat. Blocks like these were explicitly human-only, servicing the slaves in the surrounding ammunition plants; Demonic hooves never graced the overcrowded slum without very compelling reasons.
Unfortunately for you, they clearly had one. Their steps were audibly burdened, heavier than the freakish things usually sounded as they marched over the shoddy linoleum flooring. A glance back at the clock read 2:30 AM – you had work in three and a half hours. Nausea struck like a knife. It cut deep and quick into your stomach as you pulled back from the doorway – just in time to jump against the body of your roommate, Ninety-Seven.
That wasn’t actually her name, of course, just like yours wasn’t actually Twenty-Two; it was easier to say than your full designations of 117-654-882-28-97 and 009-655-119-18-22, respectively. Unlike you, though, Ninety-Seven refused to tell you her actual, human name, adamant on her designation. She always weirded you out, obviously still doing so after waking up in the dead of night. Still, she told you she’d been here for years longer, and you chalked her high strangeness to the insurmountable trauma certainly weighing on her young mind.
“Why are you awake, Twenty-Two? It’s just some commotion, isn’t it?” she asked, only the slightest twinge of sleep in her words.
“Ninety, are you fuckin’ for real? Listen.” you hiss, gesturing for her to approach. For a moment she seems to hesitate, fixated on your hand. She shakes her head and comes closer, pressing her ear to the door as you’d been seconds earlier while you hold her shoulder. She cocks her eyes, turning to a scowl; you can hear the Demonic footsteps even standing, now.
“I… okay? What’s the problem?” she replies, almost… befuddled by something. You don’t understand.
“Do you not hear the literal Demons goose-stepping up our stairwell? Why the fuck would they be coming in here so -”
Before you can even finish speaking the alarms begin to blare. You’d lived here a year without even hearing them, and the instant they begin your mind starts to panic. It’s nothing like a human warning signal – it’s essentially a mechanical caterwaul, like the dying yell of someone caught in a machine and ground into paste. Every second it throbs against your skull.
“- early.”
Ninety-Seven looks up at you and widens her eyes, as if elated. The noise blocks your ability to yell at her, every word from your lips now totally drowned beneath the din. You gesticulate, pleading physically where your verbal ones had fallen short.
Without another word she opens her mouth and speaks in tune to the Demonic voice now echoing off every surface.
“BADH AN MARAB QA-ALADAV. YA DAEKAVA MA KADAR FA MAKH.
You cover your ears in pain and lean back against the wall, totally overwhelmed by the panic, noise, and exhaustion. Without thinking you dart away from the door, rushing to the pile of loose blankets and pillows allotted as “furniture” by your Demonic overlords. Ninety-Seven cocks her head and tracks you as you move, still repeating the announcement by heart as it begins to loop in English.
“A CONTRABAND SEARCH IS UNDERWAY.” it, and by extension Ninety-Seven, booms. “COOPERATION WITH ONSITE JUDGES WILL BE REWARDED.”
For a minute longer the Hellish alarm wails before its steel throat closes up – only to reveal just how loud the Demonic footfalls outside have truly grown. Each sounds only a single room away.
You shoot a look at Ninety-Seven, a mix of anger and ringing pain.
“You’ve been through this before?” you ask, darting from the pile of pillows you’d buried your head in for safety towards the girl.
“Of course – they used to be a lot more regular.” she replies, rubbing her legs together. “It was a lot more exciting back then, I think.”
Now beside her, you grab her by the shoulder as to speak more quietly. Knocking – on the door beside yours! It snaps you out of the conversation and draws your eyes inextricably to your own apartment’s flimsy defenses. Ninety-Seven stood between it and you, now glaring at you.
“Twenty-Two, I feel like you’re being overly hesitant.”
“ADDAKH!” comes the scream of a Demon in the hallway. “MAR VAL YGDASH.”
Seconds later, a kick, a thud – screaming and heavy footfalls. A gunshot – the screams grow louder, turning to a howl that chills you to the bone.
“O-Overly hesitant? Hello?” you nearly scream-whisper, attention divided. Something wasn’t adding up. “I’m being overly hesitant because,” you lean in, “there are fucking armed Demons outside our door? N-Ninety, are you fully awake?”
“I’m much more than fully awake, Twenty-Two – I just think this level of recalcitrance towards our Owners is undue.”
Every hair on your neck stood on end. Few things bothered you worse than hearing another human say that word, call them that name – and now it was coming from the only one you thought you’d be able to trust in the nightmare you now knew as life. Nausea reared its ugly head through the swamp of anxiety now living inside you. Next door, the Judges finished their grim duty; their hooves clacked along the red linoleum in the hallway once again.
“W-We have to… o-oh, my God, we have to do SOMETHING, I -” you mumble. This really sets her off.
“No. I’ve heard enough – you’re just like the other ones, aren’t you?” she mutters in reply, pulling away from you and shaking her head. “Just like the ones on level 29, right?”
You blink. You… you knew a couple on level 29. They were odd, definitely unlike you – clearly victims of Hell’s penchant for population shuffling, from Iran or something, you were never sure – but one of the only other friendly faces in the basalt-and-tallow sarcophagus you were forced to call home. During your fifteen minutes of allowed recreation you’d visited them a few days ago.
Something sinks like a rock in your stomach.
“N-Ninety-sev-”
“Is religious literature permitted material, Twenty-Two? Is it?”she barks, far louder than you would’ve dreamed of being knowing who was standing just outside your thin walls. This draws the attention of the Judges, clearly; the footsteps quiet as they whisper among themselves for some time.
They’d shown you their copy of the Quran, hastily handwritten into a falling-apart notepad – their one belonging save what Hell gave them.
A knock on your door. You can’t move, you can’t think – tears well up in your eyes.
“ADDA-” begins the Demon, but her shout is interrupted as Ninety-Seven opens the door.
