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#does victor still play mind games on him
yoongsisbae · 1 year
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Stories by Member
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JJK
Not a Creature was Stirring You wake up Christmas Eve night not to find Santa, but to find a man cold and shivering on your front porch. Clothes tattered, cuts on his body, out in the snow. You find out he’s not as helpless as he appears. Kind of cute, kind of scary, very buff Jungkook Fantasy AU. Spring Day Still with You [Sequel to Not a Creature was Stirring] You ran away from the cold, Jungkook ran with you, warming each other’s hearts. But within the cycle of life, there is death, and as spring blooms, the blood still lays soaked in the dirt. You ran and they chased. Hybrid!Jungkook.
Banana Milk It’s Jungkook’s Birthday, will he get his birthday wish?
The Fantasy You and your boyfriend try out a new form of role play, but it just keeps going wrong…
I Didn’t Mean It, I Still Love You Yoongi made a mistake, will you forgive him? Or is it too late?
Ddak-ji SLAP Jungkook, Seokjin, and you decide to play a game…and then you fu-
Campfire Burning A steamy fic inspired by a certain vlive.
Seven Days a Week Every day, Jungkook shows you his devotion, deeper than the ocean. Seven different scenarios, seven days a week. idol!jungkook x noona!reader
Go Home, You're Drunk! - 75% “Who…are…you…” “Your worst nightmare, sweetheart.” “Really? Because you look like you belong in a boyband.” whacky and dark & for all the girlies who love an unhinged yandere character
The Snap - 70% The only surviving member of BTS, it takes Jungkook five years to find happiness again. And then life snapped back. What is Jungkook going to do now?
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KTH
Christmas with a Vampire There once was a time when holidays were warm and special, Taehyung remembers. To you, even in his coldness, Taehyung is all you need for Christmas. Cyber-punk futuristic AU with a self-hating vampire Tae.
BTS Song Fic (Blue and Grey) Sad song. Sad story. Sad author. Happy reader?
V is for Villain 1 / 2 / 3 - 90% What does it mean to be a villain? What does it really mean to be a vigilante? A vanquisher of evil or a victor for the good? Stories praise the fall of devils, cheer at the marvels of the virtuous, and forget the victorious tell a version conveniently veiling their own atrocities. Evilness was once the brightest star in heaven. And goodness, well, morality can so often be contentious. This time, there is the hero with the strength of a hundred men, there is the villain that can vanish his vulnerabilities in a very instant, and then there’s you. Superclumsysuperhero!RMverse AU.
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PJM
Christmas Mass Every Sunday, like clockwork, as designed and ordained, you sit quietly. Pray. Christmas mass comes, tonight your congregation dresses beautifully, like ornaments placed in a row right in front of God. Your priest, stands at the head like an angel atop the tree, commanding and pious and hauntingly handsome. Red. You’re a good faithful girl. You were taught to be, punished to be. You pray for respite, for something more than the condemnation this cold and icy town bestows upon you. Sinners. The coldness permeates your bones, you’re always scared. Tainted. Terrified of sin, terrified by your thoughts for your priest. Sacrilegious. This Christmas prayers are answered by no God. Demon AU. Dark smut.
You Asked for Help, He Asked Your Name You ran away from your responsibilities, but they caught you and tried to lay claim to your body. If your life was never going to be yours anyways, you decided might as well give it away and make a deal. fairyprince!Jimin
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KNJ
Your Friendly Neighborhood Superhero, RM Best friends 2 Lovers. Idiots 2 Lovers. Lovers 2 Enemies? This is a different kind of superhero story ;) Christmas Lights Out! Agust D vs RM Super Hero Christmas Special! You visit your hometown during the holidays. You and your childhood friend Joon reminisce and you learn more about your smooth tech talker business partner Yoongi. Can he win you over once and for all? Set in Super Clumsy Super Hero RM universe. Extended Scene: The Mind Reader, The Telekinetic and The Closet just silly and raunchy and ridiculous, dirty thoughts...it goes there. V is for Villain 1 / 2 / 3 - 90% What does it mean to be a villain? What does it really mean to be a vigilante? A vanquisher of evil, or a victor for the good? Stories praise the fall of devils, cheer at the marvels of the virtuous, and forget the victorious tell a version conveniently veiling their own atrocities. Evilness was once the brightest star in heaven. And goodness, well, morality can so often be contentious. This time, there is the hero with the strength of a hundred men, there is the villain that can vanish his vulnerabilities in a very instant, and then there’s you.
I Appreciate Your Apology A Christmas party has you on thin ice with your favorite dom. Daddy Joon appreciates your apology, but does he accept it? daddydom!Joon smut, PWP, filth, aka Joon edging you until you see sleighbells.
Cold Feet You don’t want to get married anymore, what does Namjoon want? 
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JHS
Day Dream The days are hotter, the nights are hotter too. You sleep, restless. Tired, you sleep more, you sleep and you dream and you meet the dream walker and things somehow become even steamier. Sandman!Hoseok Dream Analysis / Alternate Ending 
Disco Winter Ball You and your friend Hoseok are best friend buddies going on a date to the annual disco winter ball. But it’s not a date date, okay? You and Hoseok just love music and you love dancing and Hoseok loves watching you dance. Wait not love, not in that way! A friendly love. Just friends. Just two friends who drink a little too much eggnog. HOAL couple holiday special
I Thought You Were Mine? Drunk arguing leads to drunk fuc–
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MYG
The Woman with the Black Cat on Her Shoulder Fearful, they buried them, stomped them into the dirt. Underneath their boot, scared men were unaware the seeds of hope had planted by their own volition. From the dirt and grime, grew flowers, blooms so tall, eclipsing their hatred. You were strong and unwilling to be cut down any more. Shapeshiftercat!yoongi.
Yoongi is a Rock That’s it. That’s the plot. Yoongi is a rock. Audio Ver. by the talented @voice-over-ff
I Didn’t Mean It, I Still Love You Yoongi made a mistake, will you forgive him? Or is it too late? 
Christmas Lights Out! Agust D vs RM Super Hero Christmas Special! You visit your hometown during the holidays. You and your childhood friend Joon reminisce and you learn more about your smooth tech talker business partner Yoongi. Can he win you over once and for all? Set in Super Clumsy Super Hero RM universe.
King of Corruption [Sequel to Christmas Mass] The organ player takes his time with you, holding you and caressing your body while you sleep, until you can’t discern your dreams from your reality. A king and a sleeping beauty, his name leaves your lips like a prayer, prostated at his feet in blind reverence…the perfect position for him to corrupt and defile you. Demon AU. Dark smut.
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KSJ
The Flower Bridge You couldn’t, you didn’t want to, not anymore, the pain was too much, you wanted it to end, so you visited the bridge. Standing at the highest point, the wind stung, but your problems were bigger, your pain was stronger than the whipping air and your anguish deeper than the water below. Tethered in the center, connecting the place you came from and the place you were going, you found another type of bridge and he found you. Ghost!Seokjin.
Meet Cute, Time Loop A story where Seokjin loves you before you love him before he loves you.
Ddak-ji SLAP Jungkook, Seokjin, and you decide to play a game…and then you fu-
Seokjin’s Ho Ho Ho Your boyfriend surprises you with a Christmas dinner on the beach, things get a little steamy, candy canes get sucked, peppermint liquor might be involved, there is definitely some questionable Santa Costume attire, and lots of jolly lovin’! HOAL couple holiday special.
Christmas Lights Out! Agust D vs RM Super Hero Christmas Special! Extended Scene: The Mind Reader, The Telekinetic and The Closet just silly and raunchy and ridiculous, dirty thoughts...it goes there.
Gangnam Girlfriend: Korea’s #1 Celebrity Dating Show with your Host, International Super Star, Jin Welcome to Gangnam Girlfriend! Where Korea’s top eligible singles fight for a chance at love! You're supposed to be playing the dating game right? Not sneaking off in the middle of the night with the show’s host to watch the stars and talk about all your lost love connections, cuddling under a blanket. And even if the choice is clear, Kim Seokjin can't date you, the reason you joined is because you wanted a public relationship, and Jin could neverrr. Even though he wants to finally settle down! But Hybe wouldn't let him join as a contestant so he took the next best thing instead, our story's beloved host, yet now he's regretting his decision as he watches the girl he is starting to fall for fall for someone else, oh no! Meet the Cast / Epi1 - 85%
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OT7
SERIES
Bon Voyage: Into the Sea [Fantasy AU] A storm capsized your boat and looks like you were the only survivor. Somehow you made it to shore, but where? Stranded, you suddenly find out you are not alone, and now you’re stuck in the middle of a centuries old conflict between 7 monsters. Member Imagines /Ch1 / Ch2 / Ch3 / Ch4 /  Ch5 / Ch6 / Ch7 - 5% / ?
Handshakes of a Lifetime [Soulmate AU] …the meeting room is getting closer and closer, basking you and those around you in warm light, and you think about all the internet comments people write about this kind of moment, “she must have saved a country in her past life to experience this.” Playlist / Ch1 / Drabble - JJK / Ch2 / Ch3 / X-mas - JHS / Ch4 / X-mas - KSJ / Ch5 / Ch6 / Ch7 / Ch8 / Ch9 / Ch10 - 10% / ?
Caught! House of Cards [Yandere AU] You needed money. The pandemic offered little options. So you joined a website to make some quick and easy cash. Men paying to look at you, harmless fun, right? It was a decision you didn’t think too much about, you just wanted an income again. Little did you know how dangerous the members of House of Cards were. You weren’t prepared for the consequences of your actions. Watch out! Houses built with cards come tumbling down… Profiles / Ch1 / Ch2 / Ch3 / Ch4 / Xmas Drabble - KTH / Ch5 - 90% / ?
Run Run Run [Zombie Apocalypse AU Slow Burn] A zombie apocalypse breaks out and you’re stuck on a plane with none other than…BTS! Oh, you thought because you were an Army that would help you survive? Girl think again. Member Poll / Seoul Flow / Yangyang Living / Seoul Town Road / Hwarang Freestyle / Seoul Close / Samsung State of Mind - 5% / The Big Hit Break In! - TBA / ?
T H E T A K E O V E R [BTS Apocalypse / Dystopian AU Thriller] The recruits of Bangtan Academy were trained to be super soldiers, to be the strongest, fastest, most cunning fighters in the world. Now they are being put to the test! You were at the bottom of your class, but you noticed the cracks in the system first, what are you going to do? Run or try to save the world Prequel / Ch1 / Ch2 / Ch3 - 78% / ?
DRABBLES
BTS (as kisses) / BTS (as holidays) / BTS (as drinks)
BTS Cheering You Up While Studying Korean
MASTERLISTS
Naughty Girl Christmas BTS X-MAS Masterlist
Spring Fling Fantasy Stories that Bloom Masterlist
BTS Supers RM Verse Masterlist (coming soon…)
Original Masterlist
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jellieland · 1 year
Text
A week or two after the games, Grian will usually check in with the victor.
It's a habit that's probably more for his own benefit than anyone else's. But it is, he thinks, a good habit nonetheless.
After all, as fun as it all is, things can get a bit... intense, towards the end, and it's good for his peace of mind to make sure the last one standing is ok with how things shook out.
Nothing much has ever really come of it before; they're all pretty resilient. He doubts this time’ll be different. Except- well.
Something about it all itches at the back of his mind, and he hasn’t been able to work out why. There was the actual ending, of course, but also Grian may have been whispering in Martyn's ear about how boring that final showdown was turning out to be, and how narratively satisfying it would be if he just betrayed the other two and got it over with, so.
If nothing else, it feels like he's got no reason to break with tradition.
There's just one more concern.
Martyn seems to have made it almost impossible to contact him.
It's not... unheard of, for players to keep to themselves most of the time, especially when it comes to those they don’t share a server with. It seems a little uncharacteristic of Martyn, but the last time Grian saw him outside the games was before they even started, so maybe he does things differently these days.
There are certainly a great many reasons why that could be the case, most of which are perfectly sensible.
But Grian's never been able to resist picking at a puzzle put in front of him, whether the puzzle likes it or not, so he is going to talk to Martyn. And he can just see what happens, and worry about any consequences if and when they appear.
Luckily, he already has a way to do just that.
He doesn't usually need to do this - although it is very funny to startle Scar or Mumbo with it sometimes when they're concentrating. Honestly it's usually less effective than communicators, with how much effort it takes.
But he does have a way. The same way he used to whisper in Martyn's ear very recently, in fact.
He reaches out, away from his home, away from his body, and it feels a little like simultaneously overextending himself, and putting his foot down on a step he thought was flat ground.
That is... not how this usually feels.
It's odd. Rather unnerving.
But it works.
He finds Martyn. Watches the vague shape of him solidify into something more real.
He’s still wearing his red life outfit, for some reason. His eyes are closed. Around his head, the coral curls like a blood-red crown.
“What do you think you're playing at?” Asks Grian.
Martyn blinks his eyes open slowly, looking less confused than Grian would expect for someone hearing a disembodied voice out of nowhere. “Oh good.” He says dryly. “You again.”
He squawks indignantly. “Hey, what's that supposed to mean?”
There is silence for a few seconds.
“...Hey.” Martyn says, and as flippant as he suddenly sounds, he looks as thrown off balance as Grian feels. “Not sure who this is, but I think you might have the wrong number!”
“I think that's unlikely.” He deadpans. “Where are you? I haven't been able to get hold of you.”
“Uh-” There's a short pause as he looks around at wherever he is right now. “Falling into endless nothingness, looks like. Same old, same old, am I right?”
Grian rolls his eyes. “Yeah, ok. Well, I suppose you don't have to tell me.” A part of him makes a note of Martyn’s wording, though. Just in case.
“...Hm. Well, not gonna lie, I do appreciate the change of pace, but I would love to know what exactly you want from me. You know, just on the off chance that you feel like giving me any clues.”
It's at this point that Grian remembers: one of the main reasons this method of communication is good for messing with people is that it makes him sound, um. A little different. And while he can see Martyn, it’s not as if Martyn can see him.
...Best to just pretend that hadn't slipped his mind.
“You do realize this is Grian, right?” He asks, as though it ought to be obvious.
“Riiight, yeah, sure.” Says Martyn. “And I'm also Grian, did you know that?”
“Oh for- what, do you want me to tell you some secret only the two of us would know, or something?”
“Nah.” Says Martyn. “That wouldn't work.”
“Elaborate.” Says Grian, through gritted teeth.
“You know what? I don't think I will!” Replies Martyn brightly.
Grian takes a deep breath in through his nose. “I'm beginning to wonder why I bother.” He grinds out.
Martyn snorts. “Tell me about it.”
There's a short silence.
“But- ok.” He continues. “Just suppose for the sake of argument that you are Grian.”
“...Yes?” Asks Grian warily.
“I have a question for you.”
“...Yeeees?” Asks Grian, even more warily.
The silence stretches for several long moments.
“What's up?” Asks Martyn.
“Yeah ok, this isn’t worth it, I'm leaving now.”
“Wait! No, I'm serious!” Under the amusement, there's a note of something that sounds almost like nervousness in his voice. It's uncharacteristic. Unnerving.
“What are you talking about?” Asks Grian, trying very hard to keep his voice at least mostly free of annoyance.
“Oh, you know! What's going on, what's the deal, what'd you want to talk to me for?” There's a slight hesitation. “You need help or something?”
“I- ok. That's actually sort of relevant. It's really nothing too complicated, Martyn.” He says, grumpily. “All I wanted to do was make sure you're good with what happened at the end of the last game.”
Martyn blinks, and goes very still.
There is a long silence - long enough that Grian starts to feel concerned.
And then Martyn laughs.
It's not a nice laugh.
