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ronalddear · 8 months

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when francis lawrence sauntered onto the stage after gary ross took his final bow, there seemed to be an initial sense of relief. gary ross had ruined some aspects of the movie adaptations (characterization of peeta, the cave scene, etc.) and father francis was here to save the day.

and it is true. i think it is widely accepted in the fandom that the first movie is the worst of the adaptations. and francis lawrence fixed some of the problems people had with the first movie. some of them...

but the hopes that were ushered in with his arrival were quickly crushed. because he consistently reduced its female protagonist to a simplification of tropes.

the books present a version of katniss everdeen that is complex. katniss is the type of person to refuse to cry in front of her family and district after volunteering for prim (thg, 23). she is also the same person who holes herself in her room to sob after shooting an arrow at the gamemakers during her private session (thg, 103).

katniss is the type of person who never has plans to marry and have children because of her trauma (thg, 9; cf, 8). but she is also the same person who is maternal to children in the series (thg, 199; cf, 2; cf, 7; cf, 91). and she is the same person who feels a surge of giddiness when the boy she was attracted to says sweet, absurd things like how being sent to a death arena was a piece of luck if it meant that he could finally talk to her (thg, 301). or the same girl who momentarily forgets that the boy that she loves was tortured because she is basking in the euphoric anticipation of seeing and kissing him again (mj, 152)

katniss is a character with A LOT of complexity. because she is a teenage girl. she has a lot of desires to express her emotions that are natural. but, because she is traumatized from years of hunger and a single focus on survival, these emotions are often suppressed. especially when her survival could be compromised by showing them.

but francis lawrences's adaption failed to capture this nuance and instead reduced katniss to simplistic tropes. and, the first of which is the stoic badass protagonist. in the series, katniss is not portrayed as having regular teenage girl emotions. moments from the books where katniss is crying over her private session or blushing at peeta's flirting are completely pulled from the movie as katniss becomes the badass protagonist. she is cold. she is defiant. she is powerful.

she is not a girl desperately trying to reapply the bandages to peeta's wound before she takes out the berries. instead, she shakes her head in defiance and sticks it to the capitol. leaving no interpretation that she could have been doing it to save peeta because she loved him.

because in the movies, katniss is not a teenage girl. she is only the mockingjay, a badass revolutionary.

and anytime that katniss was not her stoic, girlboss self, she was reduced to another trope: the hysterical woman.

when i looked at the books, katniss doesn't actually cry that often and she especially does not cry in front of the cameras. i was initially very surprised about this because in the movies… she was hysterical all the time. all the freaking time.

when rue dies (thg, 234). when the man in district eleven is shot (cf, 18). when she finds out that she won't be able to say goodbye to her family before the quell (cf, 53). when she considers losing both gale and peeta in the capitol (mj, 144). in the movies, she. freaks. out. on. camera. (which is completely out of character)

in the books, katniss is emotionally affected. sure. of course. but she didn't hysterically sob. never. especially in front of the camera. she knew better.

there were only two times in the books where katniss hystically sobbed on camera. once, when peeta hit the forcefield (cf, 79). and when she realized how snow was torturing him to break her (mj, 141).

and these moments in the books are so powerful. because they do not happen often. because in that moment, katniss is so overwhelmed with the thought of peeta dying or being tortured that she doesn't even consider how it looks for her to be hysterical. how it makes her look weak. weak for loving someone in a world where your love can be used against you. because all she can think about is him (cf, 79; mj, 141). because he is her freaking lover.

so, francis lawrence completely missed the mark with katniss's characterization. first because he wouldn't let her just be a teenage girl. he reduced her trauma response to stoicism. and instead took a role as plutarch and molding katniss into a revolutionary.

and, second, his depiction lacked the nuance of her responses to trauma. she was not hysterical. her screams would not fill a stage. they were usually blocked in her throat, only privy for her to hear (mj, 120).

so, i would like to say that i was surprised to hear his thoughts on lucy gray and katniss in the empire interview. but then again… we have three movies as proof of his failure to display nuanced teenage girls as anything other than reductionary, sexist tropes.

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ronalddear · 8 months

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hearing that the producer of the hunger games refused to have an actual 'so after' scene because 'it is a war movie'... as if mockingjay: part two was not the most trivialized depiction of war i have ever seen.

in the book, katniss concludes that "they can design dream weapons that come to life in [her] hands, but they will never again brainwash [her] into the necessity of using them" (mj, 320).

the war destroys katniss. and she wishes that the war didn't happen. that the two powers found a way to solve their differences without it. that the use of weapons was not necessary. that people didn't need to die.

because mockingjay is an anti-war book. AN ANTI-WAR BOOK!

however, the movie was big on depicting the dream weapons and boss babe warrior taking down the man, but failed to follow through on the second part of katniss's conclusion.

it trivialized war to fancy revolutionary anthems (with a techno remix, of course) and cool, badass cinematic shots. it reduced sacred symbols into tools for propaganda. it transforms katniss into a warrior babe, diminishing her as simply 'the mockingjay' rather than an individual. the things that suzanne was actively writing against.

so don't freaking tell me that you couldn't include a 'so after' scene because you made a *serious* war movie... *shaking my freaking head*

it doesn't need to be a sex scene. because that wasn't the most important part. what it needs to be is some indication that peeta and katniss are more than just platonic roommates who like to look at the ruins of their village in the rain and snuggle after nightmares!

because suzanne's book ended with a romantic 'so after' scene. why? because maybe that is the whole freakin' point. because while everything in katniss's life was taken from her, her love for peeta and his love for her were still there. ready to help each other heal.

