#which means i have to write what i want to read. why. cruel world | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

diejager · 5 months

Note

Hallo! Truly loved the MonsterAU stories! Wonderful, amazing writing!

Would it be possible for you to write: what if human!reader was turned into a chimera?

Akin to this:

Feel free to ignore!

Chimæra

Pairing: Monster 141 x Chimera!reader

Cw: science experiment, human torture, human testing, gore?, blood, canon-typical violence, unethical human experiments, kidnapping, child abuse, malnutrition, child neglect, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 3.6k (A/N): credit to @bluegiragi’s monster 141 designs.

They were tipped off by an anonymous source that some shady and highly illegal things were being done in a small and remote town near the border of Belarus, their ongoings unknown to both the government and public of their country, but someone had given Laswell a file containing all the horrific tests conducted within the closed walls of the innocuous-looking compound —a laboratory dressed as a simple military base. The folder held snapshots of emails and files sent between scientists and researchers, small indications of what was being done to both humans and monsters, yet withholding important intel about certain things. It disclosed the location, the names and faces of every worker and leading figure in the compound, the number of security and their schedules, and what was done, but not what was truly happening, it left small clues, sublet words here and there with hidden meanings —never clear images, blurry ones as if the person was in a rush.

Despite not having clear indications of the illegal activities, Laswell had enough to have 141 sent to take it down, to bring the dehumanising lab to its ground and burn it down. She didn’t have trouble convincing them, it was telling enough to let them read the condensed files for them to read, to see themselves the monstrosity being done to children and monsters they took, kidnapped from around the world to be left at the deceitful hands of crazed scientists. There wasn’t much to be found outside it, the base wore the facade of a benevolent patron, bearing the crest of kindhearted investors wanting to rebuild rundown houses and reconstruct rough and broken roads and paved streets in the town they took to hide. It worked for the most part, they profited from this by acting without raising any suspicion from anyone, neither the authorities nor the people.

“Christ,” Gaz swore, looking down at the words in the file he received, the teased truth and the dreadful treatments through a thick layer of secrets and subtle wording, the only clear intel was from the straightforward emails sent to and from researchers and the heads of the facility, unabashed and shameless bragging of their success and the narrative to which these subjects could be used. “Why did it take so long?”

A recurrent theme of these was about a certain subject, it was about C34, spoken with such pride and joy about their creation, the work of the new world and the future made within these walls. Most emails were the exchanges between them about C34’s training, the ongoing treatments and every successful mission and exercises, they spoke of C34 as if they were a dog, a rabid mutt they captured and took on the task of domesticating it. It was demeaning, degrading and cruel, to look at another being as something lower, something needing domestication —it went against every rule and law put in place to protect humanity, the many conventions sworn to protect the goodwill and security of the innocents.

“We’ve had our suspicions before,” Laswell sighed, the images of the screen switching with the small click of her control, laser pointing at the images of various weapons cache and illegally procured weapons. “There was a slip up in the shipping, it was dropped here-” she motioned to a circled area in the map, a closeup of a secluded road near the town, “and we were able to retrace it to the facility. We needed more intel about the facility before acting and we needed to know what we're facing here, if we should send a team or send you.”

“What now?” Price tilted his head back, smoke leaving the sides of his frown, a deep and unpleasant one. He couldn’t even look at the intel given with a straight face, the shadowed truth of cruelty and dehumanising acts done by humans. “Figured you send us after seeing this, Laswell?”

Laswell nodded, jumping to another slide, showing blurred images of subject C34, a blurry figure, tall and imposing in every way possible. They stood high, stature seemingly one belonging to a monster or hybrid: on four legs and the wide, familiar shape of wings, everything about C34 cried monster. Perhaps one they captured as a child, taken from their mother and kept in this cell. There were many pictures of this one, blurry and disfigured, but others had smaller shapes, the size of children with various characteristics.

“Steamin’ bloody Jesus!” Soap spat, disgust dripping from his tone in waves, unending as were the other’s curses, each holding their level of horror and repugnance. His face was wound tight, brows dipped lowly and lips pursed, he balled his fists, anger rising within him with every image he saw, the deplorable conditions and the care given to the monsters —what could they even expect from this shady company engineering monster and human DNA to fit their preferred narrative, for money, for reputation, for strength. “We ‘ave tae do somethin’ about this, Price!”

Soap - Johnny - had always been the more emotional one, letting his good heart lead his decisions when the situation seemed to fit it. His wolf made him more susceptible to emotional attachment, a pack mentality driven deeply into his mind and heart, he was viciously loyal and wore his heart on his sleeve, uncaring of how he’d be hurt by a betrayal, he simply saw the best in the world, something many couldn’t after a while, but Soap could, Johnny was a good man at heart. That’s why he reacted the most out of everyone, voicing his distaste and hate, his need for revenge and the sanctity of the lives being stolen in the facility.

Soap pushed Price to agree, seeing no reason not to lead the breach, to uncover everything done to innocent lives. His eyes connected to the man hidden in the darkness, his blue eyes gleaming with fierce justice, a contrast to the wraith who lay in silence, abhorrent and seething quietness. Ghost peered at him, head tilted up with white pupils darkened by black eyes, death layering off him with calmness. He gave Soap a curt nod, affirmation for him to continue to voice his mind, to help those in need.

“Seems like it’s been decided, Kate,” Price gave her a lopsided smirk, amber eyes narrowed with what could be read as anger, teeth sinking into the girth of his cigar, ash falling. “When are we going?”

Her lips parted in a proud grin, eyes gleaming with something dark and wrathful. She leaned on the table, head held high and shoulder broad while she flicked off the projector:

“Wheels up at 1500 tomorrow.”

You stared down the man before you, watching him tremble under your cold gaze, steps hesitant to approach you despite being seated, body prone on the hard floor you called a bed. He was new, possibly recently employed and his boss - or his direct manager - played a dirty game with him. It was some kind of rite of passage for every new employee courageous enough to accept their recruitment, all bright-eyed geniuses wanting to build their place on earth with forthgoing discovery, desperate and narcissistic; yet they were so easily tricked into you cage, locked in by cackling and grinning guards and coworkers.

He smelled young, fresh-faced and a bit nervous, most were when they first saw you. You remembered everyone who walked in, the smell of fear and anxiety, the disgusting scent oozing off their bodies, rotten and putrid like a rotting corpse. You would’ve gagged and choked if you weren’t used to it, having grown close to the smell of death, calling the reaper your friend. You weren’t bothered by him, only the cart he was wheeling over, a big and heavy cooler that smelled fresh. He was made to bring you food by his boss, a cruel joke played on every new scientist who was always so eager to meet you before cowering in terror once the lock clicked.

Standing before your third cage, he unlocked the small hatch and, with effort and a loud grunt, pushed the cooler into the hole, big enough for a big cooler but small enough to fit your arm through it. You waited until he stumbled away, distancing him from you before reaching for the container, it was light, weighing little in your palm. They fed you raw meat, sometimes buying the fresh catch of a Belarus hunter, usually an elk or a wild boar, but if they were lucky, a bison or a bear, other times they would have conserved meat shipped from outside the town, bigger cities or outside the border.

Today was an elk, the meat cold and free of rot, it smelled as good as a fresh kill did, bloody and heady. You ripped into it without care, tuning out the loud retch from the scientist as you gorged on your meal, claws tearing it in half and biting into the bloody meat. Blood rolled down your lip, painting your cheeks crimson and staining the cream-coloured rag they considered a shirt. It would be changed after your meal, as it always was. Despite the elk weighing around six hundred kilograms, you finished it quickly, with pointed teeth cutting and pulling flaps of meat and ligament, blood spraying and dirtying the metal ground near the hatch.

It was filling, albeit cold. You cleaned your hands of blood, licking it off like a grooming cat, tongue laving over the sharp edge of your claw and under your blunt fingernails. You peered at him from under your lashes, eyes gleaming in the darkness. You watched - pleased with yourself - him shudder, face growing green with unnerve at your show. You knew he was desperate to leave, to get a breath of fresh air outside of your cell, you understood his fear and wanted him to suffer for helping your owner, the man watching over your training, but you wanted him gone before he emptied his stomach on your floor. So you pushed the cooler out, clawed arm breaching past the hatch to leave it farther from your cage.

He left hastily, legs shaky and face pale.

“I want a bison next time,” you growled, words rolling off your tongue huskily from its rare use.

It looked as inconspicuous through the NVGs as it did in the pictures, a few grey buildings built lowly to hide an immense labyrinth dug into the ground, secret passages crossing unending halls with locked doors and tipped with surveillance cameras to watch over the whole facility. They studied the very walls that made this place a secret fortress, from the body to its heart, like mounting a brigade against a castle, Laswell’s team found the few hidden entrances that connected to the lesser-used passages, winding through many hallways and wide vents, big enough for humans but too tight for monsters the size of C34. Task Force 141 led the mission, infiltrating the base under the darkness of night where they could crawl and slink through shadows to catch what they hunted. They were joined by Marines, all experienced and skillful, wearing scars like a badge of honour. It would either be a quick in and out, or a long and strenuous infiltration.

Price took Gaz and led half of the Marines through the west, breaching the lab from above. They pushed in steadily, relaying information and physical cues to Watcher - Laswell - with a body cam recording everything they saw, the facade they wore above ground, hiding their dark enterprise. Ghost, as usual, has Soap watch his six, following closely behind him with puppy-like loyalty and the other half of the Marines. Team Two’s - Delta - mission started through the underground passage they sniffed out, a long and unwinding hall that went straight through the heart of the facility. Ghost’s team went dark, needing the cover of silence to stay hidden in a highly protected area of the base to run this clandestine mission. They spoke only when needing to, to make calls, to reaffirm intel or to let both Bravo and Watcher know a change, the tech team in the temporary safe house a few miles away from the compound watched through the cams, from the subtle change in the air to a jarring lead to what was happening.

While Price and Gaz worked on creating a distraction, taking a load off team Delta’s shoulders, they could work through the system faster and more efficiently with the fire taken off their backs and front. It was controlled chaos for both teams, creating a mass discordance within the enemy lines: panicked higher-ups at the sudden attack, while they had a small squad of personal soldiers, they were unprepared, taken by surprise by both teams attacking on two fronts; and confused mercenaries, their quiet and boring schedules made them lose the edge of suspicion, of wariness towards what awaited them and the sheltered job with little to no action apart from a few failed escape attempts by the subjects.

“Delta 0-1 moving in,” Ghost mumbled into the coms, his team following him closely, rifle held tightly with the muzzle pointed forward as they crossed the threshold of section C, heading towards the one holding the monster subjects.

They left behind them groups of bodies, slumped over the walls or limp on the ground, blood painting the sterilised and glossy walls, turning the once white hall into a grotesque place, dead bodies covering the length of the corridor like the ones they walked through before, leaving the stench of death that even the Marines could sniff out. It wasn’t clean - they weren’t aiming for it to be clean - but they wouldn’t need it to be clean when the Laswell would send a clean-up team to deal with this, Ghost would steal a bite before they arrived, quenching his hunger for revenge with them.

A few guards stayed to watch over the cells, doors unlocked by a keycard that most guards kept in their back pocket, Ghost would have to take one off a dead body. Under Ghost’s cover, Soap dashed to the other side of the hall, taking a few with him to corner the mercenaries, boxing them into a closed hallway until they all died. Despite a few of the Marines taking shots, bruising the skin under their plate, black and blue blossoming like a bloody flower under the thin layer of skin, they kept their heads high and minds clear, moving forward without a misstep or hesitation. Soap swiped a few cards from the bodies, throwing one to Ghost.

“Delta 0-1 to Watcher, can you hear me?”

“Solid copy, Ghost,” Laswell voice rang out clearly, reaching his ears in seconds.

“We found the cells,” his eyes roved over them, white paint over thick, cement walls to hold whatever they locked into the cells, perhaps the children the saw or the big one, C34.

“Do you have the keycards?”

“Affirm,” Ghost growled slowly, hearing Laswell's confirmation to continue. “Going in.”

He tapped the pad, a loud beep ringing in their ears as the lock’s mechanism creaked to life, unlatching from its metal hold to let them in. Both he and Soap walked in, leaving the others to watch their backs while they surveyed the first room. It was dimly lit as it was bare of any decorations apart from a visible toilet, a small sink and a few metal beds. It looked like any usual cells they came across, made barren and empty of anything useful to prevent the prisoners from escaping or causing a ruckus, but the people they kept in these cells were children. Soap swore under his breath at the sight of children huddled together, seemingly no older than 12, he lowered his rifle. They were backed into a corner, three older kids holding a younger one in their arms, protecting her from them, from whoever meant to harm these children.

They looked malnourished, left to slowly rot in these cement boxes until the scientist found something worthwhile in them, their cheeks sunken in, eyes droopy and swollen with bruises - they were beaten, it made something ugly rear its head inside Ghost dead heart - and lips dried. One was armless, having wings that they used to cover both of their cellmates, naked with only feathers covering their body, this one looked more like a harpy than it did human. The two others had arms, both having the lower half of a mammal, neither of them was sure which four-legged mammal it was, but one had a pair of wings, while the other’s back was bare of anything.