“Good, huh. You want to know if I’m good with it. That sure is an interesting choice of words.”
“...How so?” He asks, guardedly.
“Grian. Grian, I’m not sure if you remember this, but I won. I won this one, Grian.” Every word he says, however restrained, sounds like it’s had to claw its way out of him. He glares at nothing. “And guess what? It's just like the others. I don’t really care enough for any of it to matter to me, anymore, and that's fine by me.”
Now that's... a lot to unpack. “You- I'm sorry?”
“Well that makes one of us then, doesn't it?” His voice is coated with scorn.
“What are you talking about?”
“Do you actually think I’m going to explain myself to you?” He asks, looking half-amused. “You, of all people?”
“Well unfortunately, Martyn, I can’t exactly put Ren on the line, so I’m afraid I’m all you’re going to get.” He snaps, and instantly regrets it when he sees the look in Martyn’s eyes.
There is a short silence.
Grian shifts uncomfortably. He’s not going to apologize, obviously. But. Well. “That... ok, maybe that was a bit much.” He says.
“...Little bit, yeah.”
There is another silence.
After a while, Martyn speaks.
“I would’ve betrayed him too, you know.” He says coolly.
“What, Ren?”
“Yeah. At the drop of a hat. Soon as it was convenient.”
“I mean sure, I suppose?” Says Grian, caught off guard. “You didn’t, though. Did you? When you had the chance.”
“Eh.” He shrugs, as though that’s an irrelevant detail. “It would’ve been more dramatic later. You know how it is.”
...There's no real way he can justify saying no to that, is there? “Yeah.” He says. “I guess I do.”
He tries to picture the King, betrayed. The Hand, triumphant.
“I dunno, though.” He says, thoughtful. “I don’t think you ever could’ve done it, to be honest. Not in the first one. Whatever it was you were planning, it was just never how that story was going to go.”
“That’s not true.” He says it just slightly too fast. “I know that’s not true.”
Grian scoffs. “You know thinking about something isn’t the same as doing it, right?”
“What, no, really?” He rolls his eyes. “You don’t say!”
“What I’m saying,” He lets his voice turn biting, “Is that you’re being stupid.”
Martyn lets out a startled laugh. It’s surprisingly genuine. “Wow. You’re really bad at this, dude.”
Grian bristles. “Well why am I the one who has to do it then? Why don’t you talk to someone else, if you hate talking to me so much?”
“I mean…” He makes an unconvinced noise. “Obvious problems aside, when do you even expect me to do that? We usually have other things to worry about.”
“I don’t know, maybe at literally any point between the games?” He sighs exasperatedly. “There’s no way you’re that busy.”
“Between the games?” Martyn asks incredulously, and Grian suddenly feels as though something dangerous is hovering over their heads, just about to drop. “What do you mean, between the games?”
“I mean between the games! Like- now! What do you think this is, right now, if it’s not between the games?” He snaps.
“This right now?” He looks nonplussed. “I think we’re usually asleep for most of this bit. Or possibly we forget about it. As you can probably imagine, it’s hard to know for sure.”
“Now I know that’s not true.” He says firmly, ignoring the unease trying to creep up on him. “I know I do stuff between games, and I know I don’t just forget about it. That makes no sense.”
“I mean, I don't necessarily mean everything between the games, more just this specifically.” He gestures around at nothing. “That gets more complicated, though. But you- hm.” He looks curious. “That’s interesting. Where even are you, then, at the moment?”
“I’m at home! Which is where I thought everyone else was too!”
Martyn seems to consider this for a few moments, and then he frowns, and then his expression goes blank. “…Oh.” He says. “Yeah. No, that… makes sense, actually. Yeah. You’re probably right.”
“Wha- what do you mean? Right about what?”
“Everyone probably went home. Or, at least, they thought they did. And hey, what’s the difference, when you get right down to it?”
“...Ok, I’m going to ignore the second part for now, I already got past that little existential crisis after Ren and Doc’s whole… thing… in season eight- if you think everyone went home, why are you- what was it you said- ‘falling into endless nothingness’?”
There’s another pause.
“...You’re really gonna make me say it, huh? That seems cruel, even for you.”
“Wait, no, what do you-”
“Where else do you think I would go?” It sounds less like an admission and more like an accusation. “What ‘home’ do you think I have left, Grian?”
“Look.” Snaps Grian, feeling vaguely tricked. “It’s not my fault that you-”
“Yeah, it never is, is it?” He glares into the darkness. “It’s always a tragic inevitability with you, never a choice you’re making. That way you get to stab people in the back and pretend to be sad about it. Best of both worlds, huh?”
Grian splutters for a few seconds. “Why are you being so rude to me??”
“Because you’re you and I’m me.” He smirks. “Don’t know what you expected, honestly.”
“Oh yeah? Who’s hiding behind inevitability now?” Grian retorts, perhaps a trifle vindictively.
“I never said I wasn’t a hypocrite, sometimes. Also, I never said I felt bad about it.” He replies levelly, and all at once, they’re talking about something else.
“You didn’t need to say it.” Snaps Grian. “You might be good at lying but you’re not perfect. I could see in your face that it hurt.”
He narrows his eyes. “It felt good, actually.”
“Wow, good for you.” He says, almost amused suddenly. “You didn’t say I was wrong, though.”
His expression twists into something unreadable. “I know you, Grian. Like recognizes like.” He says, voice low and dangerous. “You’re a liar.”
Grian shrugs, despite the fact that Martyn will not see it. “And you’re a coward. Your point?”
“I don’t need to justify myself to someone who refuses to admit that he could have chosen to be better, if he’d ever wanted to.” He spits out.
“Hey, at least I don’t try and convince myself I’m a monster just because I want to survive.”
That one strikes something tender; he can tell. “Right, yeah, and you’re just a blameless angel and everyone you cut down had it coming, I’m sure.”
“I didn’t say that. But since you bring it up… how many people did you give up your time for, again?” He grins. “Is it less than one? Because I think it is. I think I’ve got you beat there, Martyn.”
“And where did it get you?” He snarls.
“Home, in the end.”
Martyn flinches back as though he’s been struck.
“Did you forget about that part?” Asks Grian.
There’s a long pause.
Martyn fidgets with the end of the banner he wears around his waist, pulling at where the white threads are coming undone. He stares out into the darkness. “Yeah.” He says. “I guess I did.”
The satisfaction of winning the argument feels less potent, suddenly.
“You’re right.” Says Grian, after a while. “I’m really bad at this.”
Martyn laughs quietly. “To be fair, I’m not exactly helping.”
“You’re really not.”
He sighs. “You know pulling the knife out just makes the wound start bleeding again, don’t you? That’s all we’re doing here. That’s all we’re going to do to each other. We’re too alike to do anything else, unless we just don’t do anything. And hey, we’re not great at that either.”
“Hmm.” Says Grian begrudgingly. “I’d say something about inevitability again, but I honestly don’t think you’re wrong.”
“We both just enjoy pushing buttons too much to be particularly good at not pushing them, I guess.” Martyn sounds half-amused, half-resigned.
Grian makes an irritated noise. “Yes, alright, I don’t need another reminder of the whole button debacle.”
There is more silence.
After a while, Grian speaks again. “There’s something I was wondering about, actually.”
“Oh yeah?” Martyn raises an eyebrow.
“What’s the reason?” He asks.
“You’re gonna have to be more specific with that one, mate.”
“‘This is a death match for a reason.’” He says matter-of-factly. “That’s what you said. So- what is it? What’s the reason?”
Martyn blinks, then lets out a short, harsh laugh. “You think I know that?”
“No, not really. That’s why I wondered what you meant when you said it.”
“It- look. I don’t know if you’re expecting philosophy from me, or something. It’s a death game. People die, and it doesn’t have to mean anything. It doesn’t have to be special, it doesn’t have to be honourable, it doesn’t have to be fair. That’s what I meant.” He frowns. “You know that.”
“I do.” He admits.
“Then why ask?” Martyn looks around as though this time, somehow, he might be able to find Grian’s face in the dark.
He doesn’t.
“I just-” Grian sighs. “What do you want?” He asks. “What do you actually want, Martyn?”
The question sits heavy in the darkness between them.
“What do you want me to say?” Martyn asks. He sounds more tired than Grian’s ever heard him.
“I want you to tell the truth.” Grian says. He needs to know. He needs to know.
“Now, Grian.” Says Martyn, voice gently chiding. “Have you met me? You know I can’t do that.”
“Pretend it’s a lie, then.”
Martyn’s grip on the banner he wears tightens, slightly. There is a long, long silence.
“Or how about,” Says Grian, eventually, “You say something, and I won’t know whether it’s a lie or not.”
There is another pause.
Martyn frowns at the red of the fabric in his hands, as though it might offer him something.
As far as Grian can tell, it does not.
He’s just beginning to give up hope of ever getting an answer when Martyn speaks, so softly he almost doesn’t hear it.
“I want it to be warm again.” He says.
It’s quiet.
For a moment – just a moment, no more – Grian remembers bloody, aching fists. He remembers burning heat.
“Well.” He says. “That makes one of us, then. Doesn’t it?”
“Yeah.” Says Martyn, voice low. “I guess it does.”
There’s another short second of silence before Martyn speaks again, sounding cheerful. “So, suppose I’ll see you in the next one, huh? If that ever happens.” He grins. “Wanna take bets on how hard Scott’ll have to try not to win it? I’m gonna go with very.”
Grian snorts. “I’m not taking that bet. That man is infuriatingly good at surviving.”
“You’re not wrong! You are not wrong.” He gestures into the void. “And don’t even get me started on Timmy’s whole thing, I think we both know how that one’s gonna go. Unless you want to bet against him being gone first next time round?”
“You’re not Scar.” Says Grian. “There’s no way you talk anyone into taking that bet in a million years. Except maybe Timmy.”
“Fair, fair.”
There’s a short pause.
Grian hesitates for a moment before he speaks – almost, but not quite, reluctant. “Why do you keep looking back?” He asks. “There’s nothing left for us there. You know that, right?”
“I mean, let me know when you find a better place to look.” He tilts his head to the side slightly, curious, and frowns. “Do you really never want to go back?”
“No.” Says Grian. “Never.”
Martyn opens his mouth, and then, uncharacteristically, closes it again. “Yeah.” He says. “Me neither.”
Grian is tempted, momentarily, to tell Martyn to take the banner off and let it go. Let the darkness take it. Prove it.
But just like Martyn, he lets it drop.
Mutually assured destruction is a potent thing.
Now all he has to do is the hard part. The part he’s dreading most of all.
The main concern is phrasing it correctly. Making it sound just how he wants it to sound.
After some thought, he thinks he’s found the words he's looking for.
He could always be wrong, though. He’s usually more one for incredible violence than smooth talking.
“Martyn?” He asks cautiously, casually. “Do you want me to help you?”
The expression that crosses Martyn’s face is unreadable.
He processes the question for a few moments, before he answers.
“Nah. I’m good.” He says, voice guarded. “Don’t worry about it.”
And that’s the rub, isn’t it.
Because now Grian has to decide whether he’s going to let Martyn lie to him or not.
Whether he’s going to pass the test that’s been set before him, or not.
...
Grian’s not a monster.
He’s just realistic.
There's nothing he could do, anyway.
“Well.” He says levelly. “Just let me know if that changes.”
(Martyn would do the same to him. It’s not a justification, or an excuse. But he knows it to be true.)
Martyn stares out into the darkness. His eyes are almost, but not quite, resentful. “Sure thing, man. Why wouldn’t I.”
It’s not said like a question, so Grian doesn’t answer it. “Well, you know I can’t stay here forever.”
“I do know that.”
“Any messages you want me to pass on to any of the hermits? I know you haven’t seen Mumbo in a while.” It’s not really a compromise, or a peace offering. Hopefully, however, it’s close enough to one or the other of those to act in their stead.
Martyn closes his eyes. Breathes in. Breathes out. Opens his eyes again. “If you were Grian, then maybe.” His gaze is cold. “But I think this hypothetical has gone on long enough.”
...It’s a lot easier for both of them, if Martyn believes that.
He’s positive Martyn knows that.
Just this once, perhaps he can manage to not look a gift horse in the mouth.
“For what it’s worth,” He says, looking away, “I moved on from the Bad Boys when it got too expensive to keep them alive.”
“It’s not worth a lot.” Says Martyn flatly. “And it would be worth even less coming from Grian.”
Grian sighs. “Alright. Fine. I’ll see you around, Martyn.”
“I know.” Says Martyn. He closes his eyes.
After a few moments, Grian does too.
When he opens them, he’s home.
Oh, that doesn’t feel good.
It really doesn't.
He could dwell on this. It wouldn’t be hard. He could drown himself in guilt over what he’s done, or not done, or will not do.
But- well.
Grian never really saw the point in letting someone else drag you down with them.
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libertyybellls · 4 months
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silver soul !
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pairing; finnick odair x fem reader
summary; you’ve been reaped for the 68th annual games,as you say your goodbyes you realize the ocean is not the only thing you are leaving behind.
contains ; ANGST, sadness, unconfessed loves.
☾⋆。𖦹 °✩
you’re sitting atop the smoothest rock nearing the shoreline, too close to be dry but too far to be soaked. the air is cool despite the season. something somber lays in the air- as if nature can read the silence between you and finnick.
oh, finnick.
you wait for him to speak, for him to say goodbye and let you go. let you move onto your impending doom. but he doesn’t speak- he doesn’t even move. no noise is emitting from him, you’re not even sure you can hear his breathing- the typically obnoxious huffs and puffs he exudes are gone and he remains next to you in these final moments on district 4- refusing to speak.
he’d prayed to any god that would listen for the 68th hunger games to have mercy on you. he wouldn’t give just an arm and a leg for your safety. he would give anything that belonged to him to ensure that you’d return home, back to him, back to whatever you two were in.
he could’ve crumpled to the floor when he’d heard your name called, when nobody had volunteered. why you? why not anyone else? anyone but her.
“i’ll be okay.”
you couldn’t promise that, you knew it was a lie, you’re only 16, you have nothing to depend on getting you through the games.
“i’ll be your mentor. i’ll find you sponsors. let me help you.” finnick pleads, his eyes lowly looking into yours.
it is only then you want to break into pieces in his arms. you want to sob. you want to retreat back to your family, back to his safe presence. he looks so pure with the sparkle of grace in his eye, deeply at variance to the picture that’s been painted to the capitol. his altruistic belief in you when even now, you are certain you won’t make it far in these games, gives you a rush.
you don’t respond to his desperate offers. you only look down to your lap- at your dress playing with the simple garment. you laugh breathily, “what are the odds.”
‘not in my favor’ he selfishly thinks. he may still have a life whether you win or lose this game- but will he be alive? will he have his anchor?
he shames the world, shames the capitol, shames all of the people who sat back and let you walk onto that stage, shames the game makers who would ever let you step foot in that arena. he needs you to be okay. this world is cruel, cruel to do this to his girl.
“please trust me, i will get you out of these games. you will be a victor and we can live in peace, y/n.”
he sins. he lies. he deceives. straight through his teeth. no matter the outcome you will never live in peace once your out of this. you will never be the same girl.
you think back to his own games. though he has yet to directly say his nightly terrors, his daily horrors, the acts he’s committed that he will never say as he looks into your loving eyes. the capitol has not had lenience on this boy, only a boy, but with troubles of a man.
there is no outcome of this predicament that either of you favor. no scenario in which the world grants you the rest you deserve. you want to scream, cry, pour your heart into him. let him fully consume every fiber that holds you together, all the words you’ve never yet said to him lay heavy on your heart. now it is your turn to stay silent, to lose all oxygen in your lungs, let the blood leave your face. but your voice fails you, “i trust you finnick.”
i trust that i am safe with you. i trust that you won’t let me die. i trust that i will make it back to you. i trust you.
he pulls you into him, his cheeks are wet, there’s a lump in his throat but he does not speak. he simply holds your head onto his chest- his fingers lock into yours as if that’s where they were made to lay.
your words continue to lie dormant in the back of your shared minds- but you let the angry waves speak for you. the greying sky share your sadness, the cold drops of water that reach your legs will bring you back to life- rejuvenate your soul ties. this is the peace you’ve been granted- this is all that is fair in your life.
only in this moment will he have you as you are now, in his arms, still so fragile but he holds you intact.