“Oh, good! You came quickly – I’m glad the report made it in time.”
In your door stood a hulking Demon. She was clad entirely in some kind of black metal and blacker robes, flesh almost entirely concealed. A dim red glow emanated from the lenses of her metallic facemask; you could see muscles rippling beneath the thinner parts of her robe, flexing with each subtle motion.
“Huh?” she replies, regarding the girl for a moment like one would regard a particularly-stupid dog.
A gauntlet-clad hand shoves her out of the way, long finger on the trigger of her shotgun and totally ignoring the girl as she began to undress. You panic, yelping in fear and leaping away from the Demon as she steps closer. An instant later, a gunshot rings out – are you dead? Is it over?
No, that would be far too easy, sadly, and you buckle over in pain as the rock salt pellets slam into your back. It digs into your flesh and forces you to the floor like a hogtied animal. Fuck, you thought the salt shotgun thing was a myth. In a few seconds the pain of impact begins to subside and the burning begins. Every inch of your back is on fire; you grit your teeth and crawl into a fetal position, desperate to undo your jumpsuit yet horrifyingly aware of what undressing in a room filling with Demons would entail.
“Ooooohhhhh, that was you?” replied a third, smaller being, speaking Demonic as she entered behind a second. Your state-mandated grasp on the tongue was definitely weak, but you could still listen in. “My Cliquemate in block administration told me about some overly-enthused human babbling about contraband in-between mouthfuls of cock.”
“Found it.” said the second Demon, her voice a booming, cavernous depth. They laughed together before a hand from the first, their leader, silenced all of them.
“Stop talking to the fucking animals and search – save your breath for the next hundred and ten levels.”
You lived on the fifth.
A steel-clad fist to your stomach knocks the wind out of you and intensifies every ache and burn inside your overwhelmed body. The leading Demon looms high above you, a red-glinted flashlight shining from her shoulder through your tiny shared bedroom, toilet, and closet. Jumpsuits, ration tins, tissues, lubricant – but no contraband. Other than those sun-bleached and coffee-stained pages 24 floors above you, you hadn’t seen an unapproved object in what felt like years.
It didn’t stop them, though. By now Ninety-Seven was already completely nude, a visible line of slick running down her thighs as the two Demons behind the leader began rubbing her with their metallic hands. They prodded at her nipples, slid down her thighs and abdomen toned with years of hard labor; you felt yourself rising to vomit before the leading Judge struck you down again.
“Luckily,” she hissed with a click of her flashlight, “you got stuffed up in here with a delightful little housepet who kept you nice and clean, animal. You ought to thank it for that when we’re through with you.”
“N-Ninety-Seven, what the FUCK?!” you scream, ignoring her words against your own judgment. She doesn’t reply, now taking the third Demon’s fingers into her mouth as she kneels before them on the floor. The Judge grips your jaw in her fingers and pulls your gaze back towards her glowing eyes.
“Clearly she didn’t keep your mind as clean as your living space. What a shame – usually putting you two in a cell kills off resistant personality traits faster than this.”
She brushes a gauntlet against what you now realize is her cock, bulging up against the black fabric of her robe. “Look at this. If it weren’t for your little helper you might’ve been to rebellious to get to taste it. That’d be a shame, wouldn’t it?”
You crawl away in terror, but every tug of your jumpsuit makes the pain in your shoulders and back all the worse. By the time you manage to get an inch away, she grips you by the legs and pulls you back across the linoleum, leaving you between her powerful hooves. From here you can practically feel the heat coming off of her; it radiates like a pot of boiling water even through her armor and padding, most powerfully coming from her crotch.
All this time living in Hell and you’d – rather luckily – had until this point to really look at a Demon up close, let alone prepare yourself for what you inevitably knew came next. Obviously you would’ve preferred to keep it that way; the horror stories you’d listened to for the past years did little to compare to the reality of one standing right above you.
The Judge grips her Hellish leather belt and unhooks it from her waist, dropping the black robe – which you now see is a two-piece loincloth and hood - around her waist to the ground, landing around your neck like a scarf. Her cock pops out unrestricted with a heavy flop. It’s easily the length of your forearm and definitely thicker, with a dripping, flared head. The entire thing reeks of blood, salt, and some savory alien stench your nostrils struggles to even make sense of. Thick strands of gooey pre drip from her slit, one of them snapping off and landing on your forehead.
“I suppose you’ll need a reward for good behavior, won’t you?” she coos, slinging the shotgun over her shoulder and taking her length in hand. “It’s not often we find an entire domicile level without a single piece of contraband!”
“N-”
She squats onto your face before you can muster a syllable. Her weight is crushing almost immediately, forcing the wind from your lungs as she leans her ass back onto you. The heat is overwhelming; buried between her cheeks you have little option but to struggle with every muscle for breath, her taut asshole pressing into your face closer with every motion. You press your entire face into it without so much as noticing, and before you realize what’s happening, you’re halfway eating her out in confusion.
You can make out a pleased chuckle from above you. The Judge’s ass begins moving rhythmically, her hips grinding into your nose. Flailing, you desperately grab at her cheeks for even the slightest leverage – but you find none, your actions coming off as little more than playful pinching; the Judge pops her hips back triumphantly before rising from your face.
“Ugh. I fuckin’ hate it when they’re too enthusiastic – not like those dipshits.”
Your vision is spinning. In a stupor you manage to slink an eye back far enough to see Ninety-Seven on her knees. With both hands she’s enthusiastically stroking the second, largest Demon off between her tits, the third balls-deep down her throat and forcing her neck to distend in a way you were pretty sure human necks weren’t meant to. Her eyes are wide-open, a deeper satisfaction in them than you’d ever seen on the girl.
By the time you return your gaze upwards the Judge is stroking her cock mere inches from your face. The tip dominates your vision, like the barrel of a loaded gun; you tremble beneath it and mutter to yourself.