“We’ve found the children.”

You could hear the chaos from your cell, the blaring alarm and the smell of death. The building shook from its foundation, vibration emanating from both the ground floor and the basement, just farther from your hall, the closed and sectioned-off area. They separated you from the defective ones, all your young mistakes they made after achieving success —you. They tried to recreate it, but it never came out how they wanted it. Maybe it was a mistake on their part or maybe it was the lack of a certain gene in their DNA, a subtle difference that you and the rest had. You didn’t want to know and you didn’t want them to succeed a second time, it was painful, the shift, the tests and the change, the storm of pain, terror and confusion weren’t worth this power.

You could hear the booming sound of gunfire, a loud ricochet of the bullet when the nitrocellulose sparked and sent the bullet outwards, finding its destination in the warm flesh of human guards. You usually enjoyed this kind of chaos if you knew what started it, and laughed when something caused trouble for your captors, but you were cautious of this one. You neither knew who thought to disturb the peace nor did you know who was behind this, their scents strange and the sound of steps unknown. All you knew was that their steps were heavy, out of breath but pushing their way into - what you thought to be - section C. The place they kept the young and willful.

You might be blinded by your cell, but the guards outside your confinement knew how to talk, their chatter and barking orders loud enough for you to hear through the thick walls. From them, you knew they were strangers, unknown players on your board of pawns. You didn’t know their goal, whether they were here to let you out or keep you in a cage of their making, but you knew they were a gamble on your fate. As the noise got closer, you sat down, crossed your paws and waited, cautiously awaiting to see what your verdict would be.

Strangely enough, there was a different section, separated from the other one by many gates and stricter security, but they were able to break through it. Security was concentrated in one hall as if the monster they locked at the end of this hallway was of big importance. It had higher security, stronger and thicker. Ghost wondered if it was to keep the monster in or keep people out, either way, this meant that they found the thing they first came here for: the trained and dangerous subject C34.

Ghost was apprehensive about opening this metal door, built taller than any doors he’d seen, it was as wide as it was tall, metres over what would be considered normal for a human or monster, similar to the wide gates that protected British castles, tall and imposing, but the most worrying was it’s vast amount of security measures. He thought back to the blurrier giant he saw in the picture, their shape indescribable and otherworldly, almost alien-like. His eyes met Soap’s reassuring ones, standing steadfast and unyielding to do good in the world. So with a nod, Ghost worked through the locks and scans of the heavy, metal door made to keep this cement cage closed. This door clicked loudly, echoing down the hall with ominous intent, foreseeing something damming and destructive.

Yet they hadn’t expected to see another cage within the cage, a box made of reinforced glass, large and robust and inside of it was another cage, a rough metal one with bars for walls, a sick joke of a bird’s gilded cage. It would’ve seemed almost exaggerated to have three layers - three different cages - to keep one subject safely locked up until he caught sight of the monster. Lying on the cold, metal ground with legs folded in, tail curled around them and staring at both him and Soap with cautious curiosity. It looked like a gryphon if it were more reptilian than a mammal, this monster had a human torso, a head wearing a stoic expression, dressed in rags. Where there would normally be legs was the body of a bird, an eagle perhaps from the golden-brown plumage and reptilian legs from the knee down, followed by a fully scaled back, hind legs and a strong tail. Each toe was tipped with a sharp claw, big and deadly if it got its hands on someone, it could easily rip into anyone without putting in much effort. The biggest thing about it was the folded wings, feathered and equipped with a talon. If it could fly, these wings would be powerful.

He understood why they kept it locked, it was neither man, monster or hybrid. It was a beast of human creation, a creature made to be at the peak of its condition. It was smart, he could see it, the glint in its eyes and the pursed lips, mien kept monotone and calm —observant.

What did Laswell sign them into?

Taglist: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @yeetusspagheetus @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @havoc973 @angelcakes-22 @cassiecasluciluce @ramadiiiisme @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @ki-cant-spel @im-making-an-effort @love-dove-noora @jinxxangel13 @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @mul-pi @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly

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elaemae · 2 months

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The premium version of human is here to wreak house, mfs.

[Twst x ObeyMe!AFAB!reader]

CHP. 7

Again, I thank y'all for the reblogs, likes and comments guys, it really helps me :)

CW: Blue pronouns or address for MC every time they get mistaken for a guy. Also, I'm a potty mouth so MC is too.

Inhale..

Exhale....

Inhale......

Exhale.......

Inhale.........

Ex-fucking-hale.......

You're about to have a stroke right now.

You should've just went back to the goddamn infirmary instead of checking in on these obnoxious, bitch-less, probably father-less, motherfuckers.

It's just cleaning windows!! How the hell can you mess up like this?! Why the fuck did the cafeteria chandelier get involved??

GODDAMNIT!! WHY IS YUU INVOLVED AS WELL?! AHHHH—!

*One eternity of screaming like a banshee later*

After sending those damn kids and cat away to get some sort of magical stone in some godforsaken mine, you wrangled with the headmaster for at least two hours to prevent him from writing up the expulsion papers of Yuu and that Blue-haired kid who was mostly innocent about the ordeal.

(Meanwhile, encouraging him to kick that Ace kid and the damn cat off the school. You ain't about to let audacity run free rn, mostly because you feel yourself start genuinely tweaking as you almost got possessed by the urge to sucker punch someone's soul out of their body.)

[Satan perked up, there it was again.

That distinctive spark of wrath that he can feel through your pact with him is both concerning and comforting.

On one hand, the anger he feels means that you're alive. And seeing that what he's feeling through the pact is mostly annoyance, then that must mean that nothing marginally bad or traumatizing had happened to you yet.

You're actually more pissed off in a 'someone-had-the-audacity-to-eat-my-snacks' kind of way more than anything else, meaning that you're safe for now.

But on the other hand, he doesn't know how long that temporary safety will last.

There's also the fact this is the fourth time he'd felt that spark of 'I-wanna-punt-someone-into-the-fuckin-sun' kind of anger from you, which is worrying because it hasn't even been 48 hours since you were kidnapped by some mf.

He shook his head, calling upon a subordinate (read: Devoted fan) to collect more and more books to learn what type of teleportation and sleeping magic was used in your kidnapping.

With the massive search party spanning all three realms that they'd called upon, they will find you sooner or later.

And once they do...

Well... You'll need to get used to being with someone at all hours of the day.]

*Passive-aggresively reminding Crowley that he can't kick out an innocent kid for something they didn't directly do as they had no way of stopping the events that transpired.*

["You don't want the word to get out that you let an innocent teen roam around in a foreign world with absolutely nothing to their name and nobody to protect them, right?"

"That is true, but I still can't just let this go unpunis–"

"Especially when it's the school's faulty equipment that took them so far away from all of their loved ones and belongings, right?"]

Needless to say, Yuu ended up being "fired" in the end, quite an unfortunate result because they will need to freeload off of you until the end of your stay in this world. (Poor them, they got fired before they knew that they had a job in the first place.)

Oh well, it's better than being kicked out from practically their only way back home right now...

Hays... That cruel crow..

Anygays, it's time to snoop around and hopefully make some connections to the residents of this school.

This is a well-known college, right? So there should be influential people here somewhere...

Hehe.. It's time you bring out your gaslight, gatekeep, gold-digging skills so that you can girlboss your way into stability inside this foreign world.

• • • • • •

Suddenly, more than a dozen individuals felt a strong shiver run up their spines.

Haha... Well that's ominous!

• • • • • •

Ortho deadpanned at his brother.

It seems that almost burning down their dorm room last night isn't enough to deter him from making his [Mr. L/n x reader] fanfiction complete with mandatory fan art for every single chapter.

Haaa....

But at least his brother isn't 'fanboying' about another fictional character again...

Hm... Now that he thinks about it..

Maybe his brother will be more inclined to make friends if it's Mr. L/n!

And thus begins Ortho's journey of being an unknowing wingman as he tries to get his introverted brother to make friends.

• • • • • •

You narrowed your eyes as you looked at the small gift on top of your temporary bed in the infirmary.

Dats suspicious....

Dats weird......

You turn your necklace into a staff and start poking the box, trying to see if it'll suddenly turn into a horrific eldritch monster and jump you. (Won't be the first time that happened.)

• • • • •

"It is done, ××× ×× ××××××" (This is too easy to guess😑)

• • • • •

Diavolo sighed for the tenth time that hour, lamenting how trying to focus on his paperwork is a really hard task when MC gets thrown into the situation.

'Maybe a small break will help clear my head?'

He might as well just go out for a walk in the garden to get some fresh... air...

Oh? what is this?

His eyes scanned the dark envelope he'd seen wedged under the 'To burn' stack of paperwork in his desk.

This envelope wasn't here yesterday...

After confirming that the piece of paper wasn't cursed or charmed, he opened it with apprehension.

...!

This..!

• • • • •

Barbatos appeared in the office, tense as he'd heard his lord call out his name with haste.

Reading the letter shoved in front of his face by the serious Diavolo, Barbatos made a mental note to get the dungeon chambers ready.

They've got themselves a lead.

← Pr.6 | Chapter List | Chp. 1.1 →

Just tell me if y'all wanna get added in the permanent taglist, even if I already tagged y'all here.

That's just so I'll know if you wanna get tagged in all the upcoming chapters of this fanfic.

@caprinaesprout

@iameliseposts

@leviathans-tail-scales

@twst-om-lover

@a-traveling-void-human

Reblog or I'll take your ankles😈 (Pls like and reblog, it really gives me motivation🥺)

Also, the next chap is the start of Arc 1: Satan but short.

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yourlazykitkat · 27 days

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I propose to the azris council tonight that up until the official announcement of Cassian and Nesta's mating ceremony- Eris and the IC decided to continue the charade of Eris' courtship of Nesta as a cover for the exchange of intelligence between the Autumn and Night courts. Intercepted by any other party, it seems that Eris sends heartfelt confessions of love, declarations and promises from a place of kindness he thought he had lost. But to the discerning eye- there is code in the poetry Eris writes to impart the time and place of his father's secret meetings, promises to take a lover to beautiful Spring Court fields where Beron happens to be testing borders and innuendo of an empty, lonely bed as to hide conspiracies vesting for autumn's seat of power.

And who receives these letters, stamped and sent to the House of the Wind? Surely not Nesta who wants nothing to do with Eris- she has allowed him to use her name but draws the line at anymore. Absolutely not Cassian who detests the situation in the first place. Well, there's one other resident of the House. One in need of reading material to distract himself, one trained in infiltration, intelligence-gathering and code.

Why not Azriel? At first he's frustrated- because it's fucking Eris. Azriel would very much prefer to never have to be in contact with Eris. He rolls his eyes at the superfluous poetry "You remind me of the star of the blue sky, the world will end when you leave." and scoffs at the unnecessary adjectives "My most adored lady". He takes on the habit of a weekly, a monthly letter- scratching out the fluff and jotting down the intelligence and then, before he writes his response to every correspondence, he thinks about how he should burn the letters in the fireplace and then is too reminded of Eris that he just begins a pile of buried letters in his drawer. One day, Azriel catches a line which he swears references a queer fey poet and the shadow-singer spends all day in the library to be sure. What could he mean? What could Eris have possibly meant by that?

And why does Azriel care? Why does he get excited for a new letter? Why is there a pang of his heart when he reads Nesta's name but can practically hear Eris say Azriel's name in the words? Why does Azriel start pouring over poetry books? Why does he keep forgetting that each word is meant to be code, a disguise for intelligence? When did the cruel Eris, ugly to the heart, learn how to write so elegantly? Why does Azriel see a lovely line of poetry and think of Eris? Why does Azriel, in his spare time, keep going over old letters just in case he's missed something?

Why does, when Azriel's eyes meet Eris' across the ballroom of Nesta and Cassian's mating ceremony, does he feel like he's lost something? There's no longer a need to keep the charade but when Eris walks away with a drunk smirk (it's an ugly thing. it's a pretty thing)- Azriel needs to something, he needs to say something but where are the words-

#azris #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #eris vanserra #eris acotar #i’m just a delulu girl living in an azris world #acotar #sharks i'm here with a proposal #azris council i only seek to please #also sorry the language is so classical here #it is yet again 1am and i just finished rewatchcing bridgerton

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caesarflickermans · 4 months

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A TENTH ANNIVERSARY INTERVIEW WITH SUZANNE COLLINS

On the occasion of the tenth anniversary of the publication of The Hunger Games, author Suzanne Collins and publisher David Levithan discussed the evolution of the story, the editorial process, and the first ten years of the life of the trilogy, encompassing both books and films. The following is their written conversation.

NOTE: The following interview contains a discussion of all three books in The Hunger Games Trilogy, so if you have yet to read Catching Fire and Mockingjay, you may want to read them before reading the full interview.

transcript below

DAVID LEVITHAN: Let’s start at the origin moment for The Hunger Games. You were flipping channels one night . . .