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ronalddear · 8 months

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in the book, katniss concludes that "they can design dream weapons that come to life in [her] hands, but they will never again brainwash [her] into the necessity of using them" (mj, 320).

because mockingjay is an anti-war book. AN ANTI-WAR BOOK!

however, the movie was big on depicting the dream weapons and boss babe warrior taking down the man, but failed to follow through on the second part of katniss's conclusion.

so don't freaking tell me that you couldn't include a 'so after' scene because you made a *serious* war movie... *shaking my freaking head*

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ronalddear · 8 months

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⚠️LAST OF US EPISODE 8 SPOILER ⚠️

David and his crew were Joel's literal worst fear.

One of his crew immobilized him and his weakness got the best of him, just like he predicted when he was talking to Tommy. He was stuck recovering while Ellie did her best to keep them safe and in doing so she fell victim to the one common force that has taken away the thing he loves most. People who think they know what's best for everyone.

Ellie is then preyed upon but what is easily the worst of people, David. One could argue that cannibalism was a product of desperation but not the rest. Not his affinity for young girls with no one protecting them.

David's crew is not only the one thing Joel feared while helping Ellie, David himself is the antithesis of what Joel was fighting to do. Joel's every action was made to protect her and as weird as he thought she was in the beginning he never pushed her to change who she was. He even questioned why she would trust the Fireflies because he remembers his little brother becoming ome of them and losing his independence.

And then theres David who seeks to control and manipulate. He insists he knows whats best but seeks only to satisfy himself. He pushed Ellie to give up her independence and change to be more like him with empty promises. Then when he can't get his way, he preys on her in more ways than one and when she can finally take control she destroys him out of fear.

Her bubble had been burst, for almost a year now shes known Joel, a guarded yet humble man, who protects her at every turn and allows her to feel safe. She finally sees this man, who only seeks to force her to submit to everything he wants her to be and when she resists, he threatens to use her as a resource.

That look from Joel was one of fear and the feeling of failure. A look of realization that he couldn't protect her this time and the depravity of man almost took her, and he cared. So he used the one word that would let her know he had her and she was safe again. One word that he begged would comfort her in a moment where his lack of control of the situation could have ended in losing the thing he loved most again. So he said it to her to remind or even confess to her that he's there and she is safe.

Babygirl.

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ronalddear · 8 months

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A quick note on something that people seem to be ignoring or just NOT seeing from episode one:

Joel’s eyes were open when Tess first walked into their apartment in the show, and then he closed them really quick / pretended to be asleep before she came into the bedroom area and urged him to turn over so that she could climb into bed. I believe HE did this because he didn’t want to have a conversation about why he was already awake/why he was upset so early in the morning.

SHE did this - probably because it was routine for them to come to bed at different hours and get comfortable in whatever way they could - but also because she didn’t want him to see her face just yet because she wanted a few hours of sleep before she had to pacify him about it and they dealt with it.

He then ADJUSTS his arm so that she can put her hand between his arm and his chest, and reaches up to TAKE her hand in his before they both settle down for however long it is they lay together before Tess gets up.

Idk how people can say “she only climbed into bed with him like that because he was passed out and he wouldn’t have let her do it otherwise” or “he feels nothing for her and it was out of place” or “he didn’t even know she was there”.

He knew.

He was awake and and all she had to do was urge him to roll forward with one hand and he did. That’s not the reaction of someone that’s still stone cold passed out. This was CLEARLY a routine. As soon as he woke up the second time, he seemed shocked she wasn’t still in bed and immediately went searching for her.

Watch again and pay attention to the way his eyes are open - and he blinks a few times - and then he closes them before she can SEE he’s awake.

It changes the entire dynamic of the scene to the fact that neither of them want to deal with whatever is going on in their heads just yet and they want to enjoy just LAYING next to someone for as long as the moment will last.

I understand that there are people that feel the scene was out of place and hate the idea of Joel and Tess together but like … to ignore the fact that he WASN’T out cold when she walked in and to say that he had no idea she was in bed with him and that he didn’t react or that there was no easy physical intimacy between them in this scene is just flat out wrong.

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ronalddear · 8 months

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not to feel the way I felt—

Fandom: The Last of Us (HBO)

Pairing: Joel Miller x Tess Servopoulos

Word Count: 3.9k words

Summary: “I never ask you for anything, not to feel the way I felt—” Moments in their lives where Joel felt something, if not they way she felt.

A/N: I love Joel and Tess. They are mom and dad, they’re endgame, they’re the most beautiful and tragic love story and it was physically painful to not write them.

“I don’t need it that bad, Tess.”

She let out a mocking laugh and placed her hands on her waist. Head tilted and eyes squinting down at him, she asked, “What, so you have morals now? Is that it?”

He snorted and pushed the plate of cooked rabbit harder than he was supposed to. It hit the wall, the plate shattering and spilling the food all over the floor. That had done it for her. When she turned around, her features were taught with fury, her clenched fists banged against the table.

“Fuck you, Joel!”

He deserved that. In a fit of rage, he’d declined the only food they’d found recently. It was cold out and they had three mouths to feed but only two pairs of capable hands what with Tommy being indisposed. As they argued in the little shed they’d come to call home, his little brother was half-asleep in the warmest corner, shivering under the only blanket they had. He’d fed him the last of the chicken broth they had left from the last time they successfully raided a supermarket.

“I can’t eat that, Tess,” he said softly, his lips trembling as his mind replayed the state of her when she came home with the chicken. He still couldn’t look at her, the guilt eating away at his heart as he thought of what must’ve gone though her head to agree to such a thing for food.