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nebulablakemurphy · 1 year
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Moves & Countermoves (Part 14)
Summary: No one ever wins the games, even fourteen years later, Y/N is still playing.
Prologue | One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve | Thirteen
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Sunlight seeps through the curtains of Y/N and Haymitch’s room at the tribute center. Katniss and Peeta are taken to suit up for the games.
Y/N does not want to leave this bed; she does not want to live this nightmare.
Haymitch startles himself awake with his own snoring. He had too much to drink last night, after Chaff refused his bangle and the alliance.
“No, Haymitch. Give those kids their best chance.”
They fought, then made up; the way brothers do. Still it is Finnick wearing Haymitch’s token into the arena.
Y/N turns over in Haymitch’s arms, resting her head against his chest, lulled by the steady rise and fall.
“I can hear you thinking.”
“Bullshit,” she calls it.
Haymitch huffs a laugh, “it’s true.”
“Fine. What am I thinking?”
He flicks her ear, playfully. “Never said I was a fucking mind reader.” I just know you.
“His leg.” Y/N confesses, “Peeta won’t be able to take the prosthetic off. It hurts when he leaves it on too long.”
Haymitch sighs, “the kid’s strong. He’ll pull through.”
“I won’t be able to live with myself if anything happens to them.”
“You’d be surprised by the things you can live with.” He knows first hand.
Y/N holds her tongue.
“I know it’s not fair and I know that it hurts you.” I hate that it hurts you. I hate that it hurts them. The damn kids that grew on him like warts.
She lifts her head from his chest, staring into those tired, blue eyes. Tracing the furrow between his brows, “it’s not your fault.”
“So you can read minds.”
“No, I just know that you hate yourself.”
At this Haymitch laughs, rumbling out from deep in his chest. “Hate is such a strong word.”
“I love you, Haymitch,” she tells him.
He half smiles, “now that is your own fault.”
————————————————————————
The viewing room is different this year, all sponsors have chosen tributes. The arena theme is unclear but the tropical setting will make for an interesting game.
Finnick will thrive there, which is good news for all of them.
Katniss is visibly shaken when she’s raised onto the pedestal. Peeta is placed strategically on the opposite side of the cornucopia.
“Let the Seventy-Fifth Hunger Games begin. May the odds be ever in your favor. Ten, nine……”
“Something’s wrong.” Y/N covers her mouth with one hand.
“Eight.”
“Cashmere’s right there,” Haymitch points out. “She’s in a good spot.”
“Seven.”
“Brutus.” He’s on the opposite side, not really an enemy, certainly not a friend.
“Six.”
“Well there’s no perfect spot.” Peeta’s got Mags, and Parker. The male tribute from ten, without allegiance to the rebels or the Capitol.
“Five.”
People are going to die in the bloodbath, there’s no way around it.
“Four, three, two, one……” Cannon.
Katniss dives in, swimming toward the rocky pathway which leads to the cornucopia. Brutus comes up about the same time, hot on her trail for a moment, before jumping back into the water.
Gloss is keeping an eye on her as Cashmere reaches the weapons; securing her own, her brother’s and the bow. Gloss trips up, leaving Katniss alone when she finds Cashmere.
“Katniss,” the blonde says, gently. Extending the bow and arrows to her, with the arm sporting Y/N’s gold bracelet.
Katniss eyes the token. This is who Y/N’s chosen, above anyone else. After a moment she nods, accepting the weapon and drawing it quickly.
Gloss joins them, gathering his sword without a word. Prepared to defend them against the other victors. All three turn to Finnick, ready to strike.
“Good thing we’re allies, right?” He also flashes a bangle.
Leaving Katniss too stunned to speak.
“Duck.” Finnick warns, throwing his trident; it lands in district five’s male tribute. Cannon. “Don’t trust two. I’ll take this side, you three hold them off.”
“We need to find Peeta.” Cashmere says, shocking Katniss farther.
“I’m on it.” Finnick disappears, beyond the edge of the cornucopia.
A flicker of dark hair crosses the screen and Haymitch grabs Y/N’s face. Turning her away from the screen and holding her hostage as she bats at his hands.
“What are you doing?” She protests, continuing to push at him.
“Don’t look.”
A scream, the slash and stab. The blood that gushes out in its wake.
“Haymitch, please, who is it?” Y/N is panicking in earnest now.
Cannon. Her body tumbles into the water.
“Seeder.” Haymitch releases her, spared from the image forever ingrained in his mind.
“Mags found Peeta, he’s over here.” Finnick calls.
Peeta is grappling with Parker near his pedestal.
Katniss tries to line up a shot, but it’s impossible with the tangle of limbs. Eventually they both go down, under the water. Finnick dives in to assist but the cannon booms.
“Peeta?”
The viewing room is still, until that blonde head of hair pops out. Panting and disoriented, searching for Katniss. When he finds her there Peeta knows it is worth it. The bloodshed, the fight, the reason to keep on living is right here. “Katniss.”
“Peeta,” the archer reaches for him from the rocks.
Just that morning, Katniss told him she wanted no allies, only him. Luckily something seems to have swayed her. Cashmere, Gloss, Finnick and Mags have joined them. Together they set off into the forest for refuge, taking a moment to breathe about half a mile out.
The cannon sounds, five more times, in quick succession. “Guess we’re not holding hands anymore.” Finnick remarks.
“You think that’s funny?” Katniss sneers.
“Every time that cannon goes off is music to my ears.”
“Finnick,” Cashmere warns, with a shake of her head.
“Let’s keep moving,” Peeta insists.
The forest is deep, vines hanging in all directions. Peeta is at the forefront beside Gloss, hacking down the overgrowth to clear a path.
Katniss spots the shimmering ahead, something not quite right about the edge of her sightline. A forcefield. “Peeta, no!”
He rebounds off the electro current, knocking down the others. His body emitting hints of smoke.
“He’s not breathing.” Katniss cries, turning Peeta onto his back.
“Anybody know CPR?”
“I do,” Finnick takes over.
Katniss keeps a close eye, not sure that she trusts him.
Cashmere touches her back and the girl flinches, “it’s ok, Katniss.”
Haymitch watches intently, he does not turn Y/N away or even attempt to. Come on Finnick. Come on Peeta.
“Come on. Come on, Peeta.”
“Please, Peeta.”
The boy gasps, drawing fresh air into his lungs.
Y/N’s shoulders sag in relief, running a soothing hand over the lively child in her belly.
“Alright,” Haymitch huffs, resting a hand over hers. “Everybody calm down.” As if he himself hadn’t been in a state of unrest. He leans forward, addressing their child directly. “That means you too.”
There it is, the familiar brush of his lips against her stomach. Y/N realizes that she hasn’t felt it as frequently this time around. Perhaps she prevented it, she wasn’t ready and he knew it. She regrets that now.
————————————————————————-
After some investigation Katniss discovers that the arena is a dome.
“We’re safest with our backs protected, I say we set up camp here for the night.” Gloss says, eyes still scanning the area.
“I’ll take first watch,” Finnick volunteers.
“Not a chance,” Katniss grunts out.
“Honey, that thing I did back there for Peeta, that was called saving his life.” Finnick cocks his head to the side. “If I wanted to kill either one of you, I would’ve done it by now.”
“Enough,” Cashmere cuts in, they’re worse than a couple of kids.
“Just for a little bit, let’s get some rest.” Peeta squeezes Katniss’ arm as he passes. Tucking in comfortably, against one of the trees and falling asleep.
Finnick helps Mags get settled. Cashmere and Gloss break off in the opposite corner.
“We’ve gotta get them some water.” Y/N picks at her nails, anxiously.
“You want me to go?” Haymitch offers.
“I’ll go.” Sponsors this year are chomping at the bit to send essentials for their favorite tributes. All seated near the request booth. Y/N paints on a smile as she approaches them.
“Y/N,” a hand reaches out to grab her. “We’ve been waiting to help Katniss and the baby.” The Capitol woman coos.
“That is so kind, thank you.” She jerks her chin towards the desk. “Come with me?”
The woman squeals in delight, nearly leaving behind her pocketbook in haste.
“We’d like to send my tributes water.” Y/N tells the man working the booth.
“How many bottles?”
“Not bottles.” Y/N wracks her brain, “do you have any kind of filtration system?”
“Nothing portable.”
So they can’t use the salt water.
“Is this an arena without any fresh water?”
“There is water.” The man says, giving Y/N nothing to work with.
————————————————————————
Katniss can’t risk sleeping, so she sits up with Finnick as the sky grows dark.
“How’s Peeta?”
“He’s ok, I think.” Katniss croaks out. “Just dehydrated like the rest of us.”
The national anthem rings out over the arena, lighting up the sky with images of the fallen.
Katniss thinks of her mentors then. How many were their friends?
A chime finds their ears as the Horn of Plenty ends. A parachute. Water, Katniss hopes.
She moves for it, splitting open the metal container. No water, just a note and…
“What’s that?” Finnick wonders, looks painful to use.
“From Haymitch and Y/N, I think it’s a spile.”
“A what?” Finnick follows her to the nearest tree, watching as she hammers the sharp end in with a rock. The sound wakes Peeta.
For a moment there is nothing, Katniss slams her fist against the tree. She can survive without food, she’s done it before, but not without water.
“Why isn’t it working?” Y/N is fuming, ready to wring the man’s neck who sent the faulty tool. But then, by some miracle, a steady stream of water begins to flow.
Once everyone has had their fill, those not on watch return to sleeping.
“Well if you’re not going to sleep, I will.” Finnick decides.
“Go ahead,” Katniss nods, prepared to handle it on her own.
The viewing room begins to clear out, supply booths are closed and most sponsors have excused themselves. Y/N and Haymitch take the elevator up to their floor, switching on the projector as they ready for bed.
Cashmere comes to sit beside Katniss, noticing that she keeps dozing off. The blonde says nothing, just offers a soft smile before turning her gaze out to the forest.
Y/N dares to close her own eyes, wrapped up in Haymitch’s arms as he massages the back of her scalp.
“Ahhhhh!”
Y/N turns back to the games. Back to Katniss with blisters on her hand from the thick mist.
Haymitch hisses, “get outta there, sweetheart.”
“Run!” Katniss calls, rousing the rest. “Run! The fog is poison.”
Maybe this is part of Plutarch’s plan, make it believable.
Finnick has Mags on his back, bringing up the rear. Katniss and Peeta are between Gloss and Cashmere, offering whatever protection they can. But the fog is closing in from all sides, leaving no clear path.
Poison hits each of them in turn, Cashmere worse than Gloss, who doubles back for his sister. Peeta worse than Katniss when his foot gets caught on a root.
Finnick wails when the mist finds him. Mags is silent, though the pain is evident on her features, arms coming loose enough to topple them both over.
“Mags, please!” Finnick rushes her back on.
The six of them stumble over each other, fighting to clear the effected area which spans endless.
Peeta is down, unconscious.
“Peeta,” Katniss shakes him, patting at his face. “Peeta, we have to keep moving.”
“Shit,” Haymitch curses.
Y/N paces the small space beside the night stand, tethered by her husband’s hand.
Gloss has Cashmere tucked up under his arm, her skin a tapestry of raised blisters. “We need to get him up.”
Cashmere pants out. “I’m…it’s bad. Save Peeta.”
Finnick and Mags stop to assess the damage.
“Here,” Katniss approaches Cashmere, tossing one arm over her shoulder. “I’ll take her.”
Gloss does not argue, gathering Peeta and dragging him forward.
“We’re almost-”
“Katniss, you have to leave me.” Cashmere insists.
“No,” Katniss cuts her off.
In the end it is Mags who disappears into the fog, allowing Finnick to help the others. The cannon that follows is deafening, paired with Finnick’s agonized scream.
It hits Y/N square in the chest, her knees buckle, sinking back onto the bed. She does not cry. Allowing anger to fill the holes left by the games. It seeps into her blood, familiar and all consuming. Burning hot.
Haymitch can feel the shift, from grief to rage and he does not fault her for it.
Y/N blinks at the screen. “I can’t live with it.”
“I’ll help you.” Take it out on me, if you need to. Just let me make it better…at least let me try.
Part 15
Series Taglist: @praline357 @flowercrowns-goodvibes @justheretoparty420 @avocadotoastwithegg @treehouse-mouse @emo-markie @spilled-mi1k @magical-spit @greaser9902 @jessicamellarky @yourebuckingkiddingme @smuha2004 @sendhelplease @ninimackbrews @wittiestrain184 @r1dd1kulus @erenluvr69 @helpimhyperfixating @jackierose902109 @jellybear455 @dreammgc @dadbodfanatic-x @ftdtcmlovr
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multifanatics · 1 year
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Waiting Out a Storm
A/N: I put nearly everyone in this so I could get a taste of their characters. I nearly fell asleep writing this so hopefully its not horrible.
Warnings: Sexual content, General fluffiness, Anxiety due to storms, There could be more that I didn't think of.
Edward Nygma // Riddler
It’s raining and he’s unable to hear himself think against the loud noise of the wind.
He’s annoyed nonetheless, he can’t get work done in these conditions. 
Makes himself hot chocolate and steals all the blankets in the house. 
If you're nice to him he’ll maybe share one blanket but don’t count on it. 
If the power goes out and there’s nothing to do. 
He’s offering you to warm him up. 
He gets cold and hates being cold. 
He’s miserable and makes it your problem more than it is his.
If you seem nervous or scared because of the storm he may be more accommodating to letting you have blankets. MAYBE. 
One way or another definitely leads to sex.
Victor Fries // Freeze
It’s snowing in Gotham? It’s Christmas for Victor. 
The wind and heavy snow he’ll be outside the entire time.
That is of course if you aren’t at all nervous due to the blizzard. 
If you are that’s alright, He’ll stay inside for you. 
Making sure you are warm enough. 
You both are going to sit on the couch and watch your favorite movie. 
Power goes out? May not be what you want but he’s willing to play chess or any other type of board game with you. 
If you ask him, he may be willing to try and keep you warmer. Even if his body temperature is lower then the current storm. 
Keeps you wrapped up in blankets no matter what. 
His body temperature can handle the negatives but yours can’t or at least shouldn’t. 
Harvey Dent // Two Face
Harvey hates storms, while Harv doesn’t mind them. 
Harvey will cuddle you under piles of blankets clinging to you for warmth. 
While Harv will more than likely be found outside if the coin allows him to be. 
Otherwise Harv is indoors and clung to you in a much different way than Harvey. 
Harv typically has his hands on your hips, chin on your shoulder everywhere you go. 
While Harvey is much more a pile of blankets and cuddles.
Human furnace and knows it. 
Harv would be much more open to fucking for warmth, even offers. 
Harvey strikes me as the kind of man who would build a pillow fort during a storm if you’re both anxious or the power is out. 
While Harv would be fine just falling asleep.  
Jonathan Crane // Scarecrow 
One of the first things you told him was your fear of storms. 
And now he gets to watch how you react.
He does not leave your side during the storm for personal reasons that can range from your warmth to your fear.
Horror movies, blankets, and hot chocolate. 