“Empress, no wonder you two were so compliant. Whores – like usual.” she hisses, briefly touching the head to your cheek. A thick strand of nigh-opaque pre stretched between your face and her tip as she pulled it away. “You’re far warmer than they usually are, though, pig – keep that up, the fear makes you tighter.”
She grabs your head and spreads your lips. A scream is stifled in your throat as her enormous prick is forced down your gullet, stretching your mouth wide open. In processing, so many years ago, they outfitted you with an adjustable ring-gag to test your gag reflex – that was nothing compared to the sheer girth being forced into you now. It splits you open, fucking your mouth like a pussy; by the time she starts to pull out again you can feel the pulsating heat from her grapefruit-sized balls against your cheeks.
Your stomach growls at the intrusion. Even if you wanted to vomit, there wasn’t much place for it to even go; teary-eyed, mouth filling with water, your gag reflex continues to alert your body to the obvious intrusion even as you lay helpless to it. The Judge grips your head in both hands and adjusts her squat before thrusting forward again. She’s using you like a hole, fucking your tear-and-spit-soaked face like one of their relief stations. Just as you feel you’ve had enough, she forces herself deeper and deeper still. You can practically feel it in your stomach, now, your guts being rearranged from the opposite side. Leathery ball-skin brushes against your chin, slick with sweat and liquids you couldn’t even begin to know the origin of.
A trembling hand once again attempts to brush against her ass in defiance. It’s hard to even get a grip on her, now, hips thrusting forward with reckless abandon as she abuses your mouth. Every thought in your head is systematically fucked out of you; your head drops limp in the Judge’s hands, now relying solely on her to keep you upright. Another glimpse at Ninety-Seven; she’s covered in cum from head to toe, what seemed like gallons of it slowly seeping from her mouth and nostrils as she lay on the floor. The two other Demons stand above her, holding their cocks as they bask in the afterglow.
“Hnnf, fuck, s-stay loose like that for – there we go.”
You’re conscious for just long enough to feel the first jet of cum impact the back of your throat – and feel your vision swim as you run out of air. Everything fades to black. Anxiety, strain, and exhaustion had finally done you in – maybe this was the afterlife, after the Grim Reaper juked you out with the salt shotgun earlier?
You were never that lucky, of course. Points of light trickled into your vision like snowflakes. Your floor, your walls, your grim little existence – it was all still here and you were still on the ground. The Demons are dressed and armed, again; they slink out of the room, chatting quietly, as they return to the stairwell, refusing a further word.
Cum seeps from your mouth and nose. It feels like your entire head is full of the stuff; you learn your stomach is just as packed, brushing a hand against your now-distended and semen-filled abdomen. The motion forces some of it up; you roll to your side and heave, vomiting at long last only to bring up more cum and very little else. It soaks into your jumpsuit and sticks to the skin beneath like glue, your entire upper chest and shoulders coated in it. From the amount on your face, the Judge must’ve cum all over you. You wipe it away from your eyes and onto the legs of your jumpsuit.
Ninety-Seven lays in a heap in front of the wide-open door. She, too, is absolutely plastered in the stuff; it clings to her hair, chest, tits, and face, among others where she’d clearly intentionally smeared it. Her body rises slowly with every tired breath, a deep satisfaction on her cumstained lips. You couldn’t have been out for more than a minute or two, but in that time the snitch had clearly tuckered herself out.
Every bone in your body aches. It goes far deeper, into your very soul itself, a frigid burning that seems to annihilate everything it touches. You’d made it so long, dealt with so much, cried and screamed and panicked so often – all to avoid the fate your one remaining friend gleefully brought upon you. It’s more than violation, more than betrayal; you feel like a match snuffed out in a glass of water, just like Ninety-Seven. Hell had broken you, after it had spent so long trying and failing. A glance at the clock: three AM.
You have work in three hours. You drop your head against the cum-soaked floor and cry.
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five’s a crowd [ beatles x reader] part three
chapter summary: Ringo is sweet. George is dumb and emotionally-constipated. At this point you’re more likely to go to jail than pass your midterms. Oh, and Paul is going to get his ass whipped. parts one and two here
warnings: 1.1k of chaos
borhap reference if ya squint. astericks indicate nerdy-ass footnotes which will be at the bottom
masterlist
Even with the nice noise-cancelling headphones you’d gotten for your birthday, you can still hear them going at it in the living room. Every melodic break is punctuated by George’s yelling and Paul’s shrill, defensive hollars. There’s a drum break and, really, you aren’t sure whether that was the crash of a cymbal or something being thrown. You pray it’s the former.
The door to your bedroom opens and Ringo slips in, closing it quietly behind him. Removing your headphones, you only catch the tail-end of what he says.
“-ing to?”
“Huh?”
He smiles and sits next to you on the bed. “I asked what you’re listening to.”
“Oh!” You scoot over to give Ringo more room, not that there is much to begin with—as the only girl, you’d gotten a bedroom all to yourself. This has many perks, such as not having to see the boys’ bare arses and getting to have lots of… alone time. The downside is having the smallest fucking bedroom ever. “It’s some band called the Crickets.”
“Some band?” Ringo takes the offered earbud. “You mean the most popular rock band in the sixties? The first all-woman group to be signed to a record label*, the one that revolutionised the era’s socio-cultural movements?”
“You are a total dork,” you laugh, turning up the volume to one of your favorite songs.
“I grew up in the city where they were formed! ‘Some band’...” He shakes his head with mock disgust. “Don’t disrespect JennyPatsyGilandRita** like that ever again.”
“Why d’you say their names like that?”
“You have to. It’s like… ” Ringo adjusts himself on your pillows and you lean your head on his shoulder, careful not to bump his cast. “It’s like JohnandPaul. You couldn’t say PaulandJohn… that would just be weird.”
“You’re weird.”