“We’ve done far worse for food. This is nothing.”

“It’s not nothing,” he said, his voice breaking. It was his fault. He should have been the one to go out for food, but he let his emotions win out and stayed behind with Tommy. His fault that they didn’t have enough ammo to begin with. If they did, he knew she wouldn’t have hesitated to shoot those guys up for the two rabbits she’d gotten from them.

“If you don’t eat that, Miller, I’ll fucking kill you myself. I don’t care. One less mouth to feed.”

She wouldn’t, he knew that. But the fact that she would make such a threat was enough to show him how grave their situation was. She picked up her own plate and dug into her share of the rabbit she traded for…for lack of a better word, sex. She stabbed at the meat with the knife she’d pushed into many men, tearing the charred animal apart before shoving a big piece in her mouth. Bite after bite, she ate so quickly that he doubted that she chewed well enough.

His stomach growled and his tongue salivated at the sight of the meat on the broken plate. He closed his eyes, scolding himself for wanting the food he’d so adamantly rejected. Hunger had company in his belly that stirred, feeling queasy from the reminder of how broken she looked when she came back. It wasn’t just the physical aspect of it all— the limp in her walk, her swollen lips, the hand mark around her throat. She had an emptiness in her eyes, like the emptiness in Sarah’s when she died in his arms.

Tess looked dead.

She ate and walked around and screamed at him for not eating the rabbit she’d secured, but she might as well be dead from the blankness of her stare. He thanked the sun for setting early on him, for giving him the small mercy of not having to see her in that state again. But this wasn’t something that would go away. It wasn’t a unique feature of the collapsed world. Women had faced all this before and they continued to face it in the ruins of a world that was never safe for them. He knew that she would carry it with her forever.

When she was done, she collected the meat he’d kicked away like an ungrateful brat and wrapped it up before storing it under the blanket of snow at the shed’s door. They couldn’t let it lie there just because he couldn’t stomach it. Food was food. It was the most valuable thing in the new world. They’d lied, killed and stabbed allies in the back for it. She’d exchanged herself for it.

Despite their disagreement, they found warmth in each other’s arms as they huddled together in the cold. All their blankets had gone toward keeping Tommy warm and he felt a surge of guilt for keeping her cold and uncomfortable for his brother. He was his family. She wasn’t. She had no obligation to keep Tommy alive. But she did anyway. He owed her. But so did she. The three of them had saved each other too many times for them to keep a record and pay off debts. Protecting each other was just the way of life now.

Joel pulled her closer to his chest when he felt her shaking. She cried easily unlike him. While he let everything fester inside and weight him down, she let everything out every now and then. She cried her heart out, sometimes even screamed if they were a safe distance from infected, and was back to work within minutes like nothing had happened. She was practical with her emotions, chewing on it and spitting it out so that she could have a clear head for whatever they had to do next.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into her matted hair. She shook in his arms and stained his freshly cleaned shirt with her tears. He held her as he did many other nights when she called out for her husband and son in her sleep. He held her as he would for the many other nights to come in their decades of life together.

“What stupid thing do you miss?” Tommy asked, nailing the planks together for the boat they were building for the next step in their journey. The question wasn’t for Joel, but he answered in his head- popsicles. Tommy and Tess were talkative. It was how they kept themselves going. Joel did not participate, but he listened. That was how he kept going.

“I don’t know… I don’t think much about the stupid shit,” she answered as she cleaned their guns. “Refrigerator? We could really use that right now.”

“Nah! I told you stupid thing, not something useful. Tell me something that’s some useless shit.”

“Makeup, I guess. I didn’t wear much, but I liked lipsticks a lot.”

“Dang, yeah that’s pretty useless. I miss my hair conditioner. It smelled nice and made my hair all soft and curly. Chicks dug it.”

She laughed and ruffled Tommy’s sticky, greasy hair before letting out an exaggerated sound of disgust. “I miss cheese. God I would kill for cheese right now.”

The duo went back and forth, discussing what useless thing they missed the most as he worked with them in silence.

Maybe that was why he stepped into the old cosmetics store once he was done with the handover of the pills they’d smuggled into the QZ. It was one of the stores that hadn’t been picked over already. He wasn’t a complete stranger to beauty stores, but they still made him uncomfortable with their unfamiliarity. He stopped when found a shelf with lipstick…cartridges? No, that was not the right word.

This was so stupid.

He picked one off the shelf and rotated the bottom of the thing like he’d seen many women do. He wasn’t completely clueless. A repulsively bright pink color popped out and he winced internally about how much Tess would hate the color. He’d never seen her in makeup before. Not many opportunities for that in a fucking apocalypse. But something told him that she wouldn’t like something so…loud. He went through each one, imagining Tess’ reaction to the colors and putting them down when he found an argument against each one.

Take one of each, a voice in him screamed. He could. It wasn’t like he had to pay for them. She would laugh in his face if he returned to her apartment with not just the cards he traded for pills, but lipsticks. She would laugh at the one lipstick he intended to take back to her. But multiple would have her mocking him for the rest of their lives. Tess wasn’t one for anything that wasn’t practical. Every little thing they put in their pack on their journey to the Boston QZ, she evaluated for their uses. Nothing frivolous went in her pack. Except for her wedding band and engagement ring.

When he found a soft pink, he stopped his search. It wasn’t too much. It was a pretty color and they looked close enough to the natural pink of lips. Not her lips. He remembered the color of her lips well enough. And he thought this color wouldn’t look too bad over it. He slipped it into his pocket with the magazine he had found for his gun, feeling ridiculous but not regretting it one bit.