If the power goes out? Horror stories with a flashlight like they do at camps in October. 
Cuddle him and tell him about your fear he was a psychiatrist after all maybe he can help… or make it much worse by accident, possibly. 
I’m in the middle of him waiting for you to offer sex or he doesn’t enjoy it during a storm. 
I see him as a “No power, no problem.” kind of guy and somehow getting everything he needed done. 
He gets cold and sort of carries around a blanket like a cape. Over his shoulders and occasionally encasing him if he stands still. 
Paranoia is his specialty, don't try to hide it from him, he’ll find out anyway. 
Jervis Tetch // Mad Hatter
Tea party in the dark even if the power is working.
Definitely at least a little bit anxious himself. 
Is against any kind of “more heat” ideas you can think of. 
He has a routine, hiding in blankets and drinking tea in the dark and silence.
Though since you’re there maybe it doesn’t have to be silent. 
Sharing blankets is a must with him, maybe not all cuddly but definitely share your blankets. 
Can be clinging if he’s extra anxious. 
He keeps the power off even if it’s working. He can’t hypnotize the lights to stay on so he rather not have the surprise. 
Super sweet if you are anxious as well. 
Recites his favorite poetry, books, or lines from a movie.  
Joker 
His current hideout has a backup generator so don’t worry about the lights going out
What? If there’s no lights how is he supposed to know if people actually enjoy his jokes? 
He’s nowhere to be seen except you know he’s in the same place as you. 
He takes this time to get more work done. 
If you need him for warmth you can sit on his lap while he works. 
If he doesn’t have anything to get done? He’ll drive you mad with a bunch of different jokes. 
He doesn’t cuddle and he won’t screw around during a storm. 
Gives you blankets then sits next to you.
He doesn’t get cold, maybe a little bit but it’s not something he can’t handle.
If you’re anxious he can always offer a kiss and some jokes. 
Oswald Cobblepot // Penguin
It’s storming? Since when? 
He has to look outside to know it’s storming. 
He’s not at all phased by any type of storm unless he’s caught wind of someone plotting against him. 
You need to voice to him you’re nervous and want him to stay around otherwise he’ll be off working. 
If you voice to him you are anxious he’ll offer to watch a movie or something. 
He’s burying you in the warmest blankets if you say you’re cold and you have goosebumps. 
He’s actually very understanding and not very bothered by you at all. 
It was about time he took a break anyway. 
He has backup generators for backup generators he has power in all ways that matter. 
If you want to screw around he’ll cockwarm but he’s only going to mess around if the mood takes him.  
Harleen Quinzel // Harley Quinn 
She complains. 
She hates the cold but surprisingly doesn't mind storms. 
Harley will cuddle or at least fall asleep on your chest or shoulder.
Will steal your blankets. 
Clingy in a non clingy way. She’ll go up to you and stare at you until you get a clue, if you don’t then she minds her own business. 
Definitely down for messing around, much more teasing. 
She will do whatever the hell you want too.
She’ll talk about the days before she became Harley Quinn, and how much colder the cells are at Arkham. 
If you manage to snuggle up to her she’ll share her blankets. 
She clears all anxiety with her degree. 
Pamley Isley // Poison Ivy
Claims its nature letting go.
LOVES storms and doesn’t mind the cold. 
Checks on her plants during the storm. 
Disregards you unless you pay attention to her.
Say you're cold and she will make the best herbal tea. 
She’s calming your anxiety with talk of which plants grow better in the cold and why they need the cold. 
She understands nature and wants nothing more than to ensure everything she likes is alright. 
She shares her blankets with you. 
Would watch whatever. 
You fall asleep and she’ll leave you a few blankets and go outside to enjoy the storm.
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gayuu-the-necromancer · 2 months
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。⋆。˚🦋˚。⋆。
At Liam's suggestion, I decided to try both Jude and Ellis.
Liam: "In the end, your worry is that they might betray the Crown and sell our information somewhere else, right?"
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Liam: "Then I thought, why not just leave the important documents there and see what happens?"
Harrison: "And where did you leave what?"
Liam: "A list of targets. I purposely dropped in the corridor next to Jude's room."
Harrison: "That's too obvious."
Liam: "What's the point if they don't notice it, right?"
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While they were chatting, Jude enters the dining room.
Liam: "Ah, good morning Jude!"
Glancing at Liam, who greeted warmly with a gorgeous smile that charmed everyone, Jude tossed a paper in front of Liam.
Liam: "Hm? ...Ahh...I was looking for this. Thank you."
Jude: "These are confidential, isn't it?"
Liam: "Yes yes...I was so worried about losing it that I was crying to Harry, asking him what to do. If Victor found out that I had lost it, he would have been furious."
Jude: "Have you ever thought about 'trying to look for it' before crying?"
Liam: "Hahaha, you're right. Still, thanks for finding it for me."
Jude: "......You know, if I exposed this to the outside world, it would have ended both you and the Crown, right?"
Liam: "....!"
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Jude: "Because you cannot trust people who can't keep a secret."
Liam: "Mm....I understand. I'll be careful."
Liam: "Ah...he's gone."
Liam: "What should I do, Harry? Does he hate me now...?"
Harrison: "I don't think so. His attitude is always like that, so don't worry about it."
Liam: "I feel right now, what he meant to say was 'Don't put the Crown at risk' right?"
Harrison: "If that's the case, that doesn't sound too bad."
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Liam: "The fact that not only he picked up the papers but also gave me an advice, increases his credibility, don't you think?"
Harrison: "Well, maybe it was worth all that hate you got."
Liam: "Ahh!!? So you do think he hates me after all----!!!"
...........
That night....
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Ellis: "...Ah, Harrison."
Harrison: "Oh it's you? That's unusual at a time like this."
Ellis: "I thought I'd have something to drink before I go to sleep. Are you working even at this time? You're so dedicated."
Ellis: "Do you want me to make you a sweet cocktail? Liam told me you have sweet tooth."
Without waiting for a reply, Ellis rifled through the shelves and deftly produced Grasshopper was presented to Harrison.
Harrison: "Did you work as a bartender or something....? It's so good."
Ellis: "I'm glad you liked it."
Harrison: ".....Liam is working so hard all the time, it wouldn't be fair if I didn't get dirty too."
Ellis: "Hm? Did you say something?"
Harrison: "No. Nothing...you're pretty handy."
Ellis: "You think?"
Harrison: "And you're kind to everyone since the very beginning. That's the truth for everyone."
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Harrison: "So...I'm a little suspicious of you."
Ellis: ".....?"
Harrison took out a gun from his pocket and placed it on the table.
Harrison: "I've been following you and Jude for the last few days and if I said I wanted to play a game with you, would you mind?"
Ellis: "Game?"
Harrison: "Yeah. The rules are simple."
Harrison: "I didn't put a single bullet in this."
Harrison: "If you take my word for it and pull the trigger 6 times on your own head, you win."
Ellis: "6 times, to the head?"
Harrison: "If you have nothing against us, you can do it right?"
Ellis: ".....Okay, I understand."
Ellis quickly picked up the gun and with no hesitation nimbly pulled the trigger more than 6 times,
Harrison: "Ngh..."
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Ellis: "Looks like I win?"
Harrison: "....Ah..Y-Yeah.."
Ellis: "So, one less thing for you to worry about?"
Harrison: "......Pfft."
Harrison: "You didn't hesitate at all."
Ellis: "Of course. I know that Harrison is kind."
Ellis: "You don't use live ammunition to test people."
Ellis: ".....Right?"
Harrison: "....So you're saying I wasn't able to completely fool you?"
Ellis: "Hmmm.....maybe."
Harrison: "Let me just say, just because you pulled the trigger without hesitation doesn't prove you have nothing to hide."
Ellis: "So, did I make you worry more?"
Harrison: "....Nope."
Harrison: "I'm not so cynical as to continue to doubt someone who trusts me so much."
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Ellis: "....Thank god. Well then, would you like to have another drink?"
Harrison: "Sure, if you're making one."
The green cocktail glasses collided, making a light sound.
And just like that, few days later...
William: "Is the investigation going well?"
Harrison: "Well, things are going well. We've come to most of our conclusions."
Harrison: "I've finished my proofreading work and about to start on with my report."
William: "Oh. Then I guess you wouldn't be needing this info."
Harrison: "What info?"
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William: "I asked Jude and Ellis if they are ready for their first mission, but they rejected saying they had work commitments tonight."
William: "What do you think?"
Elbert: "If it's in the middle of the night....all their business clients would be sleeping. What are they going to do?"
Alphonse: "Aha! Now that's suspicious."
Alphonse: "Honestly I don't care if they are good or bad, but this sounds like fun. So I'll follow them to see what they are up to."
Harrison: "Are you serious right now....?"
Liam: "Actually Harry..."
Harrison: "Mm?"
Liam: "When I was trying to work out their plans, something was odd."
Liam: "I went to the port in the middle of the night....and it seemed like some kind of investigation was going on around the warehouse that Jude was renting."
Roger: "Could be an inspection?"
Liam: "But then there's this rumor....that there a bad guy who's recently been released from prison going in and out of there."
Alphonse: "I think I heard that story somewhere before....I forgot where."
Harrison: "....Okay okay."
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Harrison: "I guess, this will be the final round of investigation."
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Aching Scars
I came across this headcannon that all the TFP bots have some sort of disability or injury that bothers them. As you might expect I felt the need to expand on the thought a little bit. And don't worry, it ain't all doom and gloom, after all I am a sucker for fluff.
Arcee
Arcee, despite her aggressiveness, has managed to avoid serious injury for most of the war, as such her problems lay not in body, but in mind.
She suffers from extreme PTSD from the loss of so many of her partners, it has led her to pull away from others and keep to herself.
Thankfully upon coming to earth and being assigned as Jack's guardian she lightens up again, content in knowing that she has a chance to try again as a protector once more.
She still has bad night terrors and occasionally has mental breakdowns thought, even if she is generally good at hiding it.
When the team do manage to see through her attempts at hiding her condition they do their best to comfort her in little ways.
Bad days usually end with the team watching a movie together, keeping Arcee from focusing too much on her own dark thoughts.
Arcee is particularly fond of romance films, not that she will ever admit it aloud.
Bulkhead
While no bot comes out of a war unscathed mentally, Bulkhead is by far the most mentally stable of the Cybertronian half of the team.
However that does not mean he is in pristine condition. His joints in his knees and knuckles are unfortunately rather stiff and painful from his many long years enduring hostile environments.
He does his work regardless of the pain, he has long since learned to tune it out for the most part.
But on days where the weather is off, his joints end up becoming near unbearable.
He usually plays it off with a joke or two but the team notices and does not hesitate to do something about it.
Optimus puts Bulkhead on groundbridge duty during those days, and the rest of the team ask him to handle minor tasks on the computer in order to keep him off his pedes while not damaging his pride.
Miko almost always ropes Bulkhead into having a spa day with her on such days. He tries to object but succumbs to her pleading in the end.
When the team return from their various missions they don't mention the almost comical sight of Bulkhead resting with pillows over his optics as the bright pink paint on his servo tips dries.
Wheeljack
He isn't one to hang around the team much, but when he does drop by, occasionally his ADHD rears its helm.
On such days he is fidgety, ready for a fight and eager to get into trouble.
In order to keep him from driving Ratchet to commit a murder, the team enact game nights whenever he comes round, even if he isn't having an off day.
Twister, UNO, Video games are the primary activities of the team game nights.
Wheeljack is incredibly competitive and always does a little dance when he wins.
His scrap eating grin when he absolutely demolishes Bulkhead and Bumblebee in racing games oozes with smugness.
His competitiveness has caused more than a few half hearted fights to break out over the true victor in a game, but no one really minds as it allows everyone to blow off steam.
In the end, even if he is a bit much at times, the team wouldn't have it any other way.
After all it wouldn't be the same if there wasn't a fight to break up, or cry of victory to be heard as Wheeljack gets far too into the game for his own good.
Smokescreen
Smokescreen hasn't seen much action due to the relative security of his previous station at Iacon, as such he only has one, thankfully temporary problem.
A few too many hits to the helm and then his stasis locked journey to earth have thrown his recharge cycles out of whack.
While his body readjusts and repairs the damage to his processors he is stuck dealing with the ever present threat of passing out at any moment.
He can usually sense the forced recharge a few minutes before it knocks him out cold and can groundbridge out of a fight before it happens, but around base he tends to not notice the signs before it is too late.
He often passes out while in the middle of an activity, thankfully there is nearly always someone there to catch him and lay him down on the floor somewhere until he comes back online.
The children have capitalized on his random naps and have gone out of their way to 'beautify' poor Smokescreen's armor while he is recharging.
More than once he has woken up with a Sharpe mustache on his face and silly little doodles on his armor.
If Optimus comes by while he is recharging, the Prime always moves him somewhere more comfortable and covers him with a sheet of some sort to tuck him in. (Optimus can't help his fatherly instincts)
Smokescreen loves it.
It still scares the scrap out of Ratchet though when Smokescreen just suddenly collapses on the floor in forced recharge.
Bumblebee
Bumblebee's most obvious injury is his torn out voice box.
Over the years since its loss the pain from the injury has lessened significantly.
It causes him discomfort on occasion but only when he attempts to speak beyond the capacity of his prosthetic voice box.
However after the loss and subsequent restoration of his T-cog, he has new pains to deal with.
Some days the organ will cramp up or freeze, the damage inflicted when it was removed causing transformation to be agonizing or outright fail altogether (thought the latter option has only occurred a handful of times)
On those days Bumblebee struggles a lot with his self esteem. He hates being useless and babied more than anything else. (except perhaps Megatron)
The children will often rope him into playing video games with them to cheer him up.
The rest of the team will play lob ball with him, or if the weather doesn't permit it, they will wrestle or attempt to play human games.
Ratchet may make energon goodies if rations permit it (not that he will ever admit to it) and Optimus will snuggle with Bumblebee later to ensure he feels loved.
Ultra Magnus
Besides his prosthetic servo cramping up and being rather unreliable, Ultra Magnus only has one other noticeable problem (not counting his stiffness)
He suffers from nearly every Anxiety disorder in the book, the horrors of his time on the front lines doing less than stellar things for his mental health
Neither Autobot or Deception were particularly virtuous during the height of the great war.
There were times when Ultra Magnus was forced to commit acts that went directly against his moral code, times when civilians and noncombatants were cut down in order to complete a mission.
It haunts him, it is why he sticks to the rules so closely. He never again wants to be in a situation where he is forced to choose between innocents and the mission.
He has episodes sometimes, generally when he hears about human conflicts and the acts of the Decepticons.
He gets extra clingy with Optimus during those episodes and is far more erratic, getting angry and upset far more easily when missions require conflict.
He stays by Optimus's side throughout his episodes, comforting himself in the presence of the closest bot he has to a brother.
Optimus kindly doesn't comment on it and often sits with Ultra Magnus to discuss trivial things, giving him a sense of normalcy.
Ultra Magnus appreciates it more than he will ever be able to admit to Optimus.
Ratchet
Ratchet is a melting pot of body pains, unmaintained plating, and an unholy mix of Paranoia and OCD.
The mech can't get a good night's recharge if all his tools aren't up to snuff. (You never know when a Decepticon might blow someone's arm off)
And even when he does lay down on his berth with the intent to recharge his protoform starts itching furiously and he remembers everything that could and has gone wrong and...he just... can't sit still.
So he gets up, checks his tools again, wanders around giving every bot in base a once over just to be sure they are still alive, then he goes back to his berth and gets like an hour of recharge time in before he is up doing the whole thing again.
Usually Optimus (an insomniac of the highest order) will help him settle down after around the third time he gets up again.