“Ace comeback, that was.”
The flat has quieted by now but you don’t notice over your bickering until a knock sounds on the door. George pokes his head in and his face makes an odd expression at the two of you giggling together.
“Hey.” George calls your name softly. “Something, erm, something happened in the kitchen.”
“... what do you mean?”
He looks at the floor. “ItwasPaul’sfault.”
“It was NOT MY FUCKING FAULT,” Paul shouts from afar. You narrow your eyes and hop off the bed, stomping up to George who suddenly looks very terrified.
“When I find out, you won’t have anywhere to hide, Harrison,” you hiss. He takes a very small step back. You press a finger into his (very firm) chest, look him hard in the eye, and then stalk into the hallway.
“You know that scene in Wonder Woman?”
“What?” George blinks, bewildered at Ringo’s non-sequitur. “What are you talking about?”
“Y’know, the one where Gal Gadot throws that bad guy across the pub… and Chris Pine is all-” Ringo stands up and makes a shocked face. “And then the other guy says ‘I’m both… frightened and aroused’ or something like that.”
“Um.”
“Yeah.” The older boy walks past him, pauses, and pats him on the shoulder with his not-bad wrist. “That’s you, Geo.”
And then George is all alone, standing in the doorway to your room. Your headphones are still blaring music. He crosses the room to turn it off and, on second-thought, puts them into his ears and sits down. Ringo’s favorite band. George turns the boy’s words over in his head. Thinks about how happy you had looked, laughing with Ringo just moments before. Falls backwards onto the bed, bouncing slightly on the mattress.
“Fuck,” he says to the ceiling, and the Crickets’ drummer agrees with a particularly loud crash.
---
Fuck is what John says when he sees your expression. “Fuck,” he repeats and then laughs, turning to Paul. “You are so fucking fucked.”
Paul ignores him. “Look,” he says, backing away from your glare. He eyes the weapon you’ve picked up in your hand. “I didn’t mean—I mean, it was really Geo that did it, y’know. He was going off about the whole shower thing, which is really, y’know, not my fault anyway. And then I—well, he—so. That’s why, uh.” He gestures at the wreckage. “Y’know.”
“If you say y’know one more time I will shove this so far up your arse you’ll be tasting espresso for weeks.“
John, who’s been watching this whole exchange like a ping pong match, snickers. “Kinky.”
“Not the coffee machine,” Ringo protests. He’s standing a safe distance away, only a foot from the door out of which he could escape at any given moment.
You’re not even pissed, not really. No, this is funny. This whole day, you’ve been holding in a truly terrible cackle, a tickling pressure that’s been building and building and building. After your conversation with Ringo you’d thought that maybe it would go away (he had that effect on people) but this. This is making bells and whistles go off in your cranium as something in you spirals into insanity. Wheeeeeee! Yes, you’re not angry because it’s funny, it’s absolutely hilarious that the universe has got it out for you, that nothing is going your way.
Paul has spilled coffee all over your stuff. ‘Stuff’ being your textbooks, your lecture notes, your meticulously organized pens. The pages are starting to dry already, large patches of brown blurring words together (of the right chapter!) and making the paper brittle-looking, like the Declaration of Independence you’d once seen on tv. That was the movie with Nicholas Cage, you think to yourself. I hope they have televisions in jail, you comment internally. I haven’t seen that movie in so long!
The whole flat is dead silent and tense, so tense the air feels thicker and no one, not even John, dares to move. One wrong step and the whole thing will blow. Paul stares at you. You stare at the kitchen table. With a surprisingly stable hand, you set the coffee pot back onto the tabletop. It plops down with a wet squelch and—
You laugh. You bring your hands up to your face and just laugh, shoulders shaking. You cry with laughter because your binder is soaked through with what look like shit stains, the floor that had been wet with George-puddle this morning is now sopping with cold espresso, Paul is mouthing Hail Mary’s, and Ringo’s practically got a foot out the door. Slowly, hesitantly, everyone else starts laughing too. George, who has been standing in the hallway the entire time, feels something spidery trickle down his spine.
“I knew you’d come ‘round,” Paul says. He comes to your side of the table and claps a hearty hand on your shoulder.
You stop laughing and smile, smile so hard it hurts. Very, very slowly, you look at Paul’s hand and then his eyes, which seem to realize something with a dawning horror.
“Oh, Paul.” You shake your head and reach up to grasp his hand. He goes to take it away but your grip is vice-like. “I’m going to fucking murder you.”
The door slams shut behind Ringo.
* the actual first all-woman group to be signed to a record label: Goldie & the Gingerbreads, to Atlantic Records in 1964. so this would be true, assuming our pseudo-beatles band was formed at the same time the beebles were (1960)
** in the top 100 girl's names in england around 1944: 2. patricia, 18. jennifer, 23. gilliam, 41. rita. I DO MY FUCKIN RESEARCH Y’ALL
#the beatles x reader#beatles fanfic#george harrison x reader#john lennon x reader#paul mccartney x reader#ringo starr x reader#beatles crackfic#au where the beatles are the crickets#five's a crowd
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---- A Coffe Stain. A Pistol. A Sudden Confession.
Part 1 of 2 of an FBI AU Obi Wan Kenobi x Reader Story. Read Part 2 Here.
a/n: this for u @hellotherekenobi . You made this monster and now you must deal with it (I love u tho thank you for the inspiration this was hella fun to write and I probably wasn’t accurate AT ALL concerning the FBI :)
Word Count: 3.0k oh dear god
You’re wading through the endless piles of busywork while rain taps at the window of the field office building. Your eyes dart to the time display on the seemingly-ancient computer provided by the bureau (you’d asked the higher ups multiple times for replacements, but evidently no one seems to listen to the rank-and-files anymore). 23:08. A groan slips past your lips as you run a hand through your hair. You make a mental note to shower when you get home. And how come your feet still ache from your heels even though you’d barely gotten up from your desk all day? As your thoughts continue to drift sleepily away from the task at hand, the sound of something hitting your desk tugs you out of dreamland.