SUZANNE COLLINS: Yes, I was flipping through the channels one night between reality television programs and actual footage of the Iraq War, when the idea came to me. At the time, I was completing the fifth book in The Underland Chronicles and my brain was shifting to whatever the next project would be. I had been grappling with another story that just couldn’t get any air under its wings. I knew I wanted to continue to explore writing about just war theory for young audiences. In The Underland Chronicles, I’d examined the idea of an unjust war developing into a just war because of greed, xenophobia, and long-standing hatreds. For the next series, I wanted a completely new world and a different angle into the just war debate.

DL: Can you tell me what you mean by the “just war theory” and how that applies to the setup of the trilogy?

SC: Just war theory has evolved over thousands of years in an attempt to define what circumstances give you the moral right to wage war and what is acceptable behavior within that war and its aftermath. The why and the how. It helps differentiate between what’s considered a necessary and an unnecessary war. In The Hunger Games Trilogy, the districts rebel against their own government because of its corruption. The citizens of the districts have no basic human rights, are treated as slave labor, and are subjected to the Hunger Games annually. I believe the majority of today’s audience would define that as grounds for revolution. They have just cause but the nature of the conflict raises a lot of questions. Do the districts have the authority to wage war? What is their chance of success? How does the reemergence of District 13 alter the situation? When we enter the story, Panem is a powder keg and Katniss the spark.

DL: As with most novelists I know, once you have that origin moment — usually a connection of two elements (in this case, war and entertainment) — the number of connections quickly increases, as different elements of the story take their place. I know another connection you made early on was with mythology, particularly the myth of Theseus. How did that piece come to fit?

SC: I was such a huge Greek mythology geek as a kid, it’s impossible for it not to come into play in my storytelling. As a young prince of Athens, he participated in a lottery that required seven girls and seven boys to be taken to Crete and thrown into a labyrinth to be destroyed by the Minotaur. In one version of the myth, this excessively cruel punishment resulted from the Athenians opposing Crete in a war. Sometimes the labyrinth’s a maze; sometimes it’s an arena. In my teens I read Mary Renault’s The King Must Die, in which the tributes end up in the Bull Court. They’re trained to perform with a wild bull for an audience composed of the elite of Crete who bet on the entertainment. Theseus and his team dance and handspring over the bull in what’s called bull-leaping. You can see depictions of this in ancient sculpture and vase paintings. The show ended when they’d either exhausted the bull or one of the team had been killed. After I read that book, I could never go back to thinking of the labyrinth as simply a maze, except perhaps ethically. It will always be an arena to me.

DL: But in this case, you dispensed with the Minotaur, no? Instead, the arena harkens more to gladiator vs. gladiator than to gladiator vs. bull. What influenced this construction?

SC: A fascination with the gladiator movies of my childhood, particularly Spartacus. Whenever it ran, I’d be glued to the set. My dad would get outPlutarch’s Lives and read me passages from “Life of Crassus,” since Spartacus, being a slave, didn’t rate his own book. It’s about a person who’s forced to become a gladiator, breaks out of the gladiator school/arena to lead a rebellion, and becomes the face of a war. That’s the dramatic arc of both the real-life Third Servile War and the fictional Hunger Games Trilogy.

DL: Can you talk about how war stories influenced you as a young reader, and then later as a writer? How did this knowledge of war stories affect your approach to writing The Hunger Games?

SC: Now you can find many wonderful books written for young audiences that deal with war. That wasn’t the case when I was growing up. It was one of the reasons Greek mythology appealed to me: the characters battled, there was the Trojan War. My family had been heavily impacted by war the year my father, who was career Air Force, went to Vietnam, but except for my myths, I rarely encountered it in books. I liked Johnny Tremain but it ends as the Revolutionary War kicks off. The one really memorable book I had about war was Boris by Jaap ter Haar, which deals with the Siege of Leningrad in World War II.

My war stories came from my dad, a historian and a doctor of political science. The four years before he left for Vietnam, the Army borrowed him from the Air Force to teach at West Point. His final assignment would be at Air Command and Staff College. As his kids, we were never too young to learn, whether he was teaching us history or taking us on vacation to a battlefield or posing a philosophical dilemma. He approached history as a story, and fortunately he was a very engaging storyteller. As a result, in my own writing, war felt like a completely natural topic for children.

DL: Another key piece of The Hunger Games is the voice and perspective that Katniss brings to it. I know some novelists start with a character and then find a story through that character, but with The Hunger Games (and correct me if I’m wrong) I believe you had the idea for the story first, and then Katniss stepped into it. Where did she come from? I’d love for you to talk about the origin of her name, and also the origin of her very distinctive voice.

SC: Katniss appeared almost immediately after I had the idea, standing by the bed with that bow and arrow. I’d spent a lot of time during The Underland Chronicles weighing the attributes of different weapons. I used archers very sparingly because they required light and the Underland has little natural illumination. But a bow and arrow can be handmade, shot from a distance, and weaponized when the story transitions into warfare. She was a born archer.

Her name came later, while I was researching survival training and specifically edible plants. In one of my books, I found the arrowhead plant, and the more I read about it, the more it seemed to reflect her. Its Latin name has the same roots as Sagittarius, the archer. The edible tuber roots she could gather, the arrowhead-shaped leaves were her defense, and the little white blossoms kept it in the tradition of flower names, like Rue and Primrose. I looked at the list of alternative names for it. Swamp Potato. Duck Potato. Katniss easily won the day.

As to her voice, I hadn’t intended to write in first person. I thought the book would be in the third person like The Underland Chronicles. Then I sat down to work and the first page poured out in first person, like she was saying, “Step aside, this is my story to tell.” So I let her.

DL: I am now trying to summon an alternate universe where the Mockingjay is named Swamp Potato Everdeen. Seems like a PR challenge. But let’s stay for a second on the voice — because it’s not a straightforward, generic American voice. There’s a regionalism to it, isn’t there? Was that present from the start?

SC: It was. There’s a slight District 12 regionalism to it, and some of the other tributes use phrases unique to their regions as well. The way they speak, particularly the way in which they refuse to speak like citizens of the Capitol, is important to them. No one in District 12 wants to sound like Effie Trinket unless they’re mocking her. So they hold on to their regionalisms as a quiet form of rebellion. The closest thing they have to freedom of speech is their manner of speaking.

DL: I’m curious about Katniss’s family structure. Was it always as we see it, or did you ever consider giving her parents greater roles? How much do you think the Everdeen family’s story sets the stage for Katniss’s story within the trilogy?

SC: Her parents have their own histories in District 12 but I only included what’s pertinent to Katniss’s tale. Her father’s hunting skills, musicality, and death in the mines. Her mother’s healing talent and vulnerabilities. Her deep love for Prim. Those are the elements that seemed essential to me.

DL: This completely fascinates me because I, as an author, rarely know more (consciously) about the characters than what’s in the story. But this sounds like you know much more about the Everdeen parents than found their way to the page. What are some of the more interesting things about them that a reader wouldn’t necessarily know?

SC: Your way sounds a lot more efficient. I have a world of information about the characters that didn’t make it into the book. With some stories, revealing that could be illuminating, but in the case of The Hunger Games, I think it would only be a distraction unless it was part of a new tale within the world of Panem.

DL: I have to ask — did you know from the start how Prim’s story was going to end? (I can’t imagine writing the reaping scene while knowing — but at the same time I can’t imagine writing it without knowing.)

SC: You almost have to know it and not know it at the same time to write it convincingly, because the dramatic question, Can Katniss save Prim?, is introduced in the first chapter of the first book, and not answered until almost the end of the trilogy. At first there’s the relief that, yes, she can volunteer for Prim. Then Rue, who reminds her of Prim, joins her in the arena and she can’t save her. That tragedy refreshes the question. For most of the second book, Prim’s largely out of harm’s way, although there’s always the threat that the Capitol might hurt her to hurt Katniss. The jabberjays are a reminder of that. Once she’s in District 13 and the war has shifted to the Capitol, Katniss begins to hope Prim’s not only safe but has a bright future as a doctor. But it’s an illusion. The danger that made Prim vulnerable in the beginning, the threat of the arena, still exists. In the first book, it’s a venue for the Games; in the second, the platform for the revolution; in the third, it’s the battleground of Panem, coming to a head in the Capitol. The arena transforms but it’s never eradicated; in fact it’s expanded to include everyone in the country. Can Katniss save Prim? No. Because no one is safe while the arena exists.

DL: If Katniss was the first character to make herself known within story, when did Peeta and Gale come into the equation? Did you know from the beginning how their stories would play out vis-à-vis Katniss’s?

SC: Peeta and Gale appeared quickly, less as two points on a love triangle, more as two perspectives in the just war debate. Gale, because of his experiences and temperament, tends toward violent remedies. Peeta’s natural inclination is toward diplomacy. Katniss isn’t just deciding on a partner; she’s figuring out her worldview.

DL: And did you always know which worldview would win? It’s interesting to see it presented in such a clear-cut way, because when I think of Katniss, I certainly think of force over diplomacy.

SC: And yet Katniss isn’t someone eager to engage in violence and she takes no pleasure in it. Her circumstances repeatedly push her into making choices that include the use of force. But if you look carefully at what happens in the arena, her compassionate choices determine her survival. Taking on Rue as an ally results in Thresh sparing her life. Seeking out Peeta and caring for him when she discovers how badly wounded he is ultimately leads to her winning the Games. She uses force only in self-defense or defense of a third party, and I’m including Cato’s mercy killing in that. As the trilogy progresses, it becomes increasingly difficult to avoid the use of force because the overall violence is escalating with the war. The how and the why become harder to answer.

Yes, I knew which worldview would win, but in the interest of examining just war theory you need to make the arguments as strongly as possible on both sides. While Katniss ultimately chooses Peeta, remember that in order to end the Hunger Games her last act is to assassinate an unarmed woman. Conversely, in The Underland Chronicles, Gregor’s last act is to break his sword to interrupt the cycle of violence. The point of both stories is to take the reader through the journey, have them confront the issues with the protagonist, and then hopefully inspire them to think about it and discuss it. What would they do in Katniss’s or Gregor’s situation? How would they define a just or unjust war and what behavior is acceptable within warfare? What are the human costs of life, limb, and sanity? How does developing technology impact the debate? The hope is that better discussions might lead to more nonviolent forms of conflict resolution, so we evolve out of choosing war as an option.

DL: Where does Haymitch fit into this examination of war? What worldview does he bring?

SC: Haymitch was badly damaged in his own war, the second Quarter Quell, in which he witnessed and participated in terrible things in order to survive and then saw his loved ones killed for his strategy. He self-medicates with white liquor to combat severe PTSD. His chances of recovery are compromised because he’s forced to mentor the tributes every year. He’s a version of what Katniss might become, if the Hunger Games continues. Peeta comments on how similar they are, and it’s true. They both really struggle with their worldview. He manages to defuse the escalating violence at Gale’s whipping with words, but he participates in a plot to bring down the government that will entail a civil war.

The ray of light that penetrates that very dark cloud in his brain is the moment that Katniss volunteers for Prim. He sees, as do many people in Panem, the power of her sacrifice. And when that carries into her Games, with Rue and Peeta, he slowly begins to believe that with Katniss it might be possible to end the Hunger Games.

DL: I’m also curious about how you balanced the personal and political in drawing the relationship between Katniss and Gale. They have such a history together — and I think you powerfully show the conflict that arises when you love someone, but don’t love what they believe in. (I think that resonates particularly now, when so many families and relationships and friendships have been disrupted by politics.)

SC: Yes, I think it’s painful, especially because they feel so in tune in so many ways. Katniss’s and Gale’s differences of opinion are based in just war theory. Do we revolt? How do we conduct ourselves in the war? And the ethical and personal lines climax at the same moment — the double tap bombing that takes Prim’s life. But it’s rarely simple; there are a lot of gray areas. It’s complicated by Peeta often holding a conflicting view while being the rival for her heart, so the emotional pull and the ethical pull become so intertwined it’s impossible to separate them. What do you do when someone you love, someone you know to be a good person, has a view which completely opposes your own? You keep trying to understand what led to the difference and see if it can be bridged. Maybe, maybe not. I think many conflicts grow out of fear, and in an attempt to counter that fear, people reach for solutions that may be comforting in the short term, but only increase their vulnerability in the long run and cause a lot of destruction along the way.

DL: In drawing Gale’s and Peeta’s roles in the story, how conscious were you of the gender inversion from traditional narrative tropes? As you note above, both are important far beyond any romantic subplot, but I do think there’s something fascinating about the way they both reinscribe roles that would traditionally be that of the “girlfriend.” Gale in particular gets to be “the girl back home” from so many Westerns and adventure movies — but of course is so much more than that. And Peeta, while a very strong character in his own right, often has to take a backseat to Katniss and her strategy, both in and out of the arena. Did you think about them in terms of gender and tropes, or did that just come naturally as the characters did what they were going to do on the page?