Some nights though Ratchet can't recharge at all, despite Optimus's best efforts, and he is the worst person to be around the next day.
On those days everyone gives him space, with Wheeljack and Bulkhead taking extra care not to irritate him lest they get a wrench thrown at them.
His aching everything also tends to act up when he doesn't rest, and so some bot will usually bring Ratchet a cube of painkiller laced energon as a peace offering.
It is accepted with slight appreciation.
Optimus Prime
Oh boy. Optimus is likely the worst off out of everyone.
He has injuries from centuries earlier that he still hasn't fully seen to, and he has all sorts of unresolved trauma that he swears he will get around to dealing with eventually when Ratchet prods.
He has all sorts of issues but the most notorious is the depression that loves to make an appearance whenever things get a bit rough.
And let it be known that when Optimus is depressed he gets extra self sacrificial.
Due to his sheer size and how active he is in battles and patrols, Optimus requires far more energon than the other bots in his team.
When rations are tight he tends to skip as many meals as he can get away with without affecting his performance too much. He can't bare to watch him team, no, family suffer from hunger.
Over the years the team, mostly Ratchet and Bumblebee, have learned to notice when Optimus begins skipping out on refueling and have developed methods to get him back into the correct mindset.
Generally if they catch him attempting to avoid meals they will drag him into the main part of the base where everyone hangs out and hand him a cube of energon and tell him to eat it, right there, right at that moment.
No slight of hand is possible for Optimus when the whole base have eyes and optics on him.
He always relents and consumes the given energon with no small amount of guilt.
The team know he feels bad consuming so much energon and so on those days they make sure to give him a few extra compliments (something Smokescreen is more than eager to participate in)
At the end of those bad days Bumblebee will recharge with Optimus in his berth, just to remind him that everything will be alright.
Optimus struggles to hold back a sob whenever Bumblebee utters 'I love you Sire' on those days.
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ephemerasnape · 7 months
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Victor Rookwood Headcanons
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An ever-evolving list of my headcanons for Victor Rookwood. Some of these may seem obvious to you. Some may be controversial. Agree? Disagree? Let's not have any fighting amongst Daddy Rookwood's small-but-dedicated harem, please.
He is in his mid 40s if not older. I don't care what anyone says. I can't have Daddy Rookwood being younger than I am! Even if he is a fictional character from more than a century ago... No, I insist that he's comfortably older. Also, have you seen his face, ffs? Guy's got more lines than a villain monologue. (ETA: We decided he was 46 in 1890. Watch my video "How Old is Victor Rookwood?" for an explanation of our thought process!)
He is probably married with kids. It breaks my heart to say this, really. I do believe it to be the case. Better yet, he might be a widower. I'm going to try to convince myself of that. Don't worry - even if he's actively married, that won't stop him from fucking your brains out. I changed my mind. He is not married. Ain't no rang, ain't no thang. That said, he probably does have some little bastards running around. And he does not give a single fuck.
He is a ladies' man. I am making myself jealous here, but look at the guy and tell me he doesn't indulge.
On that note, he is decidedly-heterosexual. Sorry, lads.
He smokes a pipe. But he'll certainly have a good cigar as well.
His favorite color is purple. Duh.
He is not bald but even if he was he would still be one fine-ass bitch. The hat is hot and stays on during sex. (Some of you seem to think that Daddy wears a hat to make up for some deficiency in his hairline. I think that daddy wears the hat because it's imposing, stylish, and attractive. We are not the same.) Regarding the hairstyle, it would be a typical and respectable gentleman's hairstyle for the time period.
He only shaves about once a week, on an off-day. He keeps the raggedy facial hair on purpose. Thinks it adds to his roguish charm (it does!)
He isn't hands-on about the whole killing animals thing. He knows what his people do, and finds it distasteful, but sees it as a necessary evil. He values wealth and power above all else, including furry creatures. But he may even be known to stroke a cat from time to time while drinking firewhisky at the Hog's Head.
He considers Harlow a useful idiot, and lets him be the one to get his hands dirty. For the most part.
He didn't mean to curse Anne. He isn't even sure of what exactly he did - he just panicked. But no, he's not too troubled about it. (Clarification: he should have killed her, not whatever it was he ended up doing.)
He despises playing second-fiddle to Ranrok, but he knows that whatever the goblin is after is too important to sit on the sidelines for.
He reads the Daily Prophet every morning.
He is not above taking what he wants sexually, but he prefers to seduce.
Sexually-dominant. Period.
He wears expensive cologne.
Definitely a Slytherin.
Oh and he's not dead :)
Anyone who's listened to my audios or read any of my fics knows he loves terms of endearment, namely: darling, little one, little girl, sweetheart, little witch, et cetera. He loves to use these while doing unspeakable things to you. 🥵🥵🥵
He does not appreciate "sloppy seconds." This is well-established in several of my audios.
He lives in a hotel - the most expensive one, probably.
He takes advantage of his employees.
He wears a belt. The belt is not visible in the game, but for our purposes, he needs a fucking belt. The belt is soooo important.
Believes "Might is Right."
Young Victor was extremely brutal when he took over the Rookwood Gang, kind of overdoing it in order to earn the respect and fear of his men. Over the ensuing decades, as he has become more comfortable in his position, he has mellowed out slightly. He will no longer gauge someone's eye out over a few missing galleons, but he still takes perceived transgressions against him very seriously.
Daddy needs glasses. I got this idea from my DR chatbot but it makes sense. He missed the easy shot at Ranrok because he couldn't fucking see. Of course he is not going to wear glasses in public - that would be a sign of weakness. But I can totally imagine him sitting at his desk, pouring over papers with a pair of glasses firmly on his face. Period-correct, of course.
The legal name of the Rookwood Gang is the "Rookwood Group." Everyone knows it's a gang but daddy rubs elbows with a lot of important people and needs to keep up appearances.
The harem has determined that Victor's date of birth is November 14th, 1844 (Scorpio Sun/Capricorn Moon).
The man keeps everything he needs inside his hat. Pipe, glasses, Flora Cohen's scalp made into a coin purse, machine gun, spare hat in case the main one gets a fleck of dirt on it, little black book full of Ministry contacts, et cetera.
Daddy suffers from back pain due to a lifetime of being duckfooted (sadly, this is canon).
Victor is average height for a man. In the area of 5'10".
Victor A. Rookwood (Augustus?)
Yea, he killed dear old dad.
Listens to Wagner.
That's it for now. Will add more as I think of things.
If you have any questions you want answered, feel free to submit them to @victor-rookwood ("Ask Victor Rookwood")
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clarinartiste · 3 months
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Character analysis: the gargoyles as a reflection of Quasimodo
[This is based on the interpretation that the gargoyles are Quasimodo’s imaginary friends, and that their traits can give us some insight into Quasimodo and his own mind and personality]
Part Two: Hugo
Of the three gargoyles, Hugo is the most fun-loving. At the beginning, when Quasimodo looks out at the city below, Hugo says “Hey Quasi! What’s goin’ on? A fight? A flogging?” As we see later during Quasimodo’s humiliation during the Festival of Fools and Phoebus and Quasimodo in the gallows in the Court of Miracles scene, many of the Parisians derive pleasure from public displays of mockery, torment, degradation, and death. And it’s a reflection of history too, a lot of medieval people viewed these kinds of things as sources of entertainment for them.
Being as sensitive and caring as he is, Quasimodo most likely would NOT enjoy those kinds of public executions or displays of torture—in fact, I imagine they would disturb and horrify him. I think that Hugo saying this line is more of a generalization of what the people of Paris find entertaining, rather than what Quasi himself does.
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However, what Quasimodo does find entertaining is the Festival of Fools. It’s a joyous celebration with bright colors, confetti, drinking, and merrymaking. Hugo enthusiastically says, “All right, all right! Pour the wine and cut the cheese!” Victor mentions, “Watching the Festival of Fools has always been the highlight of the year for Quasimodo,” and Laverne emphasizes Quasimodo’s long-standing desire to join the festivities, saying, “What good is watching a party if you never get to go?”
Quasimodo deeply craves fun. He clearly wants to be part of this celebration—to seek that kind of freedom and enjoyment with the Parisians. During the part where the gargoyles encourage Quasimodo to join the festival, they come up with different reasons that he should attend. Being his imaginary friends, I interpret this as Quasimodo trying to overcome his own doubts. Hugo juggles the wooden figures and exclaims that there will be “Wine, women, and song!” and “Bobbin’ for snails!” He says “Playin’ dunk the monk!” while dunking Victor with a bucket of water. It shows a cheeky, playful sort of attitude towards religious authority figures like monks, and it also reminds me of Clopin’s line “It’s the day we mock the prig and shock the priest” with his Frollo puppet.
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(side note: I also wanted to bring up the part at the beginning where Victor chastises Hugo, “That’s what you get for sleeping with your mouth open” and Hugo sarcastically retorts, “Heheh… go scare a nun.” Also, encouraging Quasimodo to go to the festival, he quips, “No, the Pope. Of course, you!” while putting the wooden figure of a clergyman into Quasimodo’s mouth. This might be a bit of a stretch, but I read that Victor Hugo’s original book has some anti-clerical elements, as he felt disillusioned with the institution of the church at the time he was writing it.
Religion can be a very beautiful, inspiring, and wonderful thing. But unfortunately, some people will weaponize faith for their own personal ambitions, and corruption in churches and other religious institutions is a real issue. Perhaps Hugo the gargoyle lightly poking fun at these clerical figures is a subtle nod to that same concept in the book? After all, in this movie, Quasimodo is raised by a cruel man who claims that the horrific crimes he commits are all in the name of God. Even though Frollo is a judge and not an archdeacon in this adaptation, I feel like the point still stands)
Anyway, back to Hugo and his antics. He loves to have fun, acting unabashedly goofy and outrageous. He plays card games (“I’m losin’ to a bird!”) he crushes on Djali, and he messily eats food and smokes a sausage. Hugo is never afraid to get silly, which is especially prominent during “A Guy Like You.” Using things to imitate curly hair, getting dizzy and seeing double, dangling wooden figures in the gallows (some dark humor), acting as a barber and giving Quasi an over-the-top wig, grinning suavely while pretending to be the head of the muscular statue, getting his horns stuck, and dressing up like Esmeralda.
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(look at Quasimodo’s amused smile here :)
Throughout the song, Hugo calls Quasimodo “kid” a lot as a reassuring, affectionate term, and he tries his best to hype him up and make him feel good. Quasimodo and the gargoyles bounce on a cloth like a trampoline, again showing Quasimodo’s strong desire to have fun.
Going back to the point about the Festival of Fools, and Quasimodo being fun-loving, it makes sense why he would want to join. The boisterous revelry, bright colors, singing, dancing, and hedonistic nature of the festival must be incredibly appealing for someone like him. Being isolated in the bell tower for twenty years has really taken a toll on him. His upbringing under Frollo is very strict and ascetic—the alphabet lesson emphasizing sin (abomination, blasphemy, contrition, damnation, eternal damnation)
When Quasimodo absentmindedly says “festival,” he betrays his true desires, and Frollo quickly notices. Realizing his slip-up, Quasimodo becomes more anxious and stutters, “F…f-forgiveness.” But Frollo sees right through him, and he presses, “You said… festival.”
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With a look of regret and worry in his eyes, Quasimodo covers his face with his hands. He unsuccessfully tries to reason with Frollo, who swiftly and sternly shuts him down.
Hugo is loud and unapologetic—and, deep down, I think that this is what Quasimodo wishes he could be to Frollo. But Frollo has been an imposing figure to him all his life, and he does not feel like he can stand up to him (until the film’s climax)
I also wanted to point out Quasimodo’s internal resentment towards Frollo. At their lunch, when Frollo asks, “Shall we review your alphabet today?” Quasimodo looks down and mutters, “Oh…yes, Master, I would like that very much.” His tone has a very subtle bite of sarcasm, hinting at his bitterness. But Frollo doesn’t pick up on it, and he continues speaking to Quasimodo as normal. In fact, I don’t think it occurs to Frollo to even consider that Quasimodo is being snarky here.
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In the grape scene, when Frollo realizes that Quasimodo helped Esmeralda escape, he loses his temper and thunders, “You idiot! That wasn’t kindness, it was cunning!” He violently grabs Quasimodo by the tunic, shaking him and yelling “Think, boy! Think of your mother!” Then, after calming down and clearing his throat, he says, “But what chance could a poor, misshapen child like you have against her heathen treachery…”
With his condescending attitude, Frollo consistently underestimates Quasimodo’s intelligence. He treats him as though he is lesser—and, fundamentally, I don’t think he really sees Quasimodo as a person. Frollo believes that Quasimodo is incapable of thinking for himself, and so he imposes his own beliefs on him. In “Out There,” he sings, “I who keep you, teach you, feed you, dress you” while holding Quasimodo’s face, demanding that Quasimodo be grateful towards him. Ultimately, Frollo assumes that Quasimodo isn’t capable of free thought or free will. And, in his own cruel and twisted sense of self-righteousness, he sees himself as a “savior” to someone he perceives as below him, devaluing Quasimodo because of his physical deformity.
And, VERY understandably, Quasimodo resents Frollo for this. Even if he does not outwardly show it much, he has been accumulating a sense of bitterness for all the years that Frollo has mistreated him. I believe that Hugo is representative of Quasimodo’s desire to disobey Frollo. When encouraging him to go to the festival, he says with a mischievous smile, “Who says ya gotta ask? You sneak out… and ya sneak back in.”
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“You could wear a disguise! Just this once. What Frollo doesn’t know can’t hurt ya.” Suggesting that Quasimodo not tell Frollo about his escapade, he encourages him to assert his independence.
Later, in the dialogue leading up to “A Guy Like You,” Hugo holds a deck of cards and says, “If I know Esmeralda, she’s three steps ahead of Frollo and ask out of harm’s way.” He holds up a three of hearts when he says the word “three,” and flips it. When he says “Frollo,” he holds up the joker card.
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The implication here being that Frollo is a joker, a buffoon, a fool. It’s a subtle and impudent jab at him that suggests that while Quasimodo might fear Frollo for how controlling and cruel he is, he doesn’t entirely respect him as a figure of authority. Through his imaginary friend Hugo, Quasimodo lightly makes fun of Frollo as a way to “get back” at him, coping with how horrible he is.
I also wanted to explore how Hugo reflects Quasimodo’s feeling towards Phoebus. After Quasimodo forces Phoebus to leave the cathedral, Hugo congratulates Quasi and says, “The nerve of him! Snoopin’ around here, trying to steal your girl!” and “Way to go, lover boy!”
He really encourages Quasimodo and raises his hopes of being with Esmeralda. Later, when talking about Esmeralda, Victor says, “Knights in shining armor certainly aren’t her type”—alluding to Phoebus—and Hugo adds, “And those guys are a dime a dozen! But you, you’re one of a kind.”
In “A Guy Like You,” he constantly references how Quasimodo is unique. He sings, “A guy like you, she’s never known, kid” and “You’ve got a look, that’s all your own, kid.” Hugo also tries to elevate Quasimodo’s self-esteem by comparing him to other guys (read: Phoebus). He knocks around wooden figurines hanging from ropes, singing,
“Those other guys that she could dangle / All look the same from every boring point of view!” (also, this might be kind of a stretch, but the figures being blonde and having shoulder-length hair might be a little reference to Phoebus too haha)
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Hugo positively affirms again to Quasimodo, “You’re a surprise from every angle / Mon Dieu above, she’s gotta love a guy like you” (side note: I love the ringing of the bells on that second line, something about it sounds so sweet :)
Immediately after the song, Esmeralda brings an injured Phoebus to the bell tower and she asks Quasimodo to hide him. The kiss scene happens, and Quasimodo quietly cries, broken-hearted. But he still helps hide Phoebus, and after the grape scene with Frollo, Quasimodo expresses doubt about himself, bitterly saying, “She already has her knight in shining armor, and it’s not me.”