“Thought you could use a pick-me-up,” a gentle voice whispers, the source of a cup of semi-acceptable coffee. Ah. You’d forgotten that your partner was still at the office. You turn your head slightly to gaze up at Special Agent Obi-Wan Kenobi. He cut his hair. He looks much more…mature, yes that’s the work-appropriate word. He’s missing the silky locks at the back, with that tiny wave at the bottom that you’d stared at on more than a few field missions. The beard was a little longer, too.
Oh god, you hadn’t even bothered to look at him today. You’d rushed to your desk to get an early start on a new assignment. Your heart shrivels out of guilt, and evidently it’s clear on your face. Obi’s eyebrows knit together in concern, an expression you’ve etched into your brain by now. “Is…is everything alright?” he stammered, unsure of what to say to console you.
“No no no! I’m sorry,” you stutter, turning quickly in your chair to fully face him. “Shit, I’ve been so busy with…everything that I didn’t even notice that you cut your hair. It looks handsome, Obi.” He smirks and runs a hand through his hair, sweeping back a few strands that had fallen onto the middle of his forehead. “Yes, I suppose it does. Although, it rather upset me this morning when you didn’t comment. If you had gone to the break room you would’ve witnessed me sobbing on the sofa, drowning in my own sorrow,” he says, as he equips an expression of anguish.
“The couch with the moldy cushion?” You question.
“The couch with the moldy cushion,” he sighs as you theatrically turn to gaze horrified at the break room door. After a few beats of silence, you break into giggles and he looks back at you, a warm smile creeping onto his face. Your gazes lock for a split second longer than your average moment when you conveniently remember something in order to drag your focus away from his stupidly gorgeous azure eyes. “You still having trouble with Sarek?”
He groans and drags a hand down his face. “Don’t remind me,” he grumbles as he trudges to his desk a few feet behind you and collapses dramatically into his chair. You grimace in apology and he gives a half-hearted smile in return. Sarek, a Trandoshan hunter who’d slipped through Agent Kenobi’s grasp several times, had struck again, this time kidnapping an assortment of women. The problem? Despite Kenobi’s talent for making connections, he’d made none between any of the victims that had been reported missing, no matter how many times he combed through their files.
It isn't easy to seep the determination out of Obi Wan Kenobi, but Sarek has almost done it.
You feel his eyes on you as you pivot back to your busywork. As you begin sorting through the manila folders, you take a sip of coffee and set it down. Obi packs up his things and gives you a nod goodbye before strolling out of the building. Going to pick up your cup of coffee for another caffeine charge, you realize you've set it on a file. A few choice curses cut through the silence before you pause, the cup in your hand hovering above a chestnut circle now imprinted on the page. Circled by the cup's stain is a familiar location, Kina's Coven. You wrack your brain to remember where it's from and it hits you: Obi Wan had referenced it when he first talked to you about the case. The connection. This could be it.
You leap out of your seat so fast you nearly ram into Kenobi's desk behind you. If I run I can catch him on his way out, you realize, and barrel through the glass double doors into the hallway. Quickly approaching the doors to the lobby, your hands fly out in front of you to push them open. The little air in your lungs is then knocked out as you collide with something and fall to the ground.
A leather briefcase thumps onto the carpet and you search for the person you knocked over to quickly find a mildly disgruntled but mostly amused Agent Kenobi lifting his head just a few inches in front of you, his breath tickling your cheeks and a grin lighting up his face.
"Hello there."
You look down and see that, while trying to break your fall, you've planted your hands on the plush carpet to either side of Obi Wan's chest. You’re also on top of him, your legs partially layered over his. Your face reddens and you scramble haphazardly to get off of your partner before someone walks in and sees you in such a...compromising position (yes, in the middle of the night, of course).
Thank God for push-to-open doors.
You brush off your pants and roll your shoulders. Despite rambling apologies, he waves you off and straightens his suit jacket. "It's alright," he remarks. "I haven't gotten that much action in a long time."
"Yes, I assumed you hadn't" you quip, a smirk paired with a raised brow painted on your face. "But that's not what I'm here for. I think I found something that will help your case." At that, Kenobi straightens, his eyes searching yours in question.
"Kina’s Coven recently reported one of their dancers missing, a Mirialan named Kaiela Hveti.” you explain, and your partner’s eyes widen.
“Kina’s? Most crimes at that lovely establishment are swept under the rug, are they not?” he asks. “Few of our agents have been able to gather significant evidence against them.” You nod your head towards the door to the hallway and start walking, Kenobi trailing soon behind you.
“Not this one. Evidently Kaiela is a crowd favorite, meaning she isn’t someone they’re willing to lose without a fight,” you remark. “And I’m not just any agent, Kenobi. You of all people should know that,” you say, shooting him a playful wink and pulling open the glass doors back into the office.
Obi lowers himself into his desk chair, hunched over with elbows on his knees. You smile to yourself as you shuffle through the files on your desk with your back to your partner. Part of the reason why the two of you rose through the ranks so fast was your trust in each other; neither one of you was scared of being seen as weak or stupid if they had to ask the other for help. You learned about his “negotiate with deduction and knockout charm until someone ends up firing a gun” method quickly (which worked surprisingly well). He learned about your "figure out everything seconds before you might die" trick, too.
You practically read each other’s minds. You take care of each other.
Is that why your heart has been trying to squeeze its way out of your ribs whenever he utilizes his aforementioned charm lately?
You shake your head in an effort to clear your thoughts and hand Obi Wan the paper with the coffee stain, which he spots (of course) and raises a brow at before his head shoots up.