The mocking was worth it for how her newly painted lips stretched up in a smile as she looked at her own reflection on the switchblade she had in her pocket. And it was more than worth it when the pretty pink lips wrapped around his dick that night.

iii

“N-no, I don’t have the cards for that.” She curled in on herself, shaking in cold despite the sweltering heat of the summer day. Beads of sweat collected on her burning forehead and he pushed her hair out of the way to see her properly. Her condition had only gotten worse over the night. He would’ve gone out in the dark of night to get her the medicines she needed, but she insisted that sleep would cure her. Bullshit.

Now she’d given him the real reason for not letting him buy her medicines— she didn’t have enough cards to exchange for it. She was stubborn, didn’t like owing anyone anything. She would kill a bunch of people before accepting help. He could empathize with that. But he could also lie to give her the medicines he’d bought by adding some of his cards to hers. The fight they’d have over it was for him to deal with later.

“You did. You’re just shit at counting,” he lied, sitting next to her. The water he’d heated up for her sat untouched in the vessel on the concrete blocks they called bedside table.

He fed her first, scooping out the red beans from the rusting can and feeding it to her one by one. She did not put up a fight. She accepted his assistance and even held on to his arm the whole time. Her eyes were glazed over and it felt like she weighed much less as she placed her entire weight on him when she fell onto his lap. He managed to coax the pills into her, but barely as she almost spit one of them out and he had to force it back through her lips.

Tess mumbled in her sleep all night. But that was not the reason he couldn’t get himself to close his eyes. He had to monitor her temperature. He had to make sure she would be alright. If there were no signs of her condition getting better, he would have to wake her up to force more pills into her system. If she didn’t get better by the morning, he would have to drag her to the old doctor in their building with a promise of more Oxy for her.

The shitty alcohol they’d traded for sat on the kitchen counter, calling on to him to take just one sip. Just one or two or more to numb the ache that had etched itself permanently in his muscles. He hadn’t gone without drinking for…since forever. It was the only way to get a decent few hours of sleep so that he could go out for work the next day. He had to work the next day. Sewage duty. With her incapacitated, more work was crucial to survival. What he’d make the next day would barely cover what they needed, but there was no choice. He had to go no matter how much his muscles ached and his bones creaked.

Pins and needles pierced his head as the clock ticked. His hands shook like they did the first time he took a life. He really needed a fucking drink. He’d gone too many hours without one.

He played with the revolver in his hand, opening and closing the cylinder to see chambers half full. It wouldn’t take much. Everything would be over in just a second. He sighed, burying his face in his hands as he tried to rid himself of his thoughts. Staying awake was a danger to his life.

She mumbled more, pulling him out of his destructive thoughts. He adjusted himself on the bed and placed the back of his hand on her forehead to check her temperature. Still burning up.

He slinked out of bed and began packing back and forth, ignoring the head-splitting pain and his increased heart rate. He needed to keep it together. He needed to stay up and stay sober. For Tess.

“Fuck, sweetheart! Feel so good,” he grunted as she fucked him, her thighs pressing him into the couch and her fists clenched around his shirt. He wanted to keep his eyes open, to see how free and beautiful she looked taking him like that. Their world did not offer much room for beauty. He’d found things beautiful on their trips outside the QZ, but rarely allowed himself to appreciate it. But her beauty surrounded him, it was all-consuming and undeniable even in the long-abandoned house that was covered in dust. He couldn’t help but lean in, couldn’t stop himself as he buried his face in her neck and placed tender kisses on her marred skin.

“Joel,” she whimpered, her eyes tightly shut as she took her pleasure from him. His hand wandered all over her back and trembled as it drifted beneath her shirt. He’d never done that before, never touched the bare skin on her back when they were intimate. They never took their clothes off with each other, never gave in to the need to rip everything off of each other to see what hid underneath tattered fabric.

He’d seen her and she’d seen him.

They’d undressed one another, nursed each other’s wounds and bathed each other when they were too weak and beaten up to care for themselves. He knew what she looked like, had seen the freshly bleeding gashes, debrided them, put her back together. She’d see him, the wounds from others and the wounds self-inflicted, not questioning any of them, never asking why he’d attempted to take his own life. He’d seen her in the bullet wounds he’d sewn up as she bit down on his crumpled up shirt to keep herself from screaming too loud.

He’d seen the straight line across under her belly and the light pink streaks that were the only thing she had left of her son and he wished to himself that he’d been the one to bear his child just so he could have something left of his fatherhood other than the festering emptiness in his chest.

They’d seen all of each other, bit by bit, but never all at once. They’d seen each other when in pain but never in pleasure. What they had was built on death and decay. It was ugly yet safe, closed off but the most open they could be with another person.

“Tess, darlin’ please,” he cried as she grinded on his lap, heightening his pleasure. He reached between them and found her clit, using the little gentleness he had left in him to make her feel good. She whimpered his name back to him as she struggled with the pleasure just as he did. He grabbed her hip with one hand and dug his fingers in, hoping that the next time he got to see an inch of her skin it would be bruised from his hand. It would be a kind of symbol, something to show for whatever they had.

They had nothing else to make claims upon each other. There were no rings, no papers from the government to declare that whatever they had was real. They didn’t hold hands, didn’t kiss the other goodbye, but she was his and he was hers, undeniably so.

She tightened around him, her nails digging into him through his shirt and he pulled her close and pressed his lips on hers, drinking in her moans to quench his thirst. A familiar metallic taste filled his mouth as he bit down and drew blood. He pulled back for air and took her face in, took in all the beauty of her in the pleasure that she found in his body. She slumped over him and so he took over the reins and fucked into her, chasing his own pleasure as she whimpered softly in her post-orgasmic exhaustion.