But his compassion wins over—he cares about Esmeralda so much that it overpowers his resentment towards Phoebus. Of course, he still feels really hurt after seeing Esmeralda and Phoebus kiss, and so he acts bitter and quarrelsome around Phoebus. I really appreciate this because I think it makes Quasimodo more real and believable as a character. Yes, he is a very sweet and sensitive person, but he’s also capable of being jealous and petty, and I feel like that contrast makes him really interesting.
Phoebus pats Quasimodo’s back and asks, “Truce?” After hesitating, Quasimodo says, “Well… okay,” with a forceful pat on Phoebus’ back (right where the arrow struck him)
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Phoebus grimaces in pain, and as they head off to follow the map, Quasimodo utters a simple “sorry.” Phoebus grumbles, “No you’re not.” It’s a funny exchange, and another example of Quasimodo being bitter. Like I said before—although he is an overall kind and gentle person, he also has moments of spite, and I think these add some wonderful nuance to his character.
In conclusion, as an imaginary friend, Hugo reflects Quasimodo’s sense of humor, his fun-loving nature, his desire for independence, and his potential for irreverence. While Quasimodo is overall a very loving and gentle person, he also harbors resentful feelings towards Frollo, and a grudge against Phoebus (the latter fading away as the two develop a stronger trust and friendship :)
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archiveikemen · 11 months
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'Black Wedding' Story Event: Chapter 1
William's Route
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I do not own any of the Ikemen Series content being uploaded on this blog, everything belongs to CYBIRD. Please support them by playing their games and buying stories. Not 100% accurate, expect mistakes.
read this before interacting with my posts
On a peaceful early afternoon, long fingers danced across the black and white keys on the piano.
(... It sounds so beautiful. I love listening to Will play the piano.)
While I was captivated by the beautiful tune, my lover, the King of Self-Righteousness, spoke in a way that sounded like he was singing along to the tunes he played on the piano.
William: Kate, why don’t you marry me?
Kate: …
(Me and William. Married?)
The words that came from those shapely lips were so sudden that my words caught in my throat.
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William: Oya, did I just get rejected?
Kate: T—
Kate: That’s not what I mean!
William: Hmm?
Kate: I was just surprised by how sudden it was…
(I think my heart nearly stopped beating…)
I placed my hand over my heart that was still going crazy, William looked at me and laughed.
William: Then we’ll wait till you’ve calmed down from the surprise.
(Getting married to William.)
I felt like I had been misled by those words that came out of his mouth…
(William loves freedom, I can’t believe he proposed the idea of marriage…)
Kate: Is there a reason for why you said that all of a sudden?
William: You’re as smart as ever.
William: While conducting investigations with Victor, we got some information on an organisation named “Amour”.
William: They’re based in a church, and claim to be able to “make love last for eternity”...
William: There have been several cases where the couples who approached that church in search of eternal love never returned.
Kate: … They never returned? Could it be…
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William: It’s not that they never returned, but rather they can’t. They've probably been killed.
(What the…)
William: The killer is the head of the organisation, the Founder.
Kate: Why would he take those innocent lives…?
William: I wonder…?
(William definitely knows why.)
He shrugged his shoulders and didn't say a thing, the look in his eyes told me “if you want to know, find out for yourself”.
(Of course… that’s the plan.)
Will smiled in response to that implicit murmur and narrowed his eyes.
Kate: Whatever his reason may be, it’s Crown’s duty to condemn evil with evil, so that there won't be any more victims.
Kate: And as a fairytale writer… it’s my duty to write that down in the records.
William: Yes. That’s my lovely little robin.
His smile was so charming and uplifting.
(Whenever he looks at me like this, I feel like I can accomplish anything.)
He was the only person in this world who could make me feel that way.
Kate: So what does us getting married have to do with punishing Amour for their sins?
William: Amour holds weddings as the ceremony to grant couples eternal love.
William: And it appears that the Founder, who is the root of the problem, will only show himself then.
William: He’s so thorough in hiding, it’s clear that he has a guilty conscience.
Kate: So you're saying that we’ll infiltrate the organisation and have our “wedding”...
Kate: Then lure the Founder out?
William: That’s right. … Hearing the details might change your mind.
Kate: Huh…?
Will narrowed his eyes and twirled my hair around his finger.
William: The kiss of oath might turn into a bloodbath.
William: If having an upright wedding is your dream, it’s still not too late to turn back.
Will smiled while offering me an escape route.
(In the past, the message he’s trying to convey would’ve really been “you can do as you please”.)
(But now, perhaps…)
(He just wants to hear me tell him myself what I want.)
This selfish king with red eyes enjoyed loving my desires.
Kate: Of course I won’t turn back. I want to have that wedding ceremony with you.
Kate: Even if we get drenched in blood… that would be wonderful because it’d be a kiss of oath to never forget.
Will smiled happily and kissed the locks of hair he was fidgeting with.
William: … Then it’s decided.
While getting myself ready for our mission, I smiled as I thought back to what happened earlier.
(I never expected to ever hear Will ask me “will you marry me?”)
The thought of having a wedding ceremony was making me nervous, even though it was a pretend one.
And then it hit me.
(This… this is the first time I’ve been conscious about the possibility of marrying Will.)
I loved him so much that I was willing to give him my everything, both my body and soul.
(Maybe it’s because we’ve had many much more important things to be concerned about?)
He was destined to be destroyed one day.
As someone who loved him, I was bound to be consumed by that fate as long as I stayed by his side.
I was desperate to accept that reality, love each other, and remain by his side until the day I died.
(But what if we were to have a real wedding…?)
A wedding was a sacred ceremony for a couple to vow their love to each other.
For us, who have chosen to live in the darkness — who and what do we vow to?
Kate: … This church is beautiful…
The organisation was based in a church located outside of London.
The air of tranquillity made it feel as if it was a painting.
(I can’t believe people are being killed here…)
William: A dangerous organisation that reeks of blood, and having a pretend wedding with a villain…
William: … A rather pervasive situation you’re in. How are you feeling?
Kate: Honestly, I’m feeling nervous… but I’m also a little excited.
Kate: Of course, I’ll be careful not to put you in danger.
William: Fufu, my knight is still going strong today.
Kate: Kya…
He put his arm around my waist and pulled me to him like we were in a dance.
William: Like this, let’s show off to our hearts content.
Kate: Show off… show what off?
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William: That we’re in love with each other.
William: Oh, I didn't tell you? Not everyone can hold their wedding here.
William: The followers of Amour have to acknowledge that we “truly love each other”.
William: We can’t just have a wedding.
Kate: So does that mean… our mission is a failure if we don't get acknowledged as lovers?
Will gave me an affirmative smile.
Kate: Then… we should flirt as much as we want… right?
(Flirting in front of others… that’s kind of embarrassing.)
(It’s to be able to spend time with Will while on a mission.)
William: Just do what you always do.
William: There won’t be any problems as long as you keep showing how adorable you are with your bright red whenever I hug you like this, Kate.
Kate: …!?
Will gave me a quick peck and let go of me.
William: Let’s go.
Kate: A-Alright…
(Will my heart… survive till the end of this mission?)
Cultist: Thank you very much for coming to our church.
Upon arriving at the chapel, we were greeted by several cultists dressed in white.
At first glance, they appeared good-hearted because of their calm smiles.
(But… all of their eyes aren't smiling. It looks as if their smiles are plastered onto their faces.)
According to Will, the main culprit who was doing the killings was the Founder.
Here, the Founder’s orders were absolute, and the cultists seemed to be blindly following them.
Cultist: So the two of you are looking to hold your wedding here.
William: Yes. I want to take her freedom away, so that my adorable lover can never fly away from me ever.
William winked.
My heart pounded hard upon hearing those words that William would never say, even if he really considered that.
(You're saying that sort of thing in this situation whereby there's no telling what’s true or false… that's not fair.)
Kate: I… I want to devote my entire life to him.
Kate: And… I want all of his “love”.
(What I just said is the truth, Will.)
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William: …
As I spoke while looking into Will’s eyes, I saw his gaze grow passionate.
(Ah…)
It wasn’t an act, that gaze expressed his genuine love for me.
William: You should be more selfish, my bride.
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Last of my Hunger Games reread thoughts! Lets Gooo!
I have a whole other level of love and appreisation for any of these little times Katniss says she does something with Peeta for herself. Like, knowing what's coming it feels like gold. All the way through to the end of the book.
Katniss and Peeta have been a shocklingly amazing team from the first moments on the train but here, as they are wrapping up thier days in the arena it shows that fact off. They work so well in tandem. They have skills, know one anothers skills and work with that together and I love it.
The presious moment of calm between Katniss and Peeta. DAWW.
Collins and her narrative build up skill? Like when we see all the tributes going the more you realize just how very real the show down with Cato is gonna be. It feels like this showoff was set up from the beginning...cause shock! It was and Collins has been planning to pay it off.
I rememberd how human the dog mutts were, but not to what extent. They were planning, coordinating and even seemingly speaking at some points. It's horrific.
Cato's death is also horrific. Like he suffered for a whole night, just being eaten almost alive. As cruel as he's been Collins puts his humanity in your face in his speech holding Peeta and how the mutts attacking him is desribed.
SO this arch of Katniss sort of...realizeing who the enemy is comes together with the moment of mercy for Cato. She doesn't want him dead, despite haveing those thoughts the whole time. But she sees he is a boy, lied to and hurt by the Capitol just like her and she ends his suffering because that vengence is gone. That seeing him as an enemy is gone. And thats slowly been revealed to her since Rues death. The Capitol Is the one causeing all of this, not even the better off tributes like the Careers.
Another thing I didn't recall was just how COLD the gamemakers made this last night. Katniss and Peeta are shareing body heat and are still cold stiff.
Changing the rules a second time could not have been a worse choice. It almost invites an act like the berries. It shows how much they NEED a single victor. That they need things the way they want it and are willing to bend for it.
So the berries. I think it's so significant that Katniss says she's never really leave the arena if Peeta dies, and that she'll alway be here trying to find her way out. The implications of this level of greif is NOT a small one. Katniss is saying she'd die here with him, even if her body lived should Peeta die. And honestly that makes the stunt with the berries
Peeta and Katniss's conversation before the berries was actually painful. They love one another so much I can't-
Katniss being unable to leave Peeta and thinking he dies is also hits like a train. Collins doesn't run out of ways to express fear, loss and greif. It is just as in your face every time. Mind you, this is before Katniss is told she needs to convince anyone of their love, and after they made it out of the arena. There is NO acting here, no fakeness. This panic at watching Peeta possibly be lost to her is 100% genuine.
Love how Katniss almost speeds us through the end of the game interviews and recap stuff...she is just as uninterested in it as me quite frankly. Instead focusing on trying to play things as safely as she can.
And the most painful part. The reveal to Peeta of Katniss's uncerteinly. Katniss is walking this line of confusion. Wanting and careing for Peeta but being unsure where the line is between that and what the Capitol wants is. But the last words of the book being her missing and dreading letting him go.
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aemiron-main · 11 months
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Henry’s In A Tank: Stranger Things vs The Evil Within (2017)
So, I talked in this post and this post about Elder Brains, and today, I want to talk about The Evil Within, Ruvik, and the STEM system.
Long story short, I think that Henry is in another NINA tank somewhere, since Edward Creel is Vecna, and we don’t know where Henry is, and since Henry seems weirdly present during NINA.
Henward vs Ruben vs Ruvik and The Creels vs The Victorianos
I’m going to talk about Ruben/Ruvik in general in a little bit, but first, let’s just take a look at the initial, most obvious parallels.
Ruben/Ruvik as an adult vs Vecna/vs Burnt Henward:
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Ruben as a child vs Henward as a child:
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And if you still don’t believe me that this parallel is intentional, look at this official concept art for Vecna:
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That’s definitely inspired by Ruvik. Ruvik even does the same damn hand thing that Henward and El do:
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Now, let’s get into Ruvik’s backstory, and then get into the story of the rest of the game and how it ties to ST, and why I think Henry’s in a NINA tank.
So, as a child, Ruvik was isolated and “weird,” but very close to his sister, and also a child prodigy. He came from the wealthy Victoriano family, with a religious father (much like Victor), and a mother that he wasn’t close to. Ruben was doing science experiments as a child, and when he was still a child he met a doctor, Dr Jimenez, who assured Ruben that he also did similar science experiments, and that it didn’t make Ruben a monster. Even just initially here, this is already extremely similar to Henry having already known Brenner (talking about “the very doctor I had hoped to escape,” recognizing Brenner immediately by his face after waking up in the lab), and we also have the “monster,” imagery that is constant with El, Brenner, and Henward.
Then, one day, Ruben and his sister were playing in a barn when some disgruntled townsfolk lit the barn on fire. His sister died saving him, and Ruben was left burnt and disfigured, much like Henward in the yellow UD.
Although Ruben survived the fire, Ruben’s father faked Ruben’s death, and led Ruben’s mother to believe that Ruben died in the fire when in reality, he was imprisoned in the basement, and then later at Beacon Mental Hospital. This is SO similar to what happened with Henry- his death was faked (and Virginia likely involved), and then Victor was led to believe that Henry was dead when in reality, he was at HNL, with the mother vs father thing swapped for Henry vs Ruben.
Ruben, much like Henward is frequently associated with spiders. During the game, the player sees a fucked up fleshflayer-esque spider version of Ruvik’s sister. It’s a common motif for him, just like it is for Henward.
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When the game begins, the player plays as Sebastian Castellanos, years after the Victoriano fire/Ruvik’s disfigurement (which we’ll come back to later in the STEM system section) but you don’t need to know much about him for this analysis, just that he’s the player character.
We end up at Beacon Mental Hospital, which takes us to the next section of this analysis.
Beacon Mental Hospital vs HNL and Pennhurst
So, Pennhurst and Beacon Mental Hospital look EXTREMELY similar:
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At the beginning of the game, the player/Sebastian ends up at Beacon Mental Hospital, pursuing Ruvik. As the game progresses, we learn that the characters aren’t in the real Beacon Mental Hospital at all anymore- instead, they’re part of the STEM system/the version of Beacon Mental Hospital that exists in Ruvik’s mindscape/memories, as Ruvik is part of the STEM system, and the player character is hooked up to a STEM system tank, which we'll get into later, linking their mind to Ruvik's.
The whole "not in the real Beacon Mental Hospital" thing reminds me of the fact that the area of the lab that we see during NINA is COMPLETELY different from the lab we’ve seen in other seasons, and we’ve never seen the NINA area outside of NINA, and we have two different rainbow rooms, too, and the lab and Pennhurst are paralleled all the time, both being likened to prisons, both having orderlies in white uniforms, both experimenting on their patients, etc etc.
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The STEM System vs NINA vs Elder Brain Tanks
So, the STEM system is basically multiplayer NINA (although, as is the point of this analysis, I think that NINA is also multiplayer).
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Now, going back to the Victoriano fire and Ruben’s disfigurement and the death of his sister and Ruben’s father faking Ruben’s death. Prior to the player character entering Beacon Mental Hospital, Ruben escaped the basement, killed his parents, and became “Ruvik,” and went to work at Beacon Mental Hospital with Dr Jimenez.
Dr Jimenez would betray Ruben, however, and teamed up with the company, MOBIUS, to have Ruben captured, restrained, and forced to become a test subject, just like Brenner kidnapping Henward forcing Henward to be a test subject at HNL.