SC: It came naturally because, while Gale and Peeta are very important characters, it’s Katniss’s story.

DL: For Peeta . . . why baking?

SC: Bread crops up a lot in The Hunger Games. It’s the main food source in the districts, as it was for many people historically. When Peeta throws a starving Katniss bread in the flashback, he’s keeping her alive long enough to work out a strategy for survival. It seemed in keeping with his character to be a baker, a life giver.

But there’s a dark side to bread, too. When Plutarch Heavensbee references it, he’s talking about Panem et Circenses, Bread and Circuses, where food and entertainment lull people into relinquishing their political power. Bread can contribute to life or death in the Hunger Games.

DL: Speaking of Plutarch — in a meta way, the two of you share a job (although when you do it, only fictional people die). When you were designing the arena for the first book, what influences came into play? Did you design the arena and then have the participants react to it, or did you design the arena with specific reactions and plot points in mind?

SC: Katniss has a lot going against her in the first arena — she’s inexperienced, smaller than a lot of her competitors, and hasn’t the training of the Careers — so the arena needed to be in her favor. The landscape closely resembles the woods around District 12, with similar flora and fauna. She can feed herself and recognize the nightlock as poisonous. Thematically, the Girl on Fire needed to encounter fire at some point, so I built that in. I didn’t want it too physically flashy, because the audience needs to focus on the human dynamic, the plight of the star-crossed lovers, the alliance with Rue, the twist that two tributes can survive from the same district. Also, the Gamemakers would want to leave room for a noticeable elevation in spectacle when the Games move to the Quarter Quell arena in Catching Fire with the more intricate clock design.

DL: So where does Plutarch fall into the just war spectrum? There are many layers to his involvement in what’s going on.

SC: Plutarch is the namesake of the biographer Plutarch, and he’s one of the few characters who has a sense of the arc of history. He’s never lived in a world without the Hunger Games; it was well established by the time he was born and then he rose through the ranks to become Head Gamemaker. At some point, he’s gone from accepting that the Games are necessary to deciding they’re unnecessary, and he sets about ending them. Plutarch has a personal agenda as well. He’s seen so many of his peers killed off, like Seneca Crane, that he wonders how long it will be before the mad king decides he’s a threat not an asset. It’s no way to live. And as a gamemaker among gamemakers, he likes the challenge of the revolution. But even after they succeed he questions how long the resulting peace will last. He has a fairly low opinion of human beings, but ultimately doesn’t rule out that they might be able to change.

DL: When it comes to larger world building, how much did you know about Panem before you started writing? If I had asked you, while you were writing the opening pages, “Suzanne, what’s the primary industry of District Five?” would you have known the answer, or did those details emerge to you when they emerged within the writing of the story?

SC: Before I started writing I knew there were thirteen districts — that’s a nod to the thirteen colonies — and that they’d each be known for a specific industry. I knew 12 would be coal and most of the others were set, but I had a few blanks that naturally filled in as the story evolved. When I was little we had that board game, Game of the States, where each state was identified by its exports. And even today we associate different locations in the country with a product, with seafood or wine or tech. Of course, it’s a very simplified take on Panem. No district exists entirely by its designated trade. But for purposes of the Hunger Games, it’s another way to divide and define the districts.

DL: How do you think being from District 12 defines Katniss, Peeta, and Gale? Could they have been from any other district, or is their residency in 12 formative for the parts of their personalities that drive the story?

SC: Very formative. District 12 is the joke district, small and poor, rarely producing a victor in the Hunger Games. As a result, the Capitol largely ignores it. The enforcement of the laws is lax, the relationship with the Peacekeepers less hostile. This allows the kids to grow up far less constrained than in other districts. Katniss and Gale become talented archers by slipping off in the woods to hunt. That possibility of training with a weapon is unthinkable in, say, District 11, with its oppressive military presence. Finnick’s trident and Johanna’s ax skills develop as part of their districts’ industries, but they would never be allowed access to those weapons outside of work. Also, Katniss, Peeta, and Gale view the Capitol in a different manner by virtue of knowing their Peacekeepers better. Darius, in the Hob, is considered a friend, and he proves himself to be so more than once. This makes the Capitol more approachable on a level, more possible to befriend, and more possible to defeat. More human.

DL: Let’s talk about the Capitol for a moment — particularly its most powerful resident. I know that every name you give a character is deliberate, so why President Snow?

SC: Snow because of its coldness and purity. That’s purity of thought, although most people would consider it pure evil. His methods are monstrous, but in his mind, he’s all that’s holding Panem together. His first name, Coriolanus, is a nod to the titular character in Shakespeare’s play who was based on material from Plutarch’s Lives. He was known for his anti-populist sentiments, and Snow is definitely not a man of the people.

DL: The bond between Katniss and Snow is one of the most interesting in the entire series. Because even when they are in opposition, there seems to be an understanding between them that few if any of the other characters in the trilogy share. What role do you feel Snow plays for Katniss — and how does this fit into your examination of war?

SC: On the surface, she’s the face of the rebels, he’s the face of the Capitol. Underneath, things are a lot more complicated. Snow’s quite old under all that plastic surgery. Without saying too much, he’s been waiting for Katniss for a long time. She’s the worthy opponent who will test the strength of his citadel, of his life’s work. He’s the embodiment of evil to her, with the power of life and death. They’re obsessed with each other to the point of being blinded to the larger picture. “I was watching you, Mockingjay. And you were watching me. I’m afraid we have both been played for fools.” By Coin, that is. And then their unholy alliance at the end brings her down.

DL: One of the things that both Snow and Katniss realize is the power of media and imagery on the population. Snow may appear heartless to some, but he is very attuned to the “hearts and minds” of his citizens . . . and he is also attuned to the danger of losing them to Katniss. What role do you see propaganda playing in the war they’re waging?

SC: Propaganda decides the outcome of the war. This is why Plutarch implements the airtime assault; he understands that whoever controls the airwaves controls the power. Like Snow, he’s been waiting for Katniss, because he needs a Spartacus to lead his campaign. There have been possible candidates, like Finnick, but no one else has captured the imagination of the country like she has.

DL: In terms of the revolution, appearance matters — and two of the characters who seem to understand this the most are Cinna and Caesar Flickerman, one in a principled way, one . . . not as principled. How did you draw these two characters into your themes?

SC: That’s exactly right. Cinna uses his artistic gifts to woo the crowd with spectacle and beauty. Even after his death, his Mockingjay costume designs are used in the revolution. Caesar, whose job is to maintain the myth of the glorious games, transitions into warfare with the prisoner of war interviews with Peeta. They are both helping to keep up appearances.

DL: As a writer, you studiously avoided the trope of harkening back to the “old” geography — i.e., there isn’t a character who says, “This was once a land known as . . . Delaware.” (And thank goodness for that.) Why did you decide to avoid pinning down Panem to our contemporary geography?

SC: The geography has changed because of natural and man-made disasters, so it’s not as simple as overlaying a current map on Panem. But more importantly, it’s not relevant to the story. Telling the reader the continent gives them the layout in general, but borders are very changeful. Look at how the map of North America has evolved in the past 300 years. It makes little difference to Katniss what we called Panem in the past.

DL: Let’s talk about the D word. When you sat down to write The Hunger Games, did you think of it as a dystopian novel?

SC: I thought of it as a war story. I love dystopia, but it will always be secondary to that. Setting the trilogy in a futuristic North America makes it familiar enough to relate to but just different enough to gain some perspective. When people ask me how far in the future it’s set, I say, “It depends on how optimistic you are.”

DL: What do you think it was about the world into which the book was published that made it viewed so prominently as a dystopia?

SC: In the same way most people would define The Underland Chronicles as a fantasy series, they would define The Hunger Games as a dystopian trilogy, and they’d be right. The elements of the genres are there in both cases. But they’re first and foremost war stories to me. The thing is, whether you came for the war, dystopia, action adventure, propaganda, coming of age, or romance, I’m happy you’re reading it. Everyone brings their own experiences to the book that will color how they interpret it. I imagine the number of people who immediately identify it as a just war theory story are in the minority, but most stories are more than one thing.

DL: What was the relationship between current events and the world you were drawing? I know that with many speculative writers, they see something in the news and find it filtering into their fictional world. Were you reacting to the world around you, or was your reaction more grounded in a more timeless and/or historical consideration of war?

SC: I would say the latter. Some authors — okay, you for instance — can digest events quickly and channel them into their writing, as you did so effectively with September 11 in Love Is the Higher Law. But I don’t process and integrate things rapidly, so history works better for me.

DL: There’s nothing I like more than talking to writers about writing — so I’d love to ask about your process (even though I’ve always found the word process to be far too orderly to describe how a writer’s mind works).

As I recall, when we at Scholastic first saw the proposal for The Hunger Games Trilogy, the summary of the first book was substantial, the summary for the second book was significantly shorter, and the summary of the third book was . . . remarkably brief. So, first question: Did you stick to that early outline?

SC: I had to go back and take a look. Yes, I stuck to it very closely, but as you point out, the third book summary is remarkably brief. I basically tell you there’s a war that the Capitol eventually loses. Just coming off The Underland Chronicles, which also ends with a war, I think I’d seen how much develops along the way and wanted that freedom for this series as well.

DL: Would you outline books two and three as you were writing book one? Or would you just take notes for later? Was this the same or different from what you did with The Underland Chronicles?

SC: Structure’s one of my favorite parts of writing. I always work a story out with Post-its, sometimes using different colors for different character arcs. I create a chapter grid, as well, and keep files for later books, so that whenever I have an idea that might be useful, I can make a note of it. I wrote scripts for many years before I tried books, so a lot of my writing habits developed through that experience.

DL: Would you deliberately plant things in book one to bloom in books two or three? Are there any seeds you planted in the first book that you ended up not growing?

SC: Oh, yes, I definitely planted things. For instance, Johanna Mason is mentioned in the third chapter of the first book although she won’t appear until Catching Fire. Plutarch is that unnamed gamemaker who falls into the punch bowl when she shoots the arrow. Peeta whispers “Always” in Catching Fire when Katniss is under the influence of sleep syrup but she doesn’t hear the word until after she’s been shot in Mockingjay. Sometimes you just don’t have time to let all the seeds grow, or you cut them out because they don’t really add to the story. Like those wild dogs that roam around District 12. One could potentially have been tamed, but Buttercup stole their thunder.

DL: Since much of your early experience as a writer was as a playwright, I’m curious: What did you learn as a playwright that helped you as a novelist?

SC: I studied theater for many years — first acting, then playwriting — and I have a particular love for classical theater. I formed my ideas about structure as a playwright, how crucial it is and how, when it’s done well, it’s really inseparable from character. It’s like a living thing to me. I also wrote for children’s television for seventeen years. I learned a lot writing for preschool. If a three-year-old doesn’t like something, they just get up and walk away from the set. I saw my own kids do that. How do you hold their attention? It’s hard and the internet has made it harder. So for the eight novels, I developed a three-act structure, with each act being composed of nine chapters, using elements from both play and screenplay structures — double layering it, so to speak.

DL: Where do you write? Are you a longhand writer or a laptop writer? Do you listen to music as you write, or go for the monastic, writerly silence?

SC: I write best at home in a recliner. I used to write longhand, but now it’s all laptop. Definitely not music; it demands to be listened to. I like quiet, but not silence.

DL: You talked earlier about researching survival training and edible plants for these books. What other research did you have to do? Are you a reading researcher, a hands-on researcher, or a mix of both? (I’m imagining an elaborate archery complex in your backyard, but I am guessing that’s not necessarily accurate.)

SC: You know, I’m just not very handy. I read a lot about how to build a bow from scratch, but I doubt I could ever make one. Being good with your hands is a gift. So I do a lot of book research. Sometimes I visit museums or historic sites for inspiration. I was trained in stage combat, particularly sword fighting in drama school; I have a nice collection of swords designed for that, but that was more helpful for The Underland Chronicles. The only time I got to do archery was in gym class in high school.

DL: While I wish I could say the editorial team (Kate Egan, Jennifer Rees, and myself ) were the first-ever readers of The Hunger Games, I know this isn’t true. When you’re writing a book, who reads it first?

SC: My husband, Cap, and my literary agent, Rosemary Stimola, have consistently been the books’ first readers. They both have excellent critique skills and give insightful notes. I like to keep the editorial team as much in the dark as possible, so that when they read the first draft it’s with completely fresh eyes.

DL: Looking back now at the editorial conversations we had about The Hunger Games — which were primarily with Kate, as Jen and I rode shotgun — can you recall any significant shifts or discussions?

SC: What I mostly recall is how relieved I was to know that I had such amazing people to work with on the book before it entered the world. I had eight novels come out in eight years with Scholastic, so that was fast for me and I needed feedback I could trust. You’re all so smart, intuitive, and communicative, and with the three of you, no stone went unturned. With The Hunger Games Trilogy, I really depended on your brains and hearts to catch what worked and what didn’t.

DL: And then there was the question of the title . . .