“I love you.”

His heart stopped and he gasped, his mouth falling open in as much pleasure as it did shock. He caught just a glimpse of her pained expression before his eyes closed and his thighs clenched as he chased the high of the only indulgence he’d allowed himself.

“I— I can’t,” he said, his voice thick and shaking from emotion. “Sorry, I—”

It was hell just to see the heartbreak on her face, so he looked away. His lap felt lighter as she removed herself from him, letting him spill out on her thigh and over his cock. But his heart sank under the pressure of the new burden he’d acquired, one he didn’t know he would carry beyond the day she would burn down to the earth and he would run with a kid on whom she would place all her remaining hope. He’d always carry the guilt of not being human enough to remember love, not being man enough to have anything left of himself to give her. Nothing to give but taking everything from carnal pleasure as they fucked to safety when she lied behind him and pressed her chest to his back.

“I don’t know why I…” she said, shuffling awkwardly in front of him once she’d pulled her jeans back on. “Sorry.”

He’d found it deep inside his pocket one day.

Ellie had the habit of leaving bits of paper in her pockets so he’d begun checking them to empty them out before he did their laundry. He checked his pocket too for some reason and he’d found it in the back pocket of jeans he wore on his travel to Jackson. It must’ve taken him so long to find because he rarely ever wore the pair, the wear and tear less of a reason than the fact that he couldn’t squeeze himself into it anymore. Three meals a day everyday did that to a man.

It had survived the trip somehow. All twisted up and elongated, well worn beyond repair but tied together to make a closed loop so that she could put her hair back. Strands of grey and brown hair were tangled up around the elastic and he closed his eyes as he recalled the times they slept with their heads together and her hair tickling his skin to wake him up in the mornings. As he pulled the spare pillow to his chest and imagined it was her.

He couldn’t help but wonder what life would’ve been like had she survived just a little longer. If their luck had stretched out just a little behind those twenty years he spent giving her nothing. He would give her everything now.

She had always been so gentle with him. The world had broken her just as it did him, but she always handled him with care, seeing the light when he couldn’t and holding his hand and leading him through his darkness. Protecting him from himself as he protected her. No matter his cruelty, no matter the void in his chest where a heart once used to be, she was gentle. She stood on the other side of his walls even though she unlocked the door into hers whenever he asked. While Tess had always stood respectfully on the other side of his walls, Ellie had broken in brashly and shaken him up and made him care.

Made him love.

Heart full of love aplenty, he showered Ellie with it all. He gave some to Tommy’s kid, surprised at the lack of resentment for the man who had in this child what he once had in Sarah. He gave little bits and pieces to the food he cooked and the furniture he built and the guitar he played by the fire when Ellie asked for it.

He gave plenty of it to Tommy. He gave it knowing he’d been safe and sound in Jackson all along. Safe and sound and happily married while Tess burnt down believing he didn’t feel the way she felt.

Even in death, she protected him.

He wrapped his hand around the elastic and the strands of her hair and closed his eyes, willing sleep to come just so that he could see her again in his nightmares.

Some nights, he stood by as the fire ate into her skin and consumed her whole. She was always alive for it, speaking his name as he failed her again. Some nights, she asked him why he gave her nothing though she gave him everything. She died every night in multiple ways and he woke up, a grieving man with no term for what he was without her, nothing to legitimize his loss.

On the most cruel nights, she didn’t die.

She didn’t suffer.

The marks on her face and the grays in her hair were all gone and she was in his house in Texas, curled up behind him. She told him she loved him and he was the kind of man who said it back a million times and made her smile. They worked together, she the engineer and he the contractor and she led and he followed. Those nights, she knew Sarah and Sarah knew Tess’s son and they all knew Ellie. Those nights, they were husband and wife, mom and dad, engineer and contractor, man and woman wrapped up together as they waited for the alarm to pry them apart for the working day ahead.

He craved the cruel nights the most, giving all his love to the Tess-shaped delusion he perpetually reached out to, whether his eyes were opened or closed.

He would always reach for the hand that used to wrap around his torso as they slept. He would cook her recipes and taste her favorite dishes and lazily rub the wounds on his body that she’d once tended to. He would lie awake in the dark as he did then and long to give her what she gave him.

He would remember her, Tess Servopolous, all her courage and strength, all her hope and optimism. Until the earth claimed him too, he would luxuriate in all his nightmares where she asked everything of him and he gave freely and where she didn’t have to ask him to feel the way she felt.

Read more of my Pedro Pascal character fics

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ronalddear · 8 months

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ok but what about /once they’re together and comfortable/ the idea of them discussing tiny things that they left unsaid before. talking about the time he kissed her neck for the camera and she liked it a little too much or when she saw him shirtless in the hall on the train but didn’t say anything. when they woke up on the train and her sleep shirt had slipped or when he kissed her mouth that one time after her nightmare.

love the idea of them learning to communicate properly with each other once they grow back together, being able to express whatever they think and feel and also tell each other what they like and dislike.

it’s a little harder for katniss who’s so used to closing up and bottling up her feelings, and i’m sure there would be some roadblocks with peeta as a result of his hijacking but it’s something they’d both get their heads around.

if she were to tell him, rather shyly, that she liked it when he kissed her neck you just know he would do it all the time. same goes for the kissing after a nightmare, which she talks about in the final page of the book (canon, baby!) because it brings her comfort and so becomes part of a routine.

i also think it’s funny to imagine them being brutally honest about things that the other does that bothers them. “katniss, if you put your cold feet on my leg one more time i’m sleeping in the spare bed.” “…you wouldn’t.” and then when he tries to get up to prove his point, she wraps herself around him like 🦥.