Ruvik was the first test subject for the STEM system project, and he was hooked up to multiple machines, and his body was experimented on until there was nothing left of him except for a brain, which became part of the STEM system. Ruvik, although just a brain in the real world, had a physical form in his own mindscape, and spent decades trying to find a way to escape his imprisonment. (again, VERY similar to 001/Henward trying to find a way out of the lab.)
Before Ruvik was killed/left as just a brain, though, MOBIUS attempted to sync his brain with Leslie’s- Leslie was a quiet boy, very similar to Ruben, and Leslie reminds me a lot of both Will and El, and was also a test subject at Beacon Mental Hospital.
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Ruvik and Leslie’s brains were synced in the STEM system because they had shared trauma- both had lost their families in a violent manner.
I’m staring DIRECTLY at Murray talking about “shared trauma” in ST. Murray even ties "shared trauma" to "your dad," just like the shared Brenner trauma between El and Henward.
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So, I’m also staring DIRECTLY at Henward and El during NINA and syncing their brains, and the shared trauma of Brenner/growing up in the lab, especially with all the talk of “you’re like me/we’re the same/papa hurt you," and how they have shared trauma and shared memories.
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Unfortunately, Leslie’s brain was unstable (much like NINA glitching for EL), and that’s what resulted in Ruben being killed/stripped down to his brain, as Ruben wanted to proceed with the use of Leslie, but MOBIUS did not.
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Decades later, Ruvik somehow managed to manifest himself in the real world briefly, and committed a massacre at the real-life Beacon Mental Hospital (which is why Sebastian was at the hospital in the first place, investigating the murders). Ruvik was searching for Leslie when he committed the massacre. It reminds me a lot of a.) Henward seemingly committing the massacre to try and get El out of the lab and b.) Vecna searching for Will.
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Now, let’s look at the STEM system vs NINA vs Elder Brain tanks:
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And when we jump to DND and look at Elder Brain tanks, how do those work? What do they do? Well, an Elder Brain (which resides in an Elder Brain Tank) is a hivemind- it’s what controls Mindflayers. And it’s also known as a living library, which has me staring DIRECTLY at the library in ST. Elder Brain tanks are typically kept in caves beneath cities, much like the NINA bunker, but I’m also looking at the basement of the library in ST as some sort of connection, especially since the library basement specifically was brought to our attention & tied to the Creels when Robin and Nancy went down to the basement to look for newspaper information about Victor & the Creel murders.
And interestingly enough, the fleshflayer from S3 also resembles the STEM system- which makes sense, since the fleshflayer is basically a hivemind/combined minds, just like the STEM system.
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Also, the STEM tanks are literal bathtubs- bathtubs that are eerily similar to the Creel tub, and need I remind you that the sensory deprivation tanks in the lab are referred to as “the bath” by Brenner and El? And the fact that the S1 episode with the NINA-shaped, round pool in the school gym that El uses as a sensory deprivation tank is called “the bathtub”?
Like, it's the SAME sort of clawfoot tub.
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Mirror Imagery
So, in order to save the game in The Evil Within, you have to find a mirror, which takes to to the safe zone of Beacon Mental Hospital. Mirror imagery is constant in this game, and I'm staring DIRECTLY at Henward talking about how he held a mirror up to his family & the mirror in the rainbow room during NINA.
Music
If you’re STILL not convinced that these parallels are intentional, I want to draw your attention to a certain song that plays in Pennhurst:
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Clair de Lune. This song is CONSTANT in The Evil Within (which, need I remind you, takes place in an asylum JUST like Pennhurst), it’s the main song for the game, and is always associated with mirrors (which are extremely associated with Henward in ST), and specifically, are associated with the “safe zones” in the game, which, again, are accessed via mirrors, and the whole “music is safe/saves you” thing is VERY ST4. Clair de Lune is not just a song that happens to play once in the background of The Evil Within- instead, it’s THE song for it, you absolutely cannot miss it.
Dream Imagery
So, every subject that’s connected to the STEM system has some level of subconscious, “dreamlike” influence over it, and throughout the game, the whole experience of the STEM system is described as being like a dream/nightmare, except it's alive and can kill you because you're hooked up to the STEM system. (staring at all of the nightmare imagery with Henward, and Victor's "a nightmare far worse" vs Henward waking up in the lab vs El waking up in NINA, and Victor talking about a "waking, living nightmare" vs NINA basically being a waking, living nightmare)
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We also have El talking about a shared “dream circle,” with Terry vs all of the dream imagery with Henry (Dream a Little Dream of Me etc), and the circular shape of the NINA tank. I think El and Henry were both likely present during NINA/connected mentally, like a STEM system, like an Elder Brain tank, and like a dream circle.
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El talks about the dream circle "repeating," JUST like the repeating scenes during NINA.
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Conclusion
But yeah! Like I’ve talked about before, I won’t be surprised if Henry has been in a NINA tank this whole time, which would explain why he seems so weirdly present during NINA sometimes- because he IS present. Just like how Terry was present in the dream circle and how Ruvik is present in STEM.
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In chapter 23 of Catching Fire, Katniss says this when she looks at the other victors showcasing their district-inspired skills/talents:
Of course. Johanna Mason. District 7. Lumber. I bet she's been tossing around axes since she could toddle. It's like Finnick with his trident. Or Beetee with his wire. Rue with her knowledge of plants. I realize it's just another disadvantage the District 12 tributes have faced over the years. We don't go down in the mines until we're eighteen. It looks like most of the other tributes learn something about their trades early on. There are things you do in a mine that could come in handy in the Games. Wielding a pick. Blowing things up. Give you an edge. The way my hunting did. But we learn them too late.
It made me think of Gale. Of course, Katniss and Finnick realise they're all still playing the games in Mockingjay as the rebellion continues to fire up. And it's interesting that Gale does in fact end up playing in the games and using his skills he probably learned in the mines ("blowing things up") for causing irreparable damage to so many lives. When given the opportunity, "outside" of the games, he doesn't choose the path of empathy and kindness. He chooses destruction. And I think that's a big difference between him and Peeta/Katniss/even Finnick. And a big reason why Katniss cannot move past who she sees him become. At every opportunity, Gale is moved to vengeance and destruction, like his suggestions in district 2. Never mind love, but I think Mockingjay showed her the vast divide between them in their approach to the rebellion and human life, and their friendship was always doomed in a way.
When Gale finally got to take part in the games, he took part in it actively, and in a way that showed he put violence and vengeance above his humanity.
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stardewremixed · 1 year
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Thanksgiving headcanon
Alex - the perfect day to toss the gridball around with all his cousins. Wrestling in the leaves. Grass stains. Turkey legs. Crisp fall air. Grandma's famous pumpkin pie.
Abigail - gets up at the crack of dawn to watch the Thanksgiving Day parade. Still is giddy over the floats. Loves the musical renditions. Wishes she could be there in person.
Elliott - a little unusual for Thanksgiving but cranberry sauce and stuffed lobster is his go-to dish. A walk on the beach contemplating what he is thankful for. Bringing apple cobbler to Leah. Don't worry. Willy made it.
Emily - knits socks for everyone she knows with little fall leaves. Makes everyone wear "I am Grateful" tee shirts. Rolls her own dough for apple pie.
Harvey- a hot meal, a day off, a good book, a cup of coffee, plaid house Slippers.
Haley - planning her route for Black Friday shopping. Renting a car so she doesn't have to take the bus. Eww. Leaving Thanksgiving night and staying at a hotel near her mall destination in Zuzu. Checking her list twice to make sure she doesn't forget gifts for anyone.
Claire - a day off from Joja. Sleeps till 1pm. Microwaves some turkey and stuffing. Plops down to watch the dog show.
Olivia - all about presentation. Cornocopia centerpiece. Fall mums on the porch. Perfect magazine masterpiece dinner made by private chef. Candles everywhere.
Magnus - what day is it? A little dazed from staying up late the night before reading ancient tomes. Thankful he isn't invited to Thanksgiving dinner at Marnie's.
Shane - turkey is okay. Chicken? Never! Spends the morning tossing chicken feed, playing tag with Jas, snuggling Charlie.
Leah - a healthy tofurky dinner, fresh cranberry salad, gluten-free rolls, cauliflower rice. Painting on the porch on the crisp autumn afternoon.
Maru - making leaf piles in the yard with sebastian, jumping in them and making a mess, reading a manual about how to operate the oven, taking a plate of hot foods over to Linus.
Lance - traveling again. Enjoys a turkey pot pie at the train station. Thankful for a healthy mind and body. Does a little weight training when he arrives home.
Sam - joins Maru in jumping in leaf piles, games online with Seb until bored, avoids all chores his mom asks him to do, challenging Vincent to a chubby bunny contest with marshmallows and annoys his mom, eats a second dinner at Abigail's because mushroom stuffing isn't his fave.
Penny - strolling JojaMart wondering if she has enough gold to buy ingredients. Wondering why Morris keeps trying to push the green bean special. Manages to make do with what she has on hand at the trailer. Hot turkey sandwiches, instant mashed potatoes, and canned cranberries. Pumpkin cookies were also on sale.
Sebastian - a day of online gaming with friends (getting annoyed at his sister's and Sam's leaf pile mess, laughing and joining the fun), and inevitably writing his Christmas wish list because his mom will be begging for it.
Victor - visiting his bio dad overseas. They don't celebrate Thanksgiving. Running through McD's for a pumpkin shake. Something to remind him of home. He's grateful for the time spent with his father.
Sophia - picking the perfect holiday wine. Making butternut squash soup and cranberry brioche. Spending too much time looking at catalogues, wishing she had more money for presents this year. Doing some house cleaning since she has the time.
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nebulablakemurphy · 1 year
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Moves & Countermoves (Part 7)
Summary: No one ever wins the games, even fourteen years later, Y/N is still playing.
Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6
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“What’d you think? Should we climb it?” Tyson asks his district partner, teasingly.
She is two years his junior, still not an idiot. The giant pile of sand funneling in from the top of the arena is no hiking expedition. “No, we should save our strength, like Haymitch said.”
“Did you know the tallest mountain in the world was called Mount Everest? Before the founding of our great nation?” He presses on, largely ignoring Y/N’s sage advice.
“What do they call it now?” She wonders.
“Trick question; tallest mountain in the world was actually Mauna Kea.”
“Now’s a bad time for trivia.” Y/N decides, a hand at her brow to shield the blazing sun.
“It’s the only time we’ve got.”
Y/N startles awake, as she always does from dreams of him. Dreams of a stranger, who in under two weeks became her best friend. The games are funny that way, time moves differently there. People who standby you in the arena become closer than people you’ve known for years. The ones that haunt you forever.
She thinks of him often. Though Y/N never had a brother, she decided a long time ago, that is where Tyson fit. How he taunted and teased her, protected and loved her, all at the same time. And when she named her son Everest, sealing the tiniest drop of Tyson in her blood, Y/N found some peace with it. Giving new life to the boy who died so that she might live.
When she hears Peeta recounting the day he fell in love with Katniss, her heart sinks. The gamemakers won’t let them both win. They can’t. President Snow simply won’t allow it. And if what they’re saying now is true, even if one of them survives…
“There’s backstory,” Haymitch muses.
Maybe he believes Seneca would do it, two victors. Or maybe he just wants her to believe that he believes. One thing about Haymitch is that he will lie, either straight up or simply omit key details to shield Y/N. Protect her at any cost, as if she were some fragile thing.
She used to hate it, until she understood. Not fragile; precious. Something more valuable than money, or secrets, even booze. If anything happened to Y/N, his world would simply stop turning. The sun would set and never rise. She is a precious commodity of extremely limited supply. She could never be replaced.
“You need medicine for that leg.” Katniss changes the topic of conversation.
“I don’t get many parachutes.” Peeta admits, though he doesn’t tell her why.
“We’ll figure something out.”
“Like what?”
“Something.” Katniss huffs, into the dimly lit cave.
“I think that was the green light on the meds for Peeta.” It’s go time. Haymitch rises from the bench, offering his hand.
This particular offering will not come cheap, it’s time for the original lovers of district twelve to do what they do best. Work an angle.
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“What do you mean we can’t send medicine? We’ve always been able to send medicine.”
“Not my rules, Mrs. Abernathy.” The woman behind the counter says.
“Of course not, you just work here.” Haymitch smiles.
The Capitol employee returns the gesture.
“We’ve been raising this money all day and Y/N is obviously upset that we can’t go through with sending the medicine, but we understand. Is there any information you could give us to help put our minds at ease about the condition of our tribute?”
The woman looks to Y/N now. District twelve tributes rarely make it this far and everyone is quite taken with the young lovers. Against her better judgment, she motions for Y/N to lean down toward her. “There will be an opportunity for your tribute to receive medicine tomorrow.”
“Is there anything we can send today?” Y/N asks.
“You can send soup.”
“Soup.” Haymitch repeats, with false enthusiasm. “We’ll send them soup.”
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“Attention tributes, commencing at dawn, there will be a feast of sorts, at the cornucopia. Each of you need something desperately and we plan to be…generous hosts.”
“And that is why we couldn’t send medicine,” Haymitch laughs, staring down at the contents of his cup.
They’re trying to wrap this up, everyone’s off in different directions. Bring them back together for one hell of a show before curtain fall.
“Five needs food. Thresh just got bread so…maybe weapons? Two needs…armor? I don’t-” Y/N presses a finger against her temple, desperate for answers.
“You feeling ok?” Haymitch’s brow furrows.
“Yes,” Y/N bites out.
Her husband reels back. It is not uncommon for Y/N to mourn tributes, even ones that aren’t theirs. It is unlike her to take it out on him.
“Sorry, I’m sorry.” Y/N apologizes, immediately. Taking one of his hands in hers.
Haymitch turns his gaze to their twined fingers, she’s shaking, “when’s the last time you ate something?”
“Not hungry.”
“You need to eat,” he decides.
“Nothing tastes right.”
“Listen angel, if they’re gonna poison you, it won’t be here.”
“I must be coming down with something.” Or the stress. Despite all of this, she’s never faired well under duress.
“Probably why you puked in that lady’s ice bucket.” Haymitch notes.
“You know what does sound halfway decent?”
“Hmm?”
“Those little cream puffs with powdered sugar on top.”
Haymitch grins, “I’ll bring a plate.”
He hovers after that. Y/N can’t stand hovering, but she tolerates it. Understanding that it comes from a place of love. She didn’t mean to worry him.
Haymitch can’t sleep. Even after Y/N is out cold.
“I love you so much, Haymitch.”
She who brushes wayward hair from his eyes and runs her nose along the length of his, after the sweetest of kisses. She who believes in him and shows him each day there is a reason his life did not end in the arena. She is the best person he has ever known and he’ll spend the rest of his life trying to deserve her. To deserve that selfless, all consuming, love that she gives so freely.
“I love you forever.” Maybe even longer.
In that, at least he knows there is no cause for concern. Their marriage will not crumble, come hell or high water. Haymitch knows how badly she misses home, their children. In another life he’d ask for ten, as many as Y/N would give him.
The tiny garden, around the back of their house in victor’s village; where Everest plants carrots and other vegetables. Where Arista steals them to feed the wandering geese. The most taciturn, temperamental, creatures she can find are naturally the ones she chooses to care for.
Y/N’s syringes come like clockwork from the Capitol, every three months. Squandering any hope of tiny baby feet. Though she is the best mother, one who plays with her daughter and son, down in the dirt. A mother who loves her children more than anything.
Their lives there are a safe haven, one that exists only in their minds. There is no room for a place like that here. No safety for the children they’ve given life to. Only false hope and broken promises.
And if by some misfortune or Capitol ‘miracle’ a child should slip through, Haymitch would love them. Somehow, someway they’d all make it through. But he hopes, more than anything, that it is not now.