SC: Okay, this I remember clearly. The original title of the first book was The Tribute of District Twelve. You wanted to change it to The Hunger Games, which was my name for the series. I said, “Okay, but I’m not thinking of another name for the series!” To this day, more people ask me about “the Gregor series” than “The Underland Chronicles,” and I didn’t want a repeat of that because it’s confusing. But you were right, The Hunger Games was a much better name for the book. Catching Fire was originally called The Ripple Effect and I wanted to change that one, because it was too watery for a Girl on Fire, so we came up with Catching Fire. The third book I’d come up with a title so bad I can’t even remember it except it had the word ashes in it. We both hated it. One day, you said, “What if we just call it Mockingjay?” And that seemed perfect. The three parts of the book had been subtitled “The Mockingjay,” “The Assault,” and “The Assassin.” We changed the title to Mockingjay and the first part to “The Ashes” and got that lovely alliteration in the subtitles. Thank goodness you were there; you have far better taste in titles. I believe in the acknowledgments, I call you the Title Master.

DL: With The Hunger Games, the choice of Games is natural — but the choice of Hunger is much more odd and interesting. So I’ll ask: Why Hunger Games?

SC: Because food is a lethal weapon. Withholding food, that is. Just like it is in Boris when the Nazis starve out the people of Leningrad. It’s a weapon that targets everyone in a war, not just the soldiers in combat, but the civilians too. In the prologue of Henry V, the Chorus talks about Harry as Mars, the god of war. “And at his heels, Leash’d in like hounds, should famine, sword, and fire crouch for employment.” Famine, sword, and fire are his dogs of war, and famine leads the pack. With a rising global population and environmental issues, I think food could be a significant weapon in the future.

DL: The cover was another huge effort. We easily had over a hundred different covers comped up before we landed on the iconic one. There were some covers that pictured Katniss — something I can’t imagine doing now. And there were others that tried to picture scenes. Of course, the answer was in front of us the entire time — the Mockingjay symbol, which the art director Elizabeth Parisi deployed to such amazing effect. What do you think of the impact the cover and the symbol have had? What were your thoughts when you saw this cover?

SC: Oh, it’s a brilliant cover, which I should point out I had nothing to do with. I only saw a handful of the many you developed. The one that made it to print is absolutely fantastic; I loved it at first sight. It’s classy, powerful, and utterly unique to the story. It doesn’t limit the age of the audience and I think that really contributed to adults feeling comfortable reading it. And then, of course, you followed it up with the wonderful evolution of the mockingjay throughout the series. There’s something universal about the imagery, the captive bird gaining freedom, which I think is why so many of the foreign publishers chose to use it instead of designing their own. And it translated beautifully to the screen where it still holds as the central symbolic image for the franchise.

DL: Obviously, the four movies had an enormous impact on how widely the story spread across the globe. The whole movie process started with the producers coming on board. What made you know they were the right people to shepherd this story into another form?

SC: When I decided to sell the entertainment rights to the book, I had phone interviews with over a dozen producers. Nina Jacobson’s understanding of and passion for the piece along with her commitment to protecting it won me over. She’s so articulate, I knew she’d be an excellent person to usher it into the world. The team at Lionsgate’s enthusiasm and insight made a deep impression as well. I needed partners with the courage not to shy away from the difficult elements of the piece, ones who wouldn’t try to steer the story to an easier, more traditional ending. Prim can’t live. The victory can’t be joyous. The wounds have to leave lasting scars. It’s not an easy ending but it’s an intentional one.

DL: You cowrote the screenplay for the first Hunger Games movie. I know it’s an enormously tricky thing for an author to adapt their own work. How did you approach it? What was the hardest thing about translating a novel into a screenplay? What was the most rewarding?

SC: I wrote the initial treatments and first draft and then Billy Ray came on for several drafts and then our director, Gary Ross, developed it into his shooting script and we ultimately did a couple of passes together. I did the boil down of the book, which is a lot of cutting things while trying to retain the dramatic structure. I think the hardest thing for me, because I’m not a terribly visual person, was finding the way to translate many words into few images. Billy and Gary, both far more experienced screenwriters and gifted directors as well, really excelled at that. Throughout the franchise I had terrific screenwriters, and Francis Lawrence, who directed the last three films, is an incredible visual storyteller.

The most rewarding moment on the Hunger Games movie would have been the first time I saw it put together, still in rough form, and thinking it worked.

DL: One of the strange things for me about having a novel adapted is knowing that the actors involved will become, in many people’s minds, the faces and bodies of the characters who have heretofore lived as bodiless voices in my head. Which I suppose leads to a three-part question: Do you picture your characters as you’re writing them? If so, how close did Jennifer Lawrence come to the Katniss in your head? And now when you think about Katniss, do you see Jennifer or do you still see what you imagined before?

SC: I definitely do picture the characters when I’m writing them. The actress who looks exactly like my book Katniss doesn’t exist. Jennifer looked close enough and felt very right, which is more important. She gives an amazing performance. When I think of the books, I still think of my initial image of Katniss. When I think of the movies, I think of Jen. Those images aren’t at war any more than the books are with the films. Because they’re faithful adaptations, the story becomes the primary thing. Some people will never read a book, but they might see the same story in a movie. When it works well, the two entities support and enrich each other.

DL: All of the actors did such a fantastic job with your characters (truly). Are there any in particular that have stayed with you?

SC: A writer friend of mine once said, “Your cast — they’re like a basket of diamonds.” That’s how I think of them. I feel fortunate to have had such a talented team — directors, producers, screenwriters, performers, designers, editors, marketing, publicity, everybody — to make the journey with. And I’m so grateful for the readers and viewers who invested in The Hunger Games. Stories are made to be shared.

DL: We’re talking on the occasion of the tenth anniversary of The Hunger Games. Looking back at the past ten years, what have some of the highlights been?

SC: The response from the readers, especially the young audience for which it was written. Seeing beautiful and faithful adaptations reach the screen. Occasionally hearing it make its way into public discourse on politics or social issues.

DL: The Hunger Games Trilogy has been an international bestseller. Why do you think this series struck such an important chord throughout the world?

SC: Possibly because the themes are universal. War is a magnet for difficult issues. In The Hunger Games, you have vast inequality of wealth, destruction of the planet, political struggles, war as a media event, human rights abuses, propaganda, and a whole lot of other elements that affect human beings wherever they live. I think the story might tap into the anxiety a lot of people feel about the future right now.

DL: As we celebrate the past ten years and look forward to many decades to come for this trilogy, I’d love for us to end where we should — with the millions of readers who’ve embraced these books. What words would you like to leave them with?

SC: Thank you for joining Katniss on her journey. And may the odds be ever in your favor.

#thg #the hunger games #suzanne collins #katniss everdeen #catching fire #mockingjay #tbosas #thg book club #saw they took the pdf version down smh

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katapotato55 · 1 year

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How to write a good metaphor

yall seemed to like my post on "how to write good horror" so i figured i should make another one of these.

1- do. not. explain. the. metaphor.

don't.

"oh but how will the audience know my deep and meaningful message- "

SOME PEOPLE WONT GET IT. if you explain what you mean then suddenly the metaphor won't be deep anymore. it becomes a generic forced message.

i know you are tempted to make a character infodump about everything, fucking don't.

followup on this:

2- a good metaphor should potentially have multiple interpretations.

"but i don't want people to get the wrong impression of the story!"

then you either need to make damn sure its an elegantly written metaphor, or none at all. the death of the author is the idea that everyone has their own vision of a story they read, rearguards of authors intent. you need to come to terms with this or else you won't improve your writing skills.

you need to trust that your audience is intelligent enough to understand the metaphor on their own without bashing them over the head with it. sometimes people misunderstand meaning, it is a fact of life.

The game little inferno was thought of as a metaphor about pollution, in which later the creators went out to say it was actually about capitalism and wasting your life with things like exploitative mobile games. you just need make it SUBTLE and hope for the best.

3- The story/gameplay/etc should inform the metaphor(and sometimes reference real life examples)

To mention little inferno again, the "you must wait x amount of time for in-game item to be given to you" is a mirror of mobile games in the real world that use timers to leach money from you.

another example: analogue horror.

broken old technology is scary on its own, but many good analogue horror artists tend to use this to the advantage.

analogue horror can be used as a metaphor for dying trends and technology, like how in the 30's through 70's we used asbestos in the walls. Analogue horror makes a great parralel to this idea (see Blue_channel by gooseworx for a good example.) . the audience questions WHY this is on an old CRT tv and not just a smartphone, perhaps to imply this was an event that happened years ago.

undertale is another example, where most RPG's encourage you to fight and to level up, undertale uses this as a simple metaphor about obsessive control and being cruel to get an arbitrary achievement (i recommend the escapist's video on "why i didn't review undertale" on youtube for way better examples)

tldr: a metaphor is stronger if you lightly reference real life occurances and implement your metaphor in the medium presented.

4- the curtains are blue because they are blue.

not everyone is going to understand your metaphor

and not everyone is going to notice every single little metaphor you add to your story.

remember those teachers that would constantly stretch to imply something in a story is a metaphor and that the curtains are blue because of some deep metaphor for death and sadness and shit?

those teachers are full of it. ignore them.

metaphors are allowed to be simple. not every metaphor needs to be a hyper deep depth defying world changing thing. I could even argue a bunch of small metaphors connected to each other can be better than one big metaphor depending on your story.

relax. don't think too much about it because your average audience member won't.

5- study movies, tv, books, games, etc and understand why their metaphors work.

don't fall into that "the curtains are blue because of a deep message" English teacher mindset mind you.

"but how do i tell what is and isn't a metaphor?" you may ask

simple. trust your gut. you won't understand everything you come across but the human brain has a way of telling what is and isn't a metaphor in stories.

(spoiler about bugsnax)

I could argue Bugsnax is a metaphor about drug abuse and addiction. The characters have personality traits commonly associated with people vulnerable to drug addiction. An athlete, a hippy, a married couple going through a rough spot in their marriage with the threat of divorce, a mentally ill person with trauma and paranoia, etc.

It isn't obvious, many people may disagree with me, but you can't deny that there are signs i may be right.

(end of spoiler) the point i am trying to make: don't stretch to find a metaphor when you don't see one. if you are curious google other people's theories and make your own opinion. metaphors are hard and you will learn over time. and finally 6- do not ever do "it was all just a dream" or "the character is secretly in a coma" etc this applies to writing in general but it is still related to metaphors. the only time i have seen this done well is driver san francisco, but what it did right was A- make it so the players can guess ahead of time the mystery, such as the radio saying voices of your character in the hospital, or if you zoomed out you could hear a heart monitor. and B- it didn't completely un-do the entire story. that is my core issue with this trope. it either wastes your time un-doing the entire story readers worked hard to finish, or it is just nonsensical and terrible. "dora the explorer is actually in purgatory!" "spongebob is a metaphor for the 7 deadly sins!" "ash is in a coma and that is why he never ages! " ooooor it is a cartoon and you are forcing meaning that doesn't exist in something that doesn't even imply it. the world being a bit weird is not enough to be a metaphor for anything. If you want to make a good metaphor: do more effort than just slapping a lazy "it was all a coma" thing at the end. Like horror, stuff like this needs to be built up properly. also consider authors intent. I understand death of the author and all of that, but do you really think a retired marine biologist made spongebob to be a complex metaphor about sinners in hell ? (rip Stephen Hillenburg btw. we didn't deserve him.) thank you for reading, hope this helps. and please, learn to understand the tropes of metaphors before you attempt to make the story of a generation. edit- adding a couple more things i forgot 7- "the darkness is going to destroy the land or whatever!" i see this used all the time. spooky wookey dark shadowy bits going to destroy a land and is the hero's generic bad thing to fight. stop it. it is not a deep and complex metaphor about depression or whatever the hell you are on about. its lazy and stupid. 8- a story should stand up on its own regardless if audience members understand the metaphor or not I don't like Gris. it is a very pretty game with lovely visuals But also the entire story is just the main character moping about artistically and shit and go on about how artistically sad and dramatic this all is. if i don't understand the story without understanding the metaphor, then your story and your metaphor sucks. an example of a metaphor done well: spiritfairer without the metaphor, it is a simple game about running a traveling boat. even if you didn't care too much about the deeper meaning it is a cute story and the gameplay is fun (spoiler) if you look deeper, it can also be taken as a metaphor about greif and learning to accept your loved ones will one day die. things like the boat being filled with empty houses you can't remove is a good example of this. (end of spoiler) your story needs to stand up on its own to be good. don't use a metaphor as a crutch.