"You're making the face," you say, smiling softly. His mouth is barely open, eyes wide and searching the document. You wouldn't be surprised if you heard gears grinding in his brain. He doesn't answer, so you comically wave a hand in front of his face. "I'm guessing that this helps…?" you trail off, waiting for Obi to come out of his 'Eureka.' He snaps out of his reverie and beams at you, nearly sending you into cardiac arrest.
"Ok, Kenobi, I can't read minds, so you'll have to elaborate on your discovery," you said, walking back to your desk and sitting on the edge, crossing your arms. He looks at you strangely, so quickly you almost don't catch it, but then his face shifts into neutral before you can raise a brow.
"One of our intelligence analysts found email correspondence between Sarek and someone going by the initials K.H. It was...intimate. They are lovers, or at least they were, from what I could gather," he explains, stroking his beard.
"Did he frequent places like Kina's?" you ask. He shakes his head and you frown. Another dead end is materializing in front of you, as much as you hate to admit it. But all of the sudden, your partner snaps his fingers and grins.
"He didn't frequent the Coven, but if I recall correctly…" he fumbles through a stack of manila folders on the corner of his desk and triumphantly holds up a piece of paper. "Some of his friends operate in that area-"
"And Sarek doesn't want to be seen around them out of fear of being connected with their operations." you finish, nodding to yourself. Obi smirks, reading over the file again. "Little does he know, we've managed to dig up how Sarek is connected to each of them. Not the most rock-solid evidence, but enough to arouse suspicion," he remarks.
"So...are you thinking what I'm thinking?" you smile as your knee bounces in anticipation.
"If you're thinking of paying a visit to Kina's, then yes, I suppose I am," Obi sasses. The both of you share a look before darting up and racing out of the office to get ready.
——
There’s no way I’m getting into a strip club in a pantsuit, you think, staring at the questionable outfits in lockup. After what feels like months of searching, you find an incredibly revealing cocktail dress (much to your chagrin) and pumps. As you look at your new outfit, you sigh. Obi Wan didn’t even have to change out of his suit, and he’s probably waiting for you outside now. Blush blooms bright on your cheeks as you think of how on earth you’re going to keep it together, attempting to look sexy next to one of the most attractive people you know while also trying not to pin him to a wall and aggressively make out with him. Maintaining an air of professionalism is difficult when you’re simultaneously processing newfound, violently intense feelings for your longtime friend. After strapping a holster for your pistol to your thigh, you nod at your reflection in the mirror. Your shaky legs make their way out of the bathroom and head towards the garage. After a nervous deep breath and applying a coat of lipstick, you step out into the lot.
It doesn’t take you long to find Obi Wan leaning up against a jet black Maserati and your heart slams against your chest. He hears the echo of your heels and glances up. Upon seeing you, his whole stance shifts. He straightens his posture and squares his shoulder, straightening his tie and loosening his collar. A soft smile adorns your lips and you relax seeing his boyish panic.
“Ready to go? Have everything you need?” You notice that he combed his hair back into place. Obi clears his throat awkwardly, not something he does often. You’re so used to seeing him cool and collected under pressure and shake your head, nudging his shoulder playfully. “You sure I can bring you to a strip club? I don’t know if you can handle the literal strippers if you can’t handle your friend in a dress,” you tease.
“That’s not— I— hmph,” He mutters, unable to come up with a coherent comeback. Instead, he opens the passenger door for you and avoids eye contact. Was that a tinge of red on his cheeks? You don’t have time to look closer because he ushers you into the car, almost rudely.
——
The electronica pulses in the floor and up through your body as you stalk the bar, searching for anyone that matches the pictures Obi Wan gave to you in the car on the ride there. The two of you had split up, him waltzing down to the dance floor leaving you to shiver at some of the looks these men were giving you at the bar. You risk a glance at the dance floor and immediately regret it.
Two women and one man are practically draped over his shoulders and licking their lips, and you feel a needle prick your heart. You watch his mouth move for a moment. He’s undoubtedly utilizing his honey-sweet charm to trap one of those “friends” into spilling valuable information. Jealousy is racing through your veins like the venom of a snake. Quickly, you focus on the task at hand before he can catch you staring. It’s a good thing that you do: you spot one of the men you’re looking for. His name is Orwen, and he’s one ugly son of a bitch, with pale skin and a scar running horizontally across the top of his bald head.
When you slide gracefully onto the seat beside him, you make sure to accidentally hike your dress up to show the little bit of thigh that wasn’t already exposed in an effort to grab his attention. It works. He worms a thick arm around your waist and you try to swallow the bile rising in your throat. Instead, you focus on the cold metal of the handgun on the thigh farthest from him.
“Aren’t you a tall glass of whiskey,” Orwen slurs as he yanks you towards him by your waist. With all of the effort you can muster, you force a snake-like smirk onto your face and lean into him enough to smell the cheap beer on his breath.
“And I suppose a handsome fellow such as yourself is looking for a drink.” He gives you a wolfish grin and hops off the stool, roughly snatching your arm. He begins to drag you towards a side room. You venture a guess that it’s used for more…private activities.
——
Little do you know that your partner spots you from the dance floor. As soon as he sees Orwen tug you away from the bar, his easygoing charm evaporates. Anger bubbles in his stomach and he follows a stealthy distance away from the pair of you. He saunters to the room you’re shoved into. A “do not disturb” light is on, but he knows that there are no locks on the doors to these rooms for safety reasons. He is steady as he reaches into his suit jacket to place a hand on the holster holding his pistol, but not pulling it into view so as not to cause a scene.
When he opens the door, it seems he’s arrived late to the party. Orwen is lying on a neon pink bed with his head against the wall, hands behind his head. You, on the other hand, are at the end of the bed, pistol aimed straight at the raging boner in Orwen’s skinny jeans.
“Am I interrupting anything?” Obi asks, walking to your side. You glance at him out of the corner of your eye and shake your head, grinning.