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ronalddear · 8 months

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in catching fire, katniss explicitly chooses gale over peeta when she decides to stay in district twelve instead of running off into the woods to escape (cf, 34). katniss clearly frames this as a choice between peeta and gale (cf, 53). and peeta got the message, assuming that this was the final moment where katniss declared her love for gale and abandoned any chance of loving peeta the same way (mj, 280). because katniss obviously chose gale in this moment over her personal safety.

however, from the moment that the quell was announced, katniss chose peeta. from that moment forward, she was determined to sacrifice her life for his (cf, 50). and she chose him even before she started stretching for justifications of how peeta would be more valuable to the rebellion than her (cf, 69). because it was never really about the rebellion. it was only about her love for him.

and this is a huge deal. because by choosing peeta over herself in the quell, katniss is subsequently choosing peeta over everyone in her life. her mother. gale. and… prim. and that is insane in the context of the series.

because when gale suggests plans to katniss, like running away before the reaping (thg, 9), katniss will immediately turn it down because of her responsibility to protect prim (thg, 10). and even when katniss chooses to stay to incite a rebellion with gale, her resolve is shaken when she considers the potential danger it would bring to prim (cf, 35). the only remedy for this is for her to think about how the rebellion would actually protect prim (and other people like her) because it would get rid of the capitol for good (cf, 36). and so prim is always the deciding factor when katniss chooses gale.

that is why it is literally insane that katniss chose peeta in the arena. because she wasn't thinking about prim when she made the decision. or anytime after. and if katniss died, prim would still be just as vulnerable as she was before, maybe even more. because her family would be thrown back into poverty and left without their primary breadwinner. and the reaping would still loom over her every year. but katniss's resolve was never shaken.

and maybe katniss assumed that gale and peeta would take care of her family. but we will never know. because she never thinks about how her family will survive without her. because all she can think about is peeta. from the moment the quell is announced, she is focused solely on his survival, not addressing the elephant in the room.

in fact, when peeta tries to bring up the fact that people like prim need her to survive, katniss actively refuses to acknowledge it, stopping his words with passionate kisses. she understands that she is leaving prim behind without a protector and provider. but, unlike with gale, she doesn't try to work out in her head specifically how choosing peeta will help prim.

so, in a moment of complex selfishness from a typically selfless character, katniss chooses peeta over everyone else in her life that needs her. including prim. because it doesn't matter that they need her. she still chooses peeta.

because she needs him. because she loves him. and because she knows that she would stop living if he died.

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ronalddear · 8 months

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shortly after the parachutes explode, katniss falls into a semi-conscious dream as she imagines herself as cinna's bird. as a bird, katniss frantically flaps her wings to escape something unescapable (mj, 297). because no matter what she does, the ones that she hates are pulling her into the sea (mj, 297).

katniss sees the ones she loves, the dead, flying free above her and she longs to join them (mj, 297). and, seeing that katniss is still trapped by a cruel world, a little white bird comes to her rescue (mj, 298). but katniss, knowing that the bird will be dragged down into the sea of snakes if she holds onto her, yells at the bird to let her go (mj, 298). because the bird is too pure to be sucked into the cruel world. and so, prim lets go of her.

and this scene parallels the first reaping. katniss seeing prim's ducktail sticking out of her skirt (thg, 22; mj, 296). her calling prim's name (thg, 22; mj, 296). prim clinging onto her (thg, 23; mj, 297). katniss yelling for prim to let go (thg, 23; mj, 297). prim finally letting go as katniss faces the cruelty that awaits her. alone.

and as the anthem of mockingjay, "the hanging tree" holds a lot of themes within its stanzas that are often applied to everlark. rightly so. except for the last stanza, where the man wants his lover dead rather than have her face the cruelty that awaits her in the world (mj, 247). in fact, that sounds more like katniss's relationship toward prim in this moment.

because as katniss is forced to face the cruelty of the world, whether that be the hunger games or a post-war panem, she yells for prim to let her go. she yells for prim to go join the dead flying freely in the sky rather than join her (mj, 298). because she doesn't want prim to suffer. and so prim lets her go.

but that is not the case for peeta. and although he is said to have murdered three (thg, 160; mj, 24; mj, 237) and called for his love to flee (thg, 193; mj, 118), katniss's boy with the bread does not fit with the lover in last stanza.

for when katniss screams for him to let go of her when he blocks her attempt to take the nightlock pill, he looks her in the eye and refuses. because he can't (mj, 317). he doesn't care if his hand that grasps her is bitten (mj, 317). he doesn't care if he will be engulfed in the same cruel world that holds katniss prisoner. he will never let her go. his grip will remain steadfast as he readily dives into the snakes surrounding his lover.

because this is the same boy who vowed to always stay with katniss (cf, 46; mj, 267). the same boy that, given an opportunity to abstain, volunteered to follow his lover into the second hunger games (cf, 53). the same boy who refused to let go (mj, 317).

so, in a world where star-crossed lovers who can only find refuge in death is romanticized, suzanne crafted a different story. a story centered on a different type of lovers.

while our star-crossed lovers might have shared a name with romeo and juliet or orpheus and eurydice, their ending was very different.

because they never did tie a necklace of rope to hang side-by-side together (mj, 110). instead, katniss and peeta dealt with the cruel world handed to them. the way they always had. in the games and post-war. together, wrapped in each other’s arms (thg; 298; cf, 21; mj, 329).