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saintsenara · 1 month

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waitt i need to know why you hc ludo bagman as a genuine death eater sympathiser omg. that sounds fascinating

thank you very much for the ask, pal!

that bagman was really a death eater sympathiser is something i've been committed to believing since i first read goblet of fire, but it's something i've been pondering particularly recently as part of writing subluxation, which is a big look at the set-up and function of the wizarding state during voldemort's takeover in 1997-1998 from the perspective of percy weasley.

which means - of course - that it requires a bit of grappling with percy's main man - and bagman's frenemy - barty crouch sr.

the way the canon narrative - not only harry's perspective but also characters harry implicitly trusts, like sirius and dumbledore - wants us to react to crouch sr. is something that really interests me. because i think it's reasonable to say that - while the series doesn't regard him as a villain villain, per se [as it does for characters such as umbridge] - it doesn't see him as someone we are supposed to regard in a particularly positive light either, even after the reveal that barty crouch jr. was a death eater and his father was justified in sending him to azkaban [even if he didn't keep him there...]

crouch - like cornelius fudge, rufus scrimgeour, and percy himself - is a victim of the narrative's general consensus that ministry workers who are not under the impression that the ministry cannot function admirably or efficiently without input from dumbledore are people we should have no real respect for. he is shown, in his canon appearances, to be something of a jobsworth - officious and dull and uncreative in his thinking, which serves both as a personification of what the series thinks about the civil service and as a narrative device to make the reveal that he broke his son out of prison and kept him, essentially, drugged at home all the more shocking.

but crouch is also interesting in another sense - in that he is not a villain, but that he does not fit into the way the series categorises the behaviour of its heroes surrounding mercy.

we are told in goblet of fire that crouch - as head of the department of magical law enforcement in the 1970s - was responsible for the escalating harshness of the government's response to voldemort. policies such as the instructions for aurors to shoot to kill if they encountered suspected death eaters and the use of internment without trial of those accused of collusion with voldemort [both of which, as i am always banging on about, are references to the actual behaviour of the british state in northern ireland during the same time period] emanate directly from him.

and this ties into a theme which is prominent in the run of books between prisoner of azkaban and half-blood prince: that the world is not split into good people and death eaters. the purpose of these central books in the series is to show that - once harry's worldview widens from the hogwarts-exclusive focus it has in the first two, more childlike, books - the rot in the wizarding world goes far beyond voldemort. the wizarding state is shown - time and time again - to be cruel, corrupt, prejudiced, and stagnant, and the ministry's most loyal bureaucrats and their unwillingness towards mercy are largely blamed for this situation.

because of course - as i have complained about before - the morality of the harry potter series is individualist. good and evil are located by the text within the individual, which means that states and their institutions are automatically less interesting to it than singular heroes and villains in an epic baddies-versus-goodies showdown.

but it's also true that - as a protagonist - harry's morality is extremely self-serving. by which i mean that he has a tendency to reach black-and-white judgements on people he encounters - they're good if they're nice to him, they're bad if they're cruel to him - and to never deviate from them.

and - indeed - to never have to deviate from them. it's worth saying that harry's conversion rate on being right about people is really high - his immediate dislike of characters such as draco malfoy, lockhart, and umbridge is entirely justified; his immediate trust of characters such as sirius is the same. his only misjudgments relate to characters who are crucial to the narrative outside of harry's feelings towards them - he's wrong to trust the teenage tom riddle in chamber of secrets, he's wrong to trust the fake "moody" in goblet of fire, he's wrong to trust "bathilda bagshot" in deathly hallows, and he is, of course, wrong about both snape and dumbledore.

but - outside of this - his judgements are usually proven to be right [and, indeed, his good instincts are lampshaded by the narrative in deathly hallows, when lupin literally says this]. and so we are supposed to assume, i think, that character judgements he makes which we see no broader resolution to are correct.

for example - harry's conviction that stan shunpike is under the imperius curse is never taken by the text as anything other than true. there is no suggestion whatsoever that harry is wrong and that stan - a young, working-class man with delusions of grandeur, who would presumably be reasonably easy to radicalise - might be a genuine supporter of voldemort, and harry's complete certainty that stan is falsely imprisoned [with the callbacks this gives to his feelings about sirius' treatment] isn't used by the narrative as an example of him being naive and self-righteous, but as an example of the fundamental goodness, sensibleness and mercifulness of his character which justifies his ascent to an allegory for christ in the latter stages of deathly hallows.

and the same applies to ludo bagman. when harry witnesses his trial, he finds the suggestion that he might have been a death eater absurd, clearly finds the jury's immediate dismissal of it amusing, and is unsympathetic to crouch when he is infuriated by bagman's acquittal. he takes dumbledore's assurance that bagman has never been accused of any nefarious activity since without question [something he does not do for snape] and his view throughout goblet of fire - much as it is for stan - is that bagman is seedy and not particularly clever, but that he is also such a transparently ridiculous person that to suspect him of being someone voldemort would care about is idiotic, and that crouch's inability to bang him up in azkaban on spurious charges can only - given what happened to sirius - be a good thing.

but the issue is that - notwithstanding his commitment to extrajudicial punishment - barty crouch sr. is... clearly right to investigate bagman thoroughly.

we are told in order of the phoenix that voldemort's power depends on a vast network of ministry informants. we are shown in deathly hallows that his coup is only successful because almost the entirety of the civil service remains in post. we are shown time and time again throughout canon that voldemort's views - on blood-supremacy and magic-supremacy, on the supposed value of maintaining the class system - are incredibly mainstream political opinions, and we can infer from this that a majority of the population of wizarding britain have the view sirius tells us his parents did: that, while they're uneasy with voldemort's violence and while they're certainly not paid-up death eaters, they think voldemort has the right idea.

dumbledore - and the order - are shown throughout canon to be preoccupied with the big fish. the death eaters they target are voldemort's inner circle - the marked loyalists he trusts as generals. we never see - outside of the snatchers - the lower-profile but infinitely more important cogs in voldemort's machine: the people who traffic stolen goods and lift ministry secrets from filing cabinets and observe potential recruits in pubs and pass gossip along whisper networks until it reaches the dark lord. the sort of people crouch clearly wanted to eradicate, but couldn't find the goodwill within the ministry to do so.

bagman can easily fit this profile - he's presumably a pureblood or a half-blood and raised in the wizarding world, since his parents canonically have at least one wizarding friend [augustus rookwood]; he is clearly relaxed about making use of the class system, since he expects to finesse a job out of rookwood when his professional quidditch career ends; and he is possessed of extremely dubious morals. we also know that pleading ignorance of who you were working for was a famously successful - and, presumably, voldemort-sanctioned - way of getting away with having colluded with the death eaters. it makes just as much sense - then - for bagman's "oh, i just thought i was chatting about state secrets with rookwood as a mate" act to be in the same vein as lucius malfoy pretending to be under the imperius curse as it does for him to actually have been that dumb, and so it makes sense for him to have gone actively looking for information he could pass to rookwood because of some sympathies [even if they were uneasy ones] with rookwood's cause.

do i think he was a marked death eater? no - i think voldemort couldn't pick him out of a line-up and he never achieved anything other than being an informant rookwood could tap for details and documents he could pass up to his master if they looked interesting.

but this would have been what voldemort's ministry infiltration actually looked like - and it is a much more insidious, and interesting, concept than loads of aristocrats fighting and being sexy, which i think is really worth exploring when we think about wizarding politics.

#asks answered #asenora meta #i am obsessed with wizarding bureaucracy and i make no apologies #ludo bagman #barty crouch sr

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agirlandherquill · 26 days

Text

alrighty, so being tagged by @katwritesshit means i'm up for a very interesting tag game so here goes

rules: answer as many (or as few) of the questions about your WIP as you can

What was the first part of your WIP that you created? - might be my favourite question of the lot but for me at least, it's pretty simple, i start with an idea - a theme of sorts I suppose, and I wanted to write about a heist, I wanted treachery, danger, and crime (lots and lots of crime), and from there I spun the rest of my story

If your story was a TV show, what would the intro song be? - consulting my many, many Spotify playlists has made answering this one very difficult (shoutout once again to @katwritesshit for The World Ender because I love that song) but I'm going to have to say Dinner and Diatribes by Hozier or As It was, also by Hozier, most likely because I've spent a great majority of this story listening to Hozier along the way, since Wasteland Baby is one of my favourite albums and it fits so so well

Who are your favourite character(s) and why? - I feel as though I'm committing to a betrayal here by not saying the character who is supposed to be the main protagonist but I'm going to go for Fenley, purely because his cynical, overall dark demeanour has been the most entertaining to write (and his POV contains some of my favourite scenes of the novel)

What other pieces of media could share a fan base with your WIP? - now this one is FUN. especially since I draw inspiration from so so many things, Throne of Glass, The Cruel Prince, The Mummy (one of my all time favourite movies), Now You See Me, The Witcher - just to name a few, I'm not even going to mention the inspiration for the combat scenes because action movies are just (insert chef's kiss)

What has been your biggest struggle while writing your WIP? - truth be told, finding the time to write, as this labour of love has taken me a solid four (ish, I think) years to write, a lot has happened, I've grown with my novel which is to me at least, a very heartwarming thing

Are there any animals in your story? Talk about them! - sadly there aren't any major animal characters in my story, my characters use horses for transport most of the time but that's about it

How do your characters get around? - well, when they aren't on horseback they're either walking or sprinting for their lives

What part of your WIP are you working on right now? - edits, dreaded, dreaded edits - just kidding I'm loving getting to dive into the earlier parts of my novel and change bits as I go, I'm falling in love with the story all over again and I'm only editing Chapter 7/40(something, the current number escapes my mind)

What aspects of your WIP do you think will draw people in? - hopefully the sheer and utter chaos of unlikely thieves trying to do an impossible thing, the characters are my favourite sort to read about, and the tropes (not giving too much away I do enjoy a good mystery :) )

and that's about it, this was super fun so thanks for the tag!

and passing the metaphorical torch on, I'm going to tag: @the-ellia-west @somethingclevermahogony @unlikelycreationwasteland @leotheponderer @alwri-tes and of course anyone else that would like to give it a go! (being new at tag games appears to be my fatal flaw since i have very little clue who to tag, but here you go!)

(and as usual in my rambly responses, very, very little read through, but in my defence this is a late night post so I feel as though the grammar-police might cut me some slack :) )

#writeblr #creative writing #writing #fiction #writinganovel #novel #writer #writers on tumblr #writing game #wip game

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shmolish · 18 days

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https://www.tumblr.com/shmolish/747107246608138240/i-got-an-ideafor-a-bit-of-feelings-i-thought?source=share

Same anon here aaaand can't help but think of an idea for a part 2 if you want!

Maybe Prune juice finds y/n's diary and learns about y/n's plight behind y/n's back....

Aaaaaaaaaaand maybe to turn this intoba bit of a hurt comfort...Prune juice later reveals to y/n...he loves them back and that they ARE enough.

(Got idea from reading a bunch of hurt to comfort....also bonus if you want to add this in but if not I understand: he reveals that the reason he wants to get famous and live lavishly....is so he could make sure he could spoil y/n with his love and the lavish life ne wants to live with them! He wants to make sure y/n feels adored and never has to worry about a thing ever again!)

AN: T3$+S 4R3 C0M1NG UP. W9RK1NG H4RD. 1 2WE4R.

(Idk why I typed that, lol.)

Prune Juice x Reader

Oneshot (2/2)

Warnings: Angst (mild)

-Good Enough-

"Okay, what's up with you?"

Prune Juice had just walked in front of your desk, crossing his arms with a glare present on his face.

You titled your head in confusion. "What do you mean?" You'd ask.

He sighed. "You're acting.. weird. Like you keep avoiding me and zoning out all of the time," he explained.

Oh, so he noticed. You're trying to stay out of his life and yet you still end up troubling him. How disappointing.

"I'm not avoiding you," you would say to him

"Yes you are. Now what's bothering you?"

The world is being cruel again. Why does it always have to give you hope like this? Making you think that he cares..

"Nothing." You get up from your seat and walk outside of the classroom.

You just need to get away from everyone. You just need to get away from him.

You just need to get away from these emotions.

You wander through the rather empty hallways of the school. The taps of your shoes echo throughout these winding halls, soon being one of the only things occupying your thoughts.

The only other thing being Prune Juice, of course.

You just can't seem to stop thinking about him.

"Ah, wait!" A voice called out to you.

It was Prune Juice.

He quickly caught up to you and grabbed your hand.

"Is this about what you wrote in your journal..?" He'd ask with a solemn face.

Your eyes would widen a bit. "H- how do you know about that?"

He snickered. "You left it on your desk." He held it out and handed it you, to which you quickly snatched away from him.

"Hasn't anyone taught you to not look through people's stuff?" You'd huff.

"Haha, I didn't need that dumb book to realize how you felt about me," Prune Juice said.

"Why do you think it's dumb?"

"Because of what you write in it. You don't actually think your not good enough for me, right?"

You'd avert your gaze from him. "Well.."

Prune Juice abruptly leaves a kiss on you cheek, causing a dusty pink to cover your face.

"If I didn't think you were good enough for me, I wouldn't be talking to you now," he told you, a soft smile appearing on his face.

"I thought you just wanted to become rich and didn't want anyone else to bother you-!" You'd say in surprise, not at all expecting this outcome.

Prune Juice sighed. "You really don't get it?"

You shook your head.