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There is no rush to the viewing room the next morning, everything the tributes need will be at the cornucopia. Katniss gets close to the bag marked ‘12’ and the girl from two is on her. Knocking her back with those damn knives.
They grapple around for a while, before landing with Clove on top. Leaving Katniss no room for escape as she holds the blade to her throat. Haymitch is seated on the bed, watching Y/N pace along the large screen in their bedroom.
Thankfully the boy from eleven takes out one of the two remaining careers. Overhearing her taunt Katniss and brag about killing his district partner.
“Just this time, twelve.” Thresh tells her, gathering his bag from the table. “For Rue.”
With that they’re off; Thresh back to solitude and Katniss to Peeta.
He’s still asleep when she arrives, waking only to the sound of her voice. “I got it. I got your medicine.”
“What happened to you?” Peeta’s eyes focus on the gash across her forehead, courtesy of Clove.
“I’m fine.” Katniss busies herself with opening the canister.
“No you’re not,” Peeta reaches up, “what happened?”
“The girl from two, she threw a knife.”
“You shouldn’t have gone, you said you weren’t gonna go.”
“You got worse.” She replies, simply. Spreading the salve over the length of his wound.
Peeta allows a small cry to pass his lips, grabbing at her wrist. “You need some of that too.”
“I’m ok.” Katniss is more worried about him.
“That feels so much better.” He sighs. “Now you need some too.”
“I’m ok.”
“No, come on. You need it too.”
“Alright.” Katniss finally agrees. Watching Peeta’s tender expression as he thumbs the cream over her injury.
When they wake to the computer generated sunrise and find their cuts have healed, the star crossed lovers set off in search of food.
Peeta to the left, foraging berries while Katniss goes to hunt. Though the separation is not ideal, his heavy footsteps would send any potential prey running. The archer is ready to score them some breakfast when the cannon sounds.
It’s for the girl from five. But Katniss doesn’t know that, so she sets off in search of Peeta.
This time, Y/N and Haymitch are down in the viewing room, overhearing the chatter around them.
“Those berries must be poisonous.”
“I hope Katniss finds him in time.”
Katniss calls out for Peeta again, colliding into him a moment later as Peeta rushes toward the sound of her voice. His fist still closed around a handful of blue berries.
“What happened? Are you ok?” Peeta wonders, holding her tightly as she trembles.
“I heard the cannon. I thought you were dead.”
The boy rests his chin against her shoulder, “I’m right here.”
Katniss pulls back to scold him, smacking the berries from his hand. “That’s nightlock, Peeta. You’d be dead in a minute!”
“I didn’t know,” he stammers.
“Scared me half to death, damn you.” Then she is hugging him again. She can’t explain it, the need to feel him close, know that he is safe.
“I’m sorry.” Peeta breathes, soothing her with a gentle hand, down the length of her back. “I’m sorry.”
When they have settled enough to keep moving, they make the discovery of the red head’s body. Her mouth stained magenta and a few berries still in hand, eyes wide and open.
“I never even knew she was following me.”
“She’s clever.” Katniss always thought so.
“Too clever.”
Katniss leans down, collecting the berries from her hand.
“What are you doing?”
“Maybe Cato likes berries too.”
It’s only half past noon when the sun sets, quickly and without warning.
“Must be in a hurry to end it.” Katniss reasons.
Y/N’s leg is bouncing faster now, vibrating almost.
Haymitch reaches out a hand, resting it atop her thigh to still it.
They wait there, in uncomfortable silence, until the sound of mutts causes Y/N to jump. Even Haymitch flinches when the animals appear, like something out of a nightmare, bits of the fallen tributes mixed in.
They take Thresh, tearing him to pieces and Y/N doesn’t fight when Haymitch wraps her up in his arms. Making a place for herself in his lap, legs dangling over the side of his, not caring if she is heavy. He of course, doesn’t mind, pressing a kiss to the underside her jaw.
Cato is waiting at the top of the cornucopia. When Peeta and Katniss inevitably end up there, the three of them have it out. With Cato’s arm around Peeta’s neck, Katniss is left with no good choices. If she shoots the career’s hand where Peeta is pointing and she misses… But if she doesn’t shoot, he’ll kill Peeta anyway. She takes a deep breath and lets the arrow fly.
Cato’s death is a quick one, a mercy he may not have shown with roles reversed. But it is over, leaving just the tributes from district twelve. Gone is the shadow of night, the sun returning to illuminate the finale.
“Attention, tributes, attention, there’s been a slight rule change.”
Katniss draws her bow, fearing that they are somehow not alone.
Haymitch shifts, bracing himself.
“The previous revision allowing two victors from the same district has been…revoked. Only one may be crowned. Good luck and may the odds be ever in your favor.”
Katniss and Peeta turn back to one another.
“Go ahead.” Peeta insists, “one of us should go home. One of us has to die, they have to have their victor.”
“No,” Katniss tosses her weapon down, stepping over it to close the space between them. “They don’t. Why should they?” She pulls the nightlock from her pocket.
“No,” Peeta covers her hand with his own.
“Trust me.” Katniss whispers, “trust me.”
And Peeta does, accepting the berries into his palm.
Haymitch lets out a breath, patting the outside of Y/N’s thigh, affectionately. “You did it.” He murmurs, “there’s your victors.” Even though it isn’t fair, even though there will be nothing to show for it. They won.
Y/N leans farther into his embrace. Wishing more than anything for the chance to tell Peeta that she is proud and to tell Katniss…
“Together?” The boys asks.
“Together,” Katniss repeats.
“Ok. One.” Peeta runs his fingertips down the length of her braid.
“Two.”
“Three.”
Together they raise the poison toward their lips.
“Stop.” A voice rings through the arena, “stop! Ladies and gentlemen, may I present the winners of the seventy-fourth annual Hunger Games.”
For this, the four of them will surely be punished.
Part 8
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katnissmellarkkk · 7 months
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Alright girls, I got a request a bit ago for some Katniss / Mrs. Everdeen content and as I’ve never written their relationship before I wasn’t sure if I liked it at first! But I’ve finally gotten around to actually editing it so I hope it’s good and it feels in character and y’all like it! I don’t know if I’ll write a oneshot focused on their relationship again but this was actually pretty fun! I hope y’all who read it have a blessed day and enjoy yourselves 🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵
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summary : katniss and her mother bond a few days after she comes home from the games. set between the hunger games and catching fire 💕.
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I’m never getting used to nightmares.
It’s been two days since the cameras left and I’ve found little relief in their absence. For some reason I assumed once they were gone, the terrors would follow behind them, chasing after the shiny lenses and bright lights, all the way back to the Capitol.
But as it turns out, that couldn’t be further from reality.
Instead the lack of limelight has led to an uptick in nightmare. Not all equal in vigor but all too severe to be properly described by the word dreams.
Sometimes it’s Thresh, chasing me in the woods. Other times Cato tosses me off the Cornucopia to be eaten by the mutts. Occasionally I see Glimmer actually make it up the tree without the branches breaking beneath her feet, grabbing me by the braid and yanking me to the ground where the entire Career pack closes in on me like a pack of wild dogs.
Today though, it’s Clove dangling her knife above my head, taunting me, drawing out the kill. I can’t make out her words, the pulsating in my ears far too loud to understand just about anything, but she says something and then cracks up laughing, as if she’s the funniest person in the whole entire world, ecstatic to be the one to kill the girl on fire.
The dream ends when she plunges the knife into my heart. I don’t actually feel anything but it shocks me awake all the same.
It shocks me awake with such a start that it takes a moment to gather my bearings. It takes a moment to realize I’m alive and safe, in my new house, in District Twelve.
In Victor’s Village, to be exact.
The new home that I was gifted over a week ago, already ready to go with furniture and all, as a reward for my efforts in the games.
If I’m being honest, I feel like it’s taking just as much effort to battle these nightmares as it took to survive the arena.
That may be a bit of an exaggeration but it feels true. For the last couple of weeks I’ve been fighting almost every second of the day to come to terms with what occurred in the games.
To come to terms with all the things I did. All the things I did, with the sole purpose of surviving. All the people I hurt — all the people I killed, directly or indirectly — in effort to stay alive and come home to my mother and sister.
Every choices I made to save my own life has been playing on repeat inside my head every waking second since I woke up in the hospital in the Capitol and I feel like it’s finally going to drive me insane. It’s finally going to push me over the edge, right here, right now, in my new luxurious bedroom with my mother and sister none the wiser.
Of course, the nightmares have been a nice break from thinking of the one choice I made to save someone else’s life.
The one choice that may have disastrous consequences. The one choice I likely will never be able to escape.
Thinking about Peeta and the berries and the arena in those final moments and Cato’s mutilated body as the mutts gnawed away at him — and the look of heartbreak etched across blue eyes — does absolutely nothing to help my current state of mind and everything to exacerbate it.
I don’t even realize I’m crying until my mother’s voice sounds on the other side of the door.
“Katniss?” She calls lightly and I make an immediate effort to wipe my face and keep my voice even.
“I’m fine!” I swallow, hard, choking down the tears still fighting to come out. “Sorry, I just had a bad dream. Go back to bed.”
But she’s already opening the door before I’m even finished speaking. And I suppose I look even worse than I feel. “I know,” she says softly, looking at me with a compassion I would have rejected a couple months ago. “I heard you from down the hall.”
On the ride back to Twelve, between breaking Peeta’s heart and worrying about what President Snow may do to me or my family, I made a serious promise to myself that I would try and make things right between me and my mother.
I know she didn’t choose to be locked away in some far away, dark world after my father’s death. And I know she wishes she could take it all back.
And I know that I could have died in the games. The idea of leaving this world with my relationship with my mother still fractured and tense almost makes me cry harder.
“I’m sorry,” I say now, forcing myself to smile in a way that I hope is reassuring but am aware enough to know it probably looks pitiful at best. My tears refuse to stop and until then, none of my placating will have an effect. “I’ll be fine. Why don’t you start breakfast and I’ll be down in a moment.”
My mother nods, letting me take all initiative in our relationship. Just as she’s done for the last four years.
She turns as if to leave, as if to give me the space I’m so clearly wanting. The space I have all but verbally asked for.
But instead, as if making a split second decision, she surprises me. She spins around and makes a sudden beeline in my direction.
Both her arms wrap around me, holding me protectively, as if she could even begin to keep me safe from the horrors playing inside my head. Still though, her embrace isn’t the most startling thing.
It’s the fact that I instinctively return it.
I hugged her on the train platform in front of the cameras when arriving back in Twelve and I hugged her again yesterday at some point but this is the first time since I was eleven — since I was a child — that I readily accept her embrace. That I go as far as returning it.
That I willingly dive into her arms, just like I would have years ago, letting her comfort me instead of getting angry and defensive and mean.
It takes a moment for her to get over her evident shock, obviously not anticipating that I would even allow her to hold me, let alone clinging onto her like a needy kitten. But when she does, she sits down on the edge of my bed and pulls me into her arms, stroking my hair and rubbing my back in soft circles.
“It’s okay,” she whispers when my cries grow louder. “It’s okay, baby. I’m here now.”
I’m not your baby, I’d shouted at her years ago. I was so angry with her. I was so angry and so righteous and for what? For something she couldn’t control and couldn’t take back? For something she clearly needed help to manage?
I thought I knew everything when I was twelve. I thought I was the strongest person on earth.
Not now apparently, I think to myself as I wail into my mother’s neck, almost surprised that I still fit in her arms after all this time.
I don’t know how long I stay against her, letting her smooth back my sweat soaked hair and breathing in the scent of lavender I didn’t even know I missed while in the Capitol. It’s got to be close to an hour before my sobs die down and even then they threaten to start back up again.
“You’re home and safe,” she promises gently, rubbing my back again. “You will never go back to the games for as long as you live. You’re never going to see another arena. You’re going to live a long life here in Twelve.” Her voice is light and soft, almost like a hum. The way she speaks to Prim after a nightmare. The way she used to speak to me before my father died.
“Where’s Prim?” I croak, becoming more and more aware of how disgusting I feel. The nightmare left me covered in perspiration and I would feel sorry for my mother having to be so close to me if it wasn’t for the fact that she deals with much worse on a daily basis as a healer.
“At school,” she says, pulling back a little to wipe my leftover tears with her thumb. “You slept in late today.”
Right. Prim is starting school again now. It’s almost autumn. Gale is working in the mines six days a week. My mother is beginning to treat people for colds and croup again.
And I have to now decide how to spend my days as a happy little victor.
I suppose today isn’t the day to make that decision though. My head hurts from all the crying and my body feels weak with exhaustion despite the fact that I just woke up.
Before really thinking about it, I lean my head against my mother’s shoulder again, already seeing Clove with her knives reappear as soon as I shut my eyes.
“Are you hungry?” My mother asks, leaning down kissing my hair as she folds me back into her arms. I can tell she’s almost overjoyed that I’m allowing her to console me.
Almost. Because there’s no way she would have ever wished for this to be the reason I let her back in.
“No.” I shake my head, my stomach turning at the mere thought of eating right now.
“Then why don’t we get you cleaned up? Hmm?” She waits for my nod before standing up and taking my hand.
I let her lead me into our new bathroom, where the sinks are white and porcelain and the toilet feels too expensive to use. And the giant tub in the middle of the room makes the bucket we used to use in the Seam feel like a foot bath.
I watch as she moves the knobs around, already having gotten the hang of the appliance, and adds soothing, sweet smelling oils into the water.
Once the tub is halfway full she helps me undress and tosses my damp pajamas into a laundry basket by the door.
I sink to the bottom of the bath, feeling the blazing hot water relax my sore, achy muscles and encase me like a wool blanket in wintertime.
My mother lets me soak for a moment before kneeling down to the right of the tub and getting to work. She washes me up with rose scented soaps and cleans my hair with something that foams when you rub it between your hands and reminds me distantly of Effie Trinket.
“You’d be a good hair washer if we lived in the Capitol,” I murmur as she scrubs my scalp lightly with her fingernails.
She snorts and tips my chin up to rinse my locks. “In another life, I suppose.”
After double conditioning she expertly rings my hair out and then pulls the drain. I sit in the tub until it’s completely empty, having never actually seen huge swirls of water rushing down a drain before. It’s so fascinating that for a moment I consider refilling the tub just to pull the drain all over again.
Afterwards I sit on my bed silently, feeling worn and depleted, wrapped in a towel while she combs out the tangles from my hair, before pulling it into a simple braid.
“Mama,” I whisper as she grabs a silk shirt from my dresser.
“Yeah?”
“I’m so tired.”
My words are plain but the meaning behind them is loaded and she intrinsically understands my true intent.
I’m so tired. It’s only been two days since it all officially ended and I feel exhausted. I feel like I haven’t slept in a hundred years. I feel like I’ll never sleep again. I feel so much older than sixteen and at the same time so much younger and I don’t understand and you can’t understand but I just want to sleep. I just want to go to bed and actually sleep through the night without the panic and the fear.
Wordlessly, she turns back to the dresser and pulls out a nightgown instead. “Then you should go back to sleep,” she says simply, pulling away the towel and tugging the nightgown over my head, rightening my braid and moving back the covers to my bed.
And I crawl between sheets without hesitation and let her tuck me in, let her care for me, let her mother me again, in a way I’ve rejected for so long now. I lay there and let her rub my back, comforting me the same way she does when I’m too sick to push her away.
I’m almost asleep when she leans down and kisses me goodnight. “I love you, Katniss Sienna,” she whispers, standing to pull the blankets up to my chin. “I love you. And I’m so happy that my baby’s home safe.”
“Goodnight,” I mumble into the covers as she starts closing the door behind her. “Thank you,” I add as sleep grabs ahold of me again, but I doubt she catches it. “Thank you, Mama.”
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