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ronalddear · 8 months

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after katniss's almost instinctive decision to save peeta in the quarter quell, she tries to work through many reasons for why she wants to save him. and for the majority of catching fire, she describes many different justifications that all center around other people.

she explains that snow is more likely to allow peeta, crushed and heartbroken, to leave the arena alive than her (cf, 69). and that peeta will be a better mouthpiece for the rebellion, more useful (cf, 69). and she is better off as a martyr (cf, 69).

she even implies that her choice to save peeta over herself is an act of defiance against the capitol. one last act of defiance that will be useful for the rebels after she dies (cf, 69). she emphasizes her own natural selflessness as she focuses on the benefit that peeta living will bring to other people.

yet, when she is faced with the ultimatum of choosing her family or peeta, she confesses her true intentions. that she was really saving him for herself. because her life would become meaningless without him. because she really does love him. because she needs him. and that is why she was actually saving him. not for the rebellion. for her.

and so, if katniss was actually expressing a nuanced selfishness by saving peeta, was peeta entirely selfless in his own intentions? throughout the series, katniss sees peeta (i.e. the love of her life) as the most selfless and kind person in the series.

it isn't even a question to her that he will go into the games again to save her (cf, 50). and she assumes that he feels some sense of accomplishment, even when he is captured by snow, that he was able to get her out of the arena alive (cf, 110).

and, when we look at what peeta actually says are his reasons for keeping katniss alive in the quell, he admits that he will never be happy again if she dies. but then quickly jumps to his main conclusion that katniss needs to live for other people (cf, 100). because they need her. and, in an act of complete selflessness, he gives everything to her and asks her to live for her family (cf, 100).

so, it seems like we can assume that the root of peeta's intentions is selflessness.

yet, when katniss begs for him to let her take the nightlock pill, he seems to have his own 'i need you' confession. because as he explains that he can't, peeta recenters his justification for keeping her alive on his own needs (mj, 317). he points to himself as reasoning to why he can't let her kill herself. it isn't about the people who need her. and the benefit she might bring to a rebellion. it is just about him. that he needs her to live.

and once again, just like katniss, a typically selfless character reveals that their efforts to save their lover's life were also selfish in a way. because they need each other.

and this is not to say that katniss and peeta's decisions to save the other were not rooted in love. rather, the opposite. because what else could it be? what even is pure love if not giving everything to your lover and begging them to live because you know that their death would result in reality's steady descent into a personal hell?

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ronalddear · 8 months

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[ Mockingjay, ch. 25, pg. 351 ]

"Peeta's still in the burn unit. He made it to the City Circle after all."

ONE line. This one line has me clawing at the walls because Peeta managed to follow her all the way. He was with her the whole time, to the point that he was just as injured in the bombs' blast as she was.

I know Katniss is an unreliable narrator BUT I NEED a little more appreciation for our love-drunk-even-when-hijacked idiot Mellark.

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ronalddear · 8 months

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Haymitch does not get enough fucking credit

Reminder that Haymitch was the one who took care of Katniss after the final battle of the Capitol. It was Haymitch who made sure that Katniss ate, and took her medicine and and got sleep and that she wasn't alone. When the guards stop her at Snow's greenhouse, it's Haymitch they consider getting to come help her. It's Haymitch who sits and talks to her about the war or just pointless talk, even though she never responds.

It's Haymitch who does all these things.

Not any of the other adults in her life, not any of the people who put her through all the suffering, not her friends

Not her own fucking mother

No, It was Haymitch.

Haymitch who genuinely cares for her so much, both her and Peeta, and who did all of this weeks ago for Peeta as well, when he was highjacked.

I swear that I'll fight the next person who say that he didn't care about her and Peeta, cause that's simply not true

He poured his heart and soul into those kids, protected them as much as he possibly could in the circumstances he was given

Was he perfect? No

Did he make mistakes? Yes

Did he so anything in his power to try and protect them? Absolutely

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ronalddear · 8 months

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So much of the 'love triangle' (it's actually not that in the books and I will continue to say that with my whole chest) make sense when you consider the ending. When Katniss is talking about Peeta she is talking about her future husband/father of her kids filtered through a 16-17 year old who isn't sure about much of anything. Much less her deep feelings and connections that she is experiencing for the first time.

Of course she is gonna sound immensely biased towards Peeta with no explanation. Minimize bothersome qualities and go all in about what she enjoys about him. It's not a flaw of writing that Collns gave Katniss her own thoughts and opinions about things.

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ronalddear · 8 months

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I feel like the THG fandom often forgets that these characters are literally children, especially when it comes to Gale and Peeta (like, yes they are metaphors but they are also characters).

With Gale, people are way too hard on him given that his navigating his very first serious romantic feelings (that are unfortunately for his best friend since he was 13). And of course, how his anti-Capitol sentiments and general fight (in fight-flight-freeze) disposition developed from having to take on the role of parent to his siblings (and help out his pregnant mother) when he was 13 without ever getting a chance to process his grief for his father's death because his fight to help his family (and Katniss') survive is literally neverending (all while knowing that he too would one day have to work in the same mines that took his father's life).

In the reverse, I feel like the fandom treats Peeta like he's just this perfect angel without considering the fact that he's literally, concurrently, a child abuse victim. That's a lot of why Peeta is so "well behaved" and selfless, and why he reacts so strongly to his attachment to Katniss. And his charm is very likely a tool he's cultivated to help him navigate his dangerous family life.