"I want to become rich for you. I want to live alone with you. That way, I can spoil you and you won't have a thing to worry about!" He patted you head, looking at you with a grin.

"Wait, so you... like me?" You'd ask, blush still covering your face.

"I thought it was obvious."

"Why didn't you say anything sooner if you knew how I felt?"

"Well, it was supposed to be this whole thing. I wanted it to be grand, and worth remembering! ...But I guess the little secret came out prematurely..." he smiled awkwardly.

You smiled back. "I'm so glad.."

Prune Juice would cup your face, looking at you with longing. "Don't worry about not being enough, okay? I'll always love you."

《☆》 Fin

#cookie run kingdom #crk #crk x reader #cookie run kingdom x reader #cookie run #prune juice cookie #prune juice crk #prune juice cookie x reader #prune juice x reader #prune juice #prune juice angst #prune juice cookie x reader oneshot #angst #hurt comfort #comfort #crk prune juice x reader #prune juice x reader crk

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aeternallis · 6 months

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Hmm, I’m having feelings about this scene again, so before I get back to fic writing, I gotta just get this stuff off my chest.

See, in a lot of reconciliation fics I’ve read for KimChay, most often times when Chay asks why Kim acted the way he did, the reason is almost always some iteration of, "I wanted to protect you." Which is, in and of itself, it's not totally incorrect, but in my opinion, that answer has always felt a little off, yknow? Because it gives Kim the luxury of time in thinking about his actions and coming up with an excuse to justify his own cruel behavior. It gives him a way out that honestly feels a bit unfair to Chay, so most often it's totally brushed off to the side.

I'm not saying that answer is totally wrong, since I myself have used it in a roundabout way in my own fic, but the way I see it, at that specific moment, Kim's motivations as to why he dodged Chay and pulled away from him had absolutely nothing to do with protecting Chay and everything to do with protecting his own pride.

It's definitely not a calculated move; it's more impulsive than anything else. Lol It's an interesting thing to think about, since a part of me can't help but wonder: is this just a really mean habit he has, or is it because he didn't want Chay's perfect image of him to shatter?

Either way, whether it's part of his personality or all about protecting his image (I'm personality more leaning towards the former, ngl), Chay's wellbeing is not at all taken into consideration in this scene.

As a fan of Kim's character and trying to remain loyal to how he's portrayed in the show, I gotta not give him excuses, yknow? XD Lol

I think part of the reason this scene is so hard to watch for me is because, at the very moment at which Chay had needed Kim the most to explain to him what's going on, although Kim returns his feelings, the latter cared more about his own feelings than he ever did about the person he's in love with.

It comes to a head with their next encounter at the club scene-which is also painful af to watch-because in this moment, they both care more about their own feelings than they do each other, since Chay didn't even stop to think that Kim had just protected him from making a big mistake. And Kim didn't take Chay's feelings into consideration that seeing him would be hard to bear for Chay, considering how their breakup had gone down. :'D

In terms of character development, it's not totally a bad thing. After all, who in the world ever likes being caught red-handed AND called out (in this case, both Kim and Chay to each other)? In the beginning of the show, Porsche had a penchant for calling out Kinn's shit behavior-even when they were both aware that Kinn was already falling for him-and that allowed for the Theerapanyakul of that relationship to learn that if he wanted to be in Porsche's life, if he wanted Porsche to want to be in his life, more than loving him, Kinn also had to learn to respect him.

It's the same theme with both VegasPete and KimChay: there is a difference between loving someone and respecting them.

And for men like Kinn, Kim, and Vegas, can anyone even begin to imagine how difficult it would be to learn to respect someone, when all of them have lived their entire lives up until that point turning their noses down everyone else? That it's second nature for them to think of everyone else as trash?! That to have that sort of arrogance is part of why their family has been able to climb their way to the top?!

(The VegasPete novel makes so much more sense to me now, because Vegas found it so hard to learn to respect Pete that he had to create an entirely different persona for it! LOLOLOL HE HAD TO DISASSOCIATE, BECAUSE HIS ARROGANCE IS SUCH AN INTRINSINCT PART OF HIS PERSONALITY AS A THEERAPANYAKUL! HAHAHAHA! And Pete is all, "my baby is trying his best, so points for effort" Lol)

Kimchay's scenes up until this point have been tender and poignant, but there are moments even in the beginning where although Kim was falling for Chay already, he didn't respect him whatsoever (ignoring his calls, giving him homework without any intention of following up, etc.)

The breakup scene was a jostling reminder to the audience that we cannot ever forget that Kim is a Theerapanyakul, and with that name, comes all the hubris and arrogance that being a member of that family entails. There is credibility to what Pete says when he states that out of all of them, Kinn is the most normal.

In other words, Kinn is the most "normal" because not only does he genuinely care about the wellbeing of the bodyguards in a way the rest of the family doesn't (Tankhun is tactless when he speaks towards them, Vegas uses them as meat shields, and Kim is dismissive and cold towards them, etc), but also because of the softness he genuinely harbors inside, he's more easily able to let go of that arrogance (case in point: the forest adventure with Porsche).

Is it any wonder to Korn WHY the bodyguards can easily be bought off? :'D

(Side note: We know Kim himself is somewhat aware of his own vanity, as he was able to perfectly say the line in the screenshot without hesitation. On top of that, this is a very loaded line; wtf has he done before that he would even be aware of his own reputation?! Haha! I know the established fanon is also that he's bad at playing detective, but I wonder if it's not necessarily that he's bad at intel gathering, and more like he was having an off day with this particular leg of his detective work, since daddy dearest is actively making sure he's a couple steps ahead of his son. Hmm.

In my opinion, it lines up more with Kim's subsequent actions later down the road, and the overarching theme of KPTS (falling in love is in and of itself a humbling experience), as this gorgeous fucker did not at all think about the consequences of his actions. XD

It isn't until Chay has completely cut him off that Kim begins to learn that simply loving him won't be enough-will never be enough-to get him back in his life.

#kimchay #kinnporsche the series #meta post #i'm ranting again #i love these two so much #even if they're hard to think about sometimes

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nowiamcoveredinyou · 3 months

Text

Our own fairytale

Sherlock x reader

Word count:- 5519

A/n:- the most stupid idea perhaps with which I came up! Still if you enjoy it, lemme know!

The room lit up with the sunlight that came straight through the window. A Sunday that was as bright as it should when we think of the day. Yet Sherlock and John had to go out on a case. However they've promised to be back home before lunch.

"And then? What happened to the beast?" Asked Rosie, who laid her head on my lap as we sat in my bedroom... Well Sherlock and my bedroom. If the boys are out writing new pages of their adventures why not we enjoy some fairy tales too.

"Well, he turned into Handsome prince which he was before the enchantress came" I answered lightly booping the nose of Rosie, making her giggle.

"And belle and beast" she said getting up, "lived happily ever after."

"Well" I objected, "belle and the prince".

She nodded like she understood. She's a very feisty little girl, then she said,

"So beast... I mean the prince gave belle his library?" She was fascinated by the idea of having a personal library.

"Yes he did." I answered.

"Like Sherlock gives you books?" She asked and leaned on me.

"Mm hm yes absolutely" I answered remembering the moments of him buying me books. He always observes and notices the books on my online shopping app's wishlist. And surprises me as he buys one at a time for me.

"When will he come? And daddy?" She asked.

"Before lunch" I replied and Rosie got on the floor, humming and roaming around.

"Beast... I meant the prince .. he was so cruel to everyone no?" She enquired.

"Well it's because he didn't see anything good in him. He pushed everyone away because he thought he is not good enough, he ... " While saying I remembered how Sherlock pushed his friends away too. John told me once, he never thought he deserves anything good, he pushed everyone away who wanted nothing but to be with him, help him see good in himself. John, Molly, lestrade, Mrs Hudson... All of these friends of him still stayed because they knew, deep down Sherlock cares for them. It's just... He fights with criminals and they brings out the worst in him, he just wanted to protect his friends from all those cruel and evil men and women whom he encountered..

"He?" Rosie's voice popped my thought bubble.

"Y-yes?" I replied, I was obviously absent minded, and lost in all those thoughts, "where was I?"

"About the beast" Rosie reminded.

"The prince and yes... He just found the warmth and kindness in Belle, which was long worn out from his life, belle taught him to find joy in simple things" I answered and that again reminded me how Sherlock and I found tranquility in small things too. Like sitting together, walking hand in hand and how he told me "the way you giggle at the most simplest things is fascinating". He said he likes to see the world with my eyes, it's brighter that way. He said "you're my sunshine, you brightened my dark days". Maybe yes, for he loves when I speak of things I adore with passion. He loves to listen to me, even if I'm just describing a poem I read recently. He, the loner that he is, even loves my family, he says they always makes him feel included.

"This prince and Belle's story is" said our little Rosie, "seems familiar".

I got up and went closer to her, and we both went to the living room, "why's that?"

"Well.. you read books, and you're also very warm" saying so she hugged me, and she is the sweetest.

"Aww my darling thanks" I was about to hug her back but my phone rang. I took my phone to see the call I was expecting, right before lunch,

"Yes?" I answered to my husband.

"We've come" he replied from the other end.

"Okay " saying so I hung up smiling and went to the window, there came the two men talking and discussing about their case. Lestrade gave them a lift in his car and dropped them home. Rosie stood beside me too, she giggled suddenly, and that indicated she has something to say, either clever or funny,

"There comes our prince to her Belle."

I blushed at this, even Rosie called me Belle. Belle is my favourite princess of all time. And whenever someone compares me with her I feel delighted, especially when someone compares my relationship with the fairytale one.

"Yeah there he comes, with his clogsworth and Lumiere" I said making Rosie laugh,

"Is Mrs Hudson our Mrs Potts?" She asked, exactly how I like it, making her obsessed with my favourite Disney film too.

"Could be, are you our chip?" I asked and that made her even happier, however before she could answer Sherlock and John came in arguing, as usually blaming lestrade for being stupid.

"Welcome" Rosie said and bowed to them in a princessly manner, they were stunned and confused. Only I knew I have put the seeds of Disney too deep in her brain. She's obsessed over beauty and the beast.

Sherlock and John stood confused, not knowing what to say to that. But her father obviously recalled she had homeworks and followed her asking her about her studies while Sherlock walked to me asking,

"What was that?"

"I don't know" I said smirking, "rude detective."

"Okay sweet princess" he said and was about to walk away but came back and took my chin between his fingers and whispered, "my Belle".

Then pulled me into a kiss. Just like the the fairytale one. After the kiss he handed me a paper bag and I know what's in it exactly,

"The secret garden, it's latest on my Amazon wishlist, Thank you" I thanked him taking the book out. Sniffing the pages.

"No problem" he said, he paused, I know why, admiring me while I admired the book, "I don't have a Library like prince Adam to give you.." he continued, "but...I'll make you a library, little by little, with all your favourite books."

#bbc sherlock #sherlock holmes #sherlock fanfic #sherlock x reader #sherlock x y/n

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sanchoi21 · 7 months

Text

Inner Demons

Toji Fushiguro x reader

Warning: This work contains a lot of jealousy towards Toji's first wife and mentions of smut. So do not proceed if uncomfortable.

Being jealous was an under statement when you were here burning with jealousy when you saw the photo in which Toji was sweetly smiling at his wife on the day of his wedding. You were miserable as he never showed that smile of his towards you. Sometimes you just wanted to forget about everything, about him having a past without you or the very existence of the sign of their love, Megumi, whom you had come to love so much. You just wanted to be Toji's everything, his one and only, the one who's surname he might take, the one to make him smile, the one to make him cry and to take his virginity. You were truly shameless to have such thoughts, he might kill you once he gets to know that you still can't accept his past and despised his previous wife, wishing it was you he was married to. But unfortunately you were just a second, a replacement to his real soulmate, that's what you always felt after being in this marriage and the noisy neighbours never once allowed you to remove such thoughts out of your head. Your inner demons had consumed you whole.

So one day you decided to write this distorted thoughts of yours into a diary, instead of bottling them up in your mind. You kept the diary in a safety locker and locked it while the key would always be in your mobile cover. You made sure that none of Fushiguros saw it, or it's the end of everything. Since that day, you were atleast a bit more stable, being able to went your cruel thoughts into the diary.

These days you were quitter than usual, and Toji as well as Megumi noticed that. Both of them were a men of few words, and didn't know how to express their affection as they were always on the receiving end, but that didn't mean they didn't care. They cared alot about you and did small small things to make you happy, but your smile didn't reached your eyes these days. So today Toji decided to ask you what's the matter. When he gently opened your room's door, he saw you writing something in a diary, he got curious to what it could be, but as you noticed his presence you quickly shut the diary and shoved it inside the locker and turned to face him.

Toji: Y/n.. Sorry for disturbing you. But I just came to check on you. Are you fine?? And I am curious, what were you writing??

Y/n: I am fine, you don't need to worry or check on me and I was just making my to do list for tomorrow, that's all.

Toji: O-oh ok!! Rest well then.