“No, actually, you’re right on time. Help me with this?”
“As you wish,” he mock bows, and moves to restrain Orwen. But before he can, a shriek echoes through the crowd.
You and Obi glance at each other before you run out to check on the situation. One of the women sucking up to your partner has taken one of the workers hostage. The girl sobs as a knife is pressed just enough into her throat to draw a line of blood. You whirl around to glance at Obi Wan.
“So the redhead gave you nothing? ‘Cause now she’s got a hostage and a knife,” you snap. Obi Wan swiftly handcuffs Orwen to the bedpost and scans the situation out on the dance floor. He cringes.
“Anyone tries to stop her and it’s game over for her hostage. We need to negotiate with her and find out what she’s after without setting her off,” he reasons. You huff and he raises a brow.
“Maybe if you weren’t busy flirting with her we wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place.” You immediately regret your words as soon as they leave your mouth. You’re tired and cranky and you didn’t mean them but seeing your crush sweet-talking her earlier certainly wasn’t aiding your struggle.
“I was only fraternizing with the woman to see if she had any information, you know that,” he says calmly, though you can see him tense.
“Oh, really? I don’t see why you wouldn’t full-on flirt with her, she’s certainly a catch,” you snark, rapidly descending into a defensive position in this stupid argument that you’re really starting to wish never happened. But fire is in his eyes when he turns to you and stops the turning of the world with a soft reply.
“Because she isn’t you.”
#Obi Wan kenobi#Obi Wan Kenobi x reader#star wars#Star Wars prequels#fanfic#fanfiction#me? writing? more likely than you'd think
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Sunday Stumped Day 29
It’s another Sunday Stumped Day!
Sometimes we straight out get stumped. So every few months we will pick a Sunday when we’ll post of a list of asks that we need your help on.
This time around we have focused on Asks that are looking for specific fics.
If you know the answer to any of these asks please shoot us a message/ ask/ with the Post number and the fic details and we’ll add it and give you a shout out with our thanks. Any links you can provide will also be super helpful.
Thanks!
Post 1 , Post 2 , Post 3, Post 4, Post 5, Post 6, Post 7, Post 8, Post 9, Post 10, Post 11, Post 12, Post 13, Post 14, Post 15, Post 16, Post 17, Post 18, Post 19, Post 20, Post 21, Post 22 , Post 23, Post 24, Post 25, Post 26, Post 27 and Post 28 can be found here - and there are still fics we need your help with.
495. theman189-blog said:
Also looking for a growing together fic where peeta and katniss are painting a room ar one point and they get in a paint fight, at the end when peeta has katniss over his shoulder she draws a heart in paint on his lower back
494. theman189-blog said:
Hi there, just read a fic where katniss and peeta were peacekeepers and fall in love called protect and serve, and I could have sworn there was another one where they're peacekeepers and fell in love but had a more concrete ending and I cant remember it... any thoughts?
493. breakmeaswitchson said:
Hi! So I posted asking about this on a sub in Reddit and got directed here, it's not specifically an Everlark one (I don't think) but if you could help I'd be so thankful! Basically, it took the characters from the 74th Hunger Games, but the twist was that they all had to work together in designated groups? And (I think) weren't allowed to turn on each other until nobody else was left. I'm pretty sure Rue and Clove were on a team together, and I think the setting involved abandoned buildings.
492. jayana90 said:
Hi! I'm looking for a specific fic from Peeta's POV. I read it about a year ago & now I can't find it. It begins at his house in 12 with his family, then traces nearly all of the Hunger Games trilogy. It ends with a chapter with Peeta & Katniss living in 12 years later with their kids and a bakery. I think they loved cheese bread? It was really long and so good, I hope to find it again. V smutty.
FOUND! The Sexual Frustrations of Peeta Mellark by PeetasAndHerondales, which has sadly been deleted. - thank you, mistressnightshade!
491. allflowerscatchthesunlight said:
Fic name needed: I recall Peeta was taken by the capitol and then there was trackers embedded into his skin or something and he was found by the squad while in the capitol to kill snow. They cut it out of him. Also katniss was pregnant, but miscarried.
Found! Secret Wishes, Secret Kisses by @katnissdoesnotfollowback -- thank you KDNFB!
490. jsth2obooks said:
Hi I read this fix a while ago and now I'm trying to find it. It's Modern day Katnisss and Peeta have to go to a high school reunion an they pretend to be either together/engaged. At the end they end up with a child. Thanks in advance
FOUND! Somewhere That’s Green by Jlala. Thank you, @fangirlingoverquotes
489. uglydora15 said:
I read this fancition about Katniss and Peeta post mockingjay and Katniss was pregnant I think for the second time and Peeta has a flashback and Katniss caught him kissing someone else in the bakery and he had to beg for her forgiveness
Possibly There Are Still Worse Games to Play- The Second Part of Our Journey by panskiss123. Thank you, @sunsetsrmydreams
488. bad-fad said:
Hi so I think there’s a fix where mr. Mellark like takes in katniss when she’s young (I don’t think prim existed in the story but I could be wrong) and she grows up with the Mellarks but I can’t remember?? If not maybe some recs along those lines
Possibly - “Kinship” by Misshoneywell - thank you @endlessnightlock
possibly Star by HGRomance - thank you @nightlock-89
Possibly the deleted Lion’s Tooth by Alexabee
487. craftydiva0828 said:
Looking for a story where after the war, Katniss rides the trains searching the districts for Peeta; people search for loved ones by posting their pictures at the train depot bulletin board.
FOUND! when the far-gone dead return - writingforhugs (Thanks, @ladymurphyevermore!)