I've just been reading THG fanfiction for like, 3 months straight at least (this is how I've spent an embarrassing amount of my spare time, legitimately), and this is an observation.

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ronalddear · 8 months

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I don’t know what I’m doing here except thinking about one of my favorite (and possibly under appreciated) moments from Catching Fire…

“May we ask where you’ve been, Miss Everdeen?” the woman asks.

“Easier to ask where I haven’t been,” I say with a sound of exasperation. I cross into the kitchen, forcing myself to use my foot normally even though every step is excruciating. I pass between the Peacekeepers and make it to the table all right. I fling my bag down and turn to Prim, who’s standing stiffly by the hearth. Haymitch and Peeta are there as well, sitting in a pair of matching rockers, playing a game of chess. Were they here by chance or “invited” by the Peacekeepers? Either way, I’m glad to see them.

“So where haven’t you been?” says Haymitch in a bored voice.

Prim nervous-> a natural response to the situation vs. Haymitch and Peeta -> the picture of nonchalance

“Well, I haven’t been talking to the Goat Man about getting Prim’s goat pregnant, because someone gave me completely inaccurate information as to where he lives,” I say to Prim emphatically.

This is so brilliant. Katniss bought the damn goat. Of course she knows where the goat man lives - or at least where he does business. But this excuse gives her a reasonable explanation for being gone AND a reason why she doesn’t have an alibi. If she actually said she saw him, the peacekeepers could check and find out that she lied.

“No, I didn’t,” says Prim. “I told you exactly.”

“You said he lives beside the west entrance to the mine,” I say.

“The east entrance,” Prim corrects me.

“You distinctly said the west, because then I said, ‘Next to the slag heap?’ and you said, ‘Yeah,’ ” I say.

“The slag heap next to the east entrance,” says Prim patiently.

It’s also great because it takes Prim’s mind off the danger of the situation. Instead she’s busy arguing about the correct directions she gave her sister.

“No. When did you say that?” I demand.

“Last night,” Haymitch chimes in.

“It was definitely the east,” adds Peeta. He looks at Haymitch and they laugh. I glare at Peeta and he tries to look contrite. “I’m sorry, but it’s what I’ve been saying. You don’t listen when people talk to you.”

“Bet people told you he didn’t live there today and you didn’t listen again,” says Haymitch.

The strategist and the actor know the best way to get a good performance out of Katniss is to nettle her.

“Shut up, Haymitch,” I say, clearly indicating he’s right.

Being miffed at Haymitch doesn’t even require acting- it’s their natural dynamic

Haymitch and Peeta crack up and Prim allows herself a smile.

They’ve all succeeded in putting Prim at ease (at least a little)

“Fine. Somebody else can arrange to get the stupid goat knocked up,” I say, which makes them laugh more. And I think, This is why they’ve made it this far, Haymitch and Peeta. Nothing throws them.

I look at the Peacekeepers. The man’s smiling but the woman is unconvinced. “What’s in the bag?” she asks sharply.

I would be entertained. It’s a live episode of everyone’s favorite sitcom: The Victors of District 12

I know she’s hoping for game or wild plants. Something that clearly condemns me. I dump the contents on the table. “See for yourself.”

This moment has to be so satisfying for Katniss.

“Oh, good,” says my mother, examining the cloth. “We’re running low on bandages.”

Peeta comes to the table and opens the candy bag. “Ooh, peppermints,” he says, popping one in his mouth.

“They’re mine.” I take a swipe for the bag. He tosses it to Haymitch, who stuffs a fistful of sweets in his mouth before passing the bag to a giggling Prim. “None of you deserves candy!” I say.

I can’t get over how adorable they all are together- even if it just for show.

“What, because we’re right?” Peeta wraps his arms around me. I give a small yelp of pain as my tailbone objects. I try to turn it into a sound of indignation, but I can see in his eyes that he knows I’m hurt. “Okay, Prim said west. I distinctly heard west. And we’re all idiots. How’s that?”

Their wordless communication gets me everytime. The strategy immediately shifts from playful to placating. Get the peacekeepers out of here so Katniss’s wounds can be tended.

“Better,” I say, and accept his kiss. Then I look at the Peacekeepers as if I’m suddenly remembering they’re there. “You have a message for me?”

Oops forgot you were there - what a touch.

“From Head Peacekeeper Thread,” says the woman. “He wanted you to know that the fence surrounding District Twelve will now have electricity twenty-four hours a day.”

“Didn’t it already?” I ask, a little too innocently.

I can just imagine Haymitch growling, “don’t push your luck”

“He thought you might be interested in passing this information on to your cousin,” says the woman.

“Thank you. I’ll tell him. I’m sure we’ll all sleep a little more soundly now that security has addressed that lapse.” I’m pushing things, I know it, but the comment gives me a sense of satisfaction.

She cannot help herself and I am here for it.

The woman’s jaw tightens. None of this has gone as planned, but she has no further orders. She gives me a curt nod and leaves, the man trailing in her wake. When my mother has locked the door behind them, I slump against the table.

“What is it?” says Peeta, holding me steadily.

“Oh, I banged up my left foot. The heel. And my tailbone’s had a bad day, too.” He helps me over to one of the rockers and I lower myself onto the padded cushion.

My mother eases off my boots. “What happened?”

“I slipped and fell,” I say. Four pairs of eyes look at me with disbelief. “On some ice.” But we all know the house must be bugged and it’s not safe to talk openly. Not here, not now.

I know they’re all putting on a performance, but are they really acting? It’s all feels so in character for them to be teasing and laughing with each other. I just like to picture an alternate universe where this scene played out similarly but without the injury and audience

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