He said and left the room closing the door behind him, you sighed heavily once he was gone, as you had somehow managed to answer without stammering. But little did you know that Toji heard your heavy sigh and saw you keeping the key into your mobile cover. Tonight when you will sleep, he was definitely going to find out what was in that diary and what made you act that way. He was pretty much sure that the reason behind your behavior these days was hidden in that diary.

As the night fell and you were fast asleep in your room, Toji silently entered your room. Being an assassin he was an expert in trespassing without anyone knowing. He took your mobile and removed the key and opened the drawer. He took your diary and slowly came back to his room to read it. Once he opened the first page he was shocked to see it was filled with scribbles and many words some of them included, "I hate myself for feeling such way but I can't help it." As he kept flipping the pages he became more and more shocked, as hot tears stinged his eyes threatening to flow down his cheeks. He had no clue you felt this way. He thought he gave you love and enough space so that you won't feel uncomfortable, but he didn't know that this space was what was misguiding you. He indeed loved his previous wife till the point where his entire world stopped when she died, but she is now just a pleasant memory for him, that's why sometimes he used to mention how you two are similar, never in a million years did he thought that you would think that he misses her and you are not enough. Instead of feeling anger for all the hatred you had sprouted in your diary, he was sad because he couldn't properly express his love towards you. He didn't know that you loved him to the point of wanting to change the past, just so you could be his everything and make him happy. It was a selfish wish of yours, but for Toji he saw it as a selfless desire for his love. His wife was precious to him, but that was in the past, you are in front of him now, making him smile everyday and he needed to show you how much he loves you, before it's too late.

That night Toji told Megumi to go to his friend's house as he had something important to discuss with you. You were still sleeping silently in your room, blissfully unaware of the fact that you had been discovered. As soon as Megumi left the house, Toji entered your room. He sat beside your sleeping figure and gently stroked your head, the slight movement made you open your eyes as you quickly sat up. Toji gently pulled you close so that you can lay your head in his chest, which you did. As he showed you your diary, all the blood in your face drained.

Toji: Don't worry, I am not mad. Rather I am sad, that you didn't consider me worthy enough to tell me what you were feeling all this time.

Y/n: T-Toji I-I c-can e-explain...

Toji: You don't need to, I read everything.

Y/n: T-Then are you g-gonna l-l-leave me???

Toji: Why in the world would I do that?? I must be stupid if I did that to someone who loves me so much that she wishes to change the past. You know what Y/n, Megumi's mom was indeed special to me, but that was in the past, she is just a memory now, Y/n. She ain't coming back from the grave to take me ya know.. Y/n I married you, because I fell in love with you, not because you are similar to her nor as a replacement. Infact you two are quite opposite, you are funny type while she was calm type. Megumi doesn't need a mom at this age as he is capable to take care of himself. I married you out of pure love Y/n.. I just want your love, I don't expect anything else from you. I love you as a person Y/n, not as a replacement, you never were a replacement.

You didn't know when tears had started flowing down your cheeks. You felt sad and guilty to blame everything on Megumi's deceased mother, she wasn't at fault, nor was Toji. You cried and cried in Toji's arms as he consoled you till you had calmed down to form some coherent words. You realized just how much Toji loved you, to the point of even ignoring all the rubbish you sprouted in your diary about his innocent wife. As guilt grew too much, you opened your mouth, chocking a sob.

Y/n: I-I am s-so sorry Toji, for d-doubting you and b-blaming your wife who w-wasn't even at f-fault. I am r-really s-sorry, will you p-please forgive me??

Toji: Yes I forgive you Y/n.. but now you are my wife so stop feeling guilty already. And about my virginity, let's say I am still a virgin and you can corrupt me the way you want.

Y/n: W-What you read t-that too??

Toji: Of course I did. Take a look at this.

Saying this, Toji slowly removed his robe, and your jaw dropped when you saw him wearing a pretty red harness on his naked body. You blushed at the captivating site in front of you.

Toji: What do you think, Y/n?? I never wore something like this for her, now I am wearing this especially for you. So say Y/n, won't you take my virginity now??

Y/n: T-Toji you really are something. And why thankyou, I am going to take that virginity of yours and completely devour you, claim you as mine alone, I have waited long enough.

Toji: Yes and so have I. Y/n you are my one and only and I want you to feel the same way so don't hesitate now.

Y/n: Thankyou so much Toji, for everything, I won't hesitate I promise. OH wait but what about Megumi, he might hear us.

Toji: Don't worry about that!! I already sent that brat away at his friends home, he won't return till evening or maybe till tomorrow morning, as he knows if he wants a sibling he has to be patient.

You blushed at the way Toji seductively said the last part, but you threw all your shame away and latched onto Toji, biting and nibbling his soft flesh, claiming him and marking him as yours. That day and eventually night, you both continued to fuck each other in every possible position and in every corner of house till no corners were left untouched. You fucked like newly weds, with Toji whimpering every now and then as your were being a little too rough with him. You rode him all night long while choking him from time to time, which earned breathy whimpers from him, as he continued to paint your insides white for nth time that night. After you both had finally finished and were tired as hell, but still decided to clean the house before, Megumi came the next morning, good thing he was smart enough to not come back at that night, or he might had seen you two fucking like animals in heat.

It was the best fuck of your life, and you knew you would always remember it. As after all you did take his virginity, it may not be physically but psychologically, then yes, you did and you were more than satisfied with it. Now that all your misunderstandings were cleared and all of your inner demons were baptised by Toji, you, Toji and Megumi grew more and more closer as each day passed by, also leading to Toji to change his surname from Fushiguro to your surname soon enough as Megumi proudfully did it too. And as the day ended you once again wrote in your diary, "Dear diary, today too, I spent a happy day with my family."

I don't know what I am doing. Though I have 2 incomplete drafts, one of Gojo and other of Ash Ketchum, still I don't know how I ended up posting Toji, even though he wasn't in any drafts.😐😑 Again obsessed over him. Next post might be Gojo, it's almost done.😊

#toji x y/n #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x reader #toji fushiguro #jjk fushiguro #jjk #comfort #jealousy

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lee-hakhyun · 10 months

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from an outside perspective it’s really feeling like they’re emphasising kim dokja’s status as an eldritch god. like,,, you don’t feel it through orv because kim dokja himself has just enough knowledge from reading twsa to navigate, and on his own you can really tell how human he actually is, but. take things from a distanced perspective, and suddenly. suddenly, it’s azathoth and the outer gods of lovecraftian lore, played completely straight. i’ve heard enough people compare azathoth and kdj that i think i can say this much

you wanna know something i’ve thought about a lot regarding kdj and the oldest dream? about yjh becoming a terrorist, and how kimcom willingly went back into the fray, how they returned to the previous timeline - and how some people couldn’t comprehend their choices at first? it makes me think of that old trope of ‘going mad from the revelation’, how some people say that gazing upon this otherworldly being’s true form or ‘learning the truth of the world’ would surely make someone go mad.

go mad with what, though? insanity? or grief? because so, so often, one’s pain is incomprehensible to outsiders, and fail to understand how or why you lash out or break down. it’s a depressing pattern in real life, too. kdj goes mad with grief and self-hatred, learning the truth; kimcom take on the insane route of going through the apocalypse again just to reach the end; yjh is unable to heal, to cope with a world without the scenarios and without his companion to bear through it, and so he fights over the replica of the arc. from an outsider’s perspective, without the understanding that the people involved are all brokenhearted over truths only they know, it might come off as insanity. but it’s all just grief.

with that said, however, to have someone jung heewon KNEW, cruel as he was, replaced by someone from a world beyond - and to start singing the praise of someone else’s name? to say ‘i need to find them?’ how all of them look to one name that outsiders simply DO NOT KNOW, to hail this unknown person as important, as an idol, as… as a god…

the 41st turn before their version of shin yoosung travelled to the other worldlines is a forgotten story, and by orv logic forgotten stories are outer gods. in lovecraftian lore, the outer gods sought to wake the blind idiot god azathoth, who in orv is represented by kdj dreaming for ‘eternity’. also, the Outer Gods of orv (the one actually being called as such right now) see the side story - which is the ‘forgotten’ 41st turn, now being written in where once it was not - as their chance to finally be written on the wall. so it’s. it’s. this is just singshong taking their lovecraftian elements to their logical extreme

interestingly, however, kdj isn’t the only reader anymore, is he? orv places a lot of emphasis on communication and writing on the wall, but in the side story it could perhaps be interpreted as ‘trying to be read by one person in particular’. and then the readers that die are labelled as ‘kdj33’ or ‘kdj47’, reducing them to being ‘just a part’, but… they’re all different people. they’re all people who took in kdj’s story, thus his story becomes a part of their own - but only a part. i’ve said that before, but.

well, you can’t force your own narrative on to someone else.

han sooyoung tried that, actually, didn’t she? tried to get kdj back through ending the story early only to realize the hurt she was causing and backing off. you can’t always reach people in the way you want. that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t stop trying, but there’s also a point where you need to recede, to compromise. am i making sense? i have no idea where singnshong is taking this story, but i’m looking at hsy with lee hakhyun and ceokdj with the readers turned kdj fragments and the outer gods wanting their story written on the wall and. i feel like i’m starting to see a pattern. i could also be hallucinating, but i could also not be. i offer this for your consideration

okay i put this aside for a bit but yes. oh my god. eldritch kdj.. i had not heard about this before, but that's so interesting thinking about it through that lens. and in the side story, hsy forcing the memories of orv on jhw to try to break her.. the explict mentioning of han sooyoung being seen as a 'god' in that moment...

fun fact, if you don't remember! lovecraftian horrors are also mentioned as outer gods in orv

chapter 179. when talking with the devourer of dreams, kdj mentioned these modifiers

the fear of sarnath - bokrug

horror from the hills - chaugnar faugn

master of r'lyeh - cthulhu

now, adding my own thoughts - the pattern is identity. stories.

there's something wrong with everything in this turn.

the kkomas were cute. until it was revealed that they were dead readers. though.. is that not also kind of what the yoo joonghyuk kkomas are? they may have all been yoo joonghyuk, but their lives in that turn were their own. <- however. the difference here is that while the yjh kkomas were all 'yoo joonghyuk' these kdj kkomas were NOT. they all had their own lives before being brought to wos, and upon being killed and placed in the theater.. they lost themselves.. which is terrifying to think about. you die, and you're brought back to watch your companions go on without you, but you're not yourself anymore. you're kim dokja, who wants to continue watching the stories on the screen.

the transmigrated readers. until the latest chapters, we hadn't been shown the real effect of the readers possessing characters in this world (honestly, we were led to believe that most people transmigrated into 'extras' without their own story. but that's not true, is it?). cheon inho has no one close to him as far as we know (lol), but that's not the same for others. what about the people who knew the possessed characters? lee hakhyun realizes this in the latest chapter, that maybe him and the readers coming here were an additional disaster for the people that lived here.

lee hakhyun's problems,, he's constantly going back and forth on 'lee hakhyun' and 'cheon inho', and there's clearly something wrong with the way he sees himself... we know more about him that he does currently, and if he does find out. i don't think things are going to end well.

and of course. everything about kim dokja. his name is in everyone's minds, the readers are desperate for a source of hope and he has become that to them. kim dokja is being idolized. even before the scenarios, there were those using kim dokja's story in the same way he used yjh. it's not framed as a negative, if that's what you need to do survive, then you should always do what you can to survive, no matter what. but even when you borrow stories, you need to stay yourself. you are your own person.

there's a clear connection with all of these, and it's identity. who someone is, the way they're seen, their stories. what makes you yourself? stories make up who you are, and these outer gods want their own stories written down on the wall to define themselves. rep kdj wanting the readers to forge a new story, lee hakhyun discovering stories that were never told in orv.

right now, nobody's happy. time is running out for the outer gods, the readers have unwittingly destroyed others by taking over these 'extras', kimcom are still desperately searching for their star, our dear protagonist is continuing to doubt himself. and kim dokja is still watching.

...this is orv. not everyone will get their happy ending. their goals oppose each other. we can hope for the best, but that isn't going to happen.

#word VOMIT. im not editing this sorry if it makes no sense!#THESE ANALYSES ARE ALWAYS SO GOOD AND I AM NOT A PERSON WHO THINK ABOUT THINGS TOO DEEPLY...#i cut some parts of this out (mainly about han sooyoung + the outer gods) because i couldn't word it right. but they connect with this too #<- might come back to this once i have the corresponding chapters translated. give me a day or two #i know i talk about identity so much but this is what the side story is all about #i didnt know about the lovecraftian stuff until i read it on the korean wiki for orv <- it's so much more detailed than the eng one lol #ask #orv #orv side story #orv spoilers #lee hakhyun #somewhat related? but i realized part of why i related with lhh so hard #it's the trans experience #living a life that might not be the worst‚ but you're not truly yourself. feeling like you're living someone else's life‚#responding to a name that isn't really your own.#anyway the TRANS CHEON INHO PFP IS STAYING !!

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