486. bookworm06 said:
I was wondering if you guys know about a fic where Peeta woos katniss slowly, they dare secretly for a long time i think. And then Katniss comes out in this beautiful orange dress(peeta’s favorite color) to announce their engagement. She’s dressed up for a feast or party in the district or something! I loved this story but can’t even remember the name 🤦🏻♀️
FOUND! - I Knew This Would Have Happened Anyway by @abk1973 - thank you, @litharalen
485. cowrintimrousbeastie said:
Hello! This is actually the first time I'm posting a question, I usually enjoy doing the detective work. This time though, I've looked high and low and can't find it... it's a drabble posted on tumblr in several parts. Peeta is living with his girlfriend Delly but during one of his baking workshops discovers that this longtime best friend Katniss is in love with him (she has him as her phone screen saver). She works at the library? He confronts her and she says forget it as he is happy w/Delly..
FOUND! By @cowrintimrousbeastie herself! It is How Long by @ra3lynn3. Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 , Part 4 and Part 5.
484. beautiful-harmony1 said:
Hello! Thank for your great work. I am looking for a fic I read a while ago. Post-mockingjay. Katniss is really sick and Peeta comes homes a realises. He takes care of her. On her “death bed” she talks about this that would have happened between the two. I’m pretty sure some bursts in and say “we found a cure”. Thank you so much
483. thehopefuldandelion said:
So I’ve been craving to read this fic that hopefully I didn’t make up and I’ve been trying to remember it’s name. All I remember is that Katinss and Gale(I think) are dating but when Gale would go to sleep Katinss would text Peeta. I’m pretty sure they were coworkers and couldn’t date bc of this. I know that she broke up with Gale but that’s all that my brain can remember. I’m sorry if this is vague or you can’t find it. I just wanted to read this again. Thanks for all you do for the community❤️
FOUND! This is After Hours by SoThere -thank you, @mendontprotectyou!
482. redhoodhungergames said:
I’m looking for a fic where peeta goes to this hotel (or something) and finds Katniss who works there as a singer. I remember when talking we hear that Katniss is from Virginia
481. just-absolutely-super said:
There’s a pre-epilogue fic I read about Katniss and Peeta growing back together. I can’t remember all the details but I think in the fic Katniss finds out Peeta painted Prim and it upset her? Toward the end she’s outside his bedroom door and confesses to him that she loves him. Thank you!
Possibly - The List of Words by MyKonstantine - thank you, @jennagill
480. peetniss27 said:
OK i must be going crazy, but this fanfic is about panem being a bunch of islands and they all do a computer session and are matched with their spouses after being “reaped” and Katniss was dating peeta and ended up with gale. It was called the islands but idk the new name please help!!!!!
FOUND!
Are You Leaving Me? - iloverueforever (*Thank you, @superchocovian!)
479. uniquepizzacollectionblog said:
Hi, i"m looking for a fic where katniss and peeta and best friends and have slept with each other in the past and now the sexual tension is coming back, maybe you guys know of this story?
478. xgetawaycar13 said:
Hiiii so I’m looking for a fic in which Katniss and Peeta get married in catching fire by order of snow and they are also forced to have children but I remember that at some point someone told Katniss about how all the girls at school liked Peeta so she got jealous and have him a blowjob Thank youuu I already look through your master list about marriage in catching fire but I couldn’t find it:(
FOUND. This is Have Heart, My Dear by monroeslittle. Thanks @finestunicorn.
477. ochri said:
Hi i'm looking for this fic from fanfiction It's a post-MJ fic and there's this one chapter where katniss peels? her skin off her fingers and then Peeta takes her to hospital. That's all I really remember :/
476. nikki-pondtheauthor said:
hey im curious if there are fanfics in which peeta learns how to use a bow and shoot arrows (taught by katniss). bonus if he does this in hunger games. im sure ive a read a fanfic before, that was awesome in my opinion because it is a bit out of character for him but highlighting the fact that he is a survivor too and can handle weapons even if he is more a friendly persona
475. white-dandelion-seeds said:
Hey, can you find me this story- Peeta helped Katniss to escape when her family was being killed. But he got captured and was made a slave. Later he helps Katniss to take revenge of the death of her family
474. chippedcupsandbrokenhearts said:
Ok do you know the name of Fic where Katniss finally gets away from her abusive marriage with gale and goes back to her family. They didn’t know she was being abused. She falls in love with Peeta and I remember at one point gale found her and her family drives him out of town. I read this YEARS ago and now I just randomly had the urge to reread it but can’t remember the name. Thank you!!!
Possibly - A Safe Place by HavishamWard,but this fic has been deleted. Thank you, @endlessnightlock
473. jillpill55 said:
Hi, I love your page and have read probably a hundred fics because of it. I hoping you can help me find this fic I read a couple of months ago. Peeta was captured and when he came back he couldn't kiss Katniss because of a implant snow had put in peeta's leg. I would be a mutli-chapter and may or not be finished. Thanks
Possibly - Rekindling by ShiningCity. Thank you, @sunsetsrmydreams
472. svmn14 said:
There was a story about Peeta suffering from an undetected hijacking attack timed 10 years after the last Games where he was designed to hurt Katniss
FOUND! This is Broken: Scenes from the Sequel by MockingJayFlyingFree. Thanks @sunsetsrmydreams
471. hiyosakura said:
Hello! I was wondering if you could help find this everlark fic. I’m not sure if it’s completed or not but it also has hayffie in it a bit I think. So the story is that k and p fall in love before their games and they meet at their tree in school or something but then they get reaped and I can’t remember what happens after that but during the quarter quell Katniss is actually pregnant and Peeta and Katniss are able to communicate with their lips touching.
FOUND! That’s 74th Hunger games Challenge: We Always Were - Jamie Sommers(*Thank you, @superchocovian!)
470. ptx-holic said:
Hi, i’m looking for a fic where katniss is in a relationship with gale and then she met peeta and they are in a relationship but they caught katniss having two relationship and katniss move to somewhere and then she came back few years later and met peeta again. I’m sorry if this is confusing for you but i can’t find it. Thank you :)
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