stillatwin

[stillatwin]

Burdock’s  apology  soothes  her  heart  like  a  balm,  though  there’s  nothing  he  needed  to  apologise  for  –  he  wasn’t  the  one  who  pulled  Maysilee’s  name  from  the  bowl,  who  created  the  games  or  allowed  it  to  continue.  yet  Merrilee  finds  herself  offering  one  in  return,  because  in  Panem,  survival  doesn’t  mean  safety  –  the  reaping  carves  scars  into  everyone,  whether  their  name  is  called  or  not.  her  eyes  lift  to  meet  his  properly,  “  i’m  sorry  too,  ”  she  murmurs.

just  two  teenagers,  apologising  for  a  cruelty  neither  caused  but  both  must  endure.

her  fingers  find  Maysilee’s  necklace  again,  thumb  tracing  the  worn  metal.  there’s  only  one  thing  she’s  truly  sorry  for  —  that  she  and  Maysilee  are  identical  in  every  way  except  the  one  that  mattered  most:  luck.  they  share  the  same  face,  voice  and  the  same  sixteen  years  of  memories.  yet  luck,  the  most  fickle  and  most  precious  of  gifts,  remains  the  only  thing  they  can  never  truly  share.

five  simple  letters  —-  Maysi  vs  Merri.  how  strange,  she  thinks,  that  this  simple  distinction  at  birth  would  eventually  determine  which  twin  faces  the  arena  and  which  remains  behind  to  watch  from  afar,  powerless.

“  i  don’t  know  .  .  .  ”  she  answers  when  Burdock  asks  about  twin  connections,  wetting  her  bottom  lip  as  it  suddenly  goes  dry.  her  shoulders  lift  in  a  slight  shrug,  fingers  still  fidgeting  with  the  necklace  in  her  hand  as  if  channeling  Maysilee’s  presence,  “  i  think  so  .  .  .  ”

the  Capitol-approved  curriculum  certainly  never  taught  them  about  twin  bonds.  science,  like  everything  else,  is  carefully  filtered  —  just  enough  knowledge  to  be  useful  for  workers  but  never  enough  to  truly  understand  their  world.  “  sometimes  i  know  what  Maysilee’s  about  to  say  before  she  says  it, ”  she  offers.  memories  of  her  sister  beyond  blood  and  death  pull  a  small,  real  smile  from  Merrilee  –  the  ache  in  her  chest  easing  slightly,  “  it’s  almost  like  being  mentally  connected  to  your  best  friend . . . ”

“  haymitch  .  .  .  you two are  close  right?  ”  she  asks  gently.  it’s  only  through  Asterid’s  stories  (  shared  through  blushed  cheeks  and  lowered  voice  )  that  she  knows  bits  about  Burdock.  the  rest  comes  from  watching  her  peers  from  behind  the  candy  shop  counter,  the  merchant’s  daughter  in  her  memorising  friendships  as  easily  as  she  memorises  their  favourite  candy  flavour,  “  imagine  if  you  could  hear  Haymitch’s  thoughts  .  .  .  even  when  he’s  all  the  way  out  there  —  that’s  what  having  a  twin  is  like.  ”  

he takes a seat next to her and, for a quiet moment, burdock watches merrilee play with her necklaces. watches the way her face scrunches and the way it looks like she's clinging on to herself to stay grounded.

he knows the feeling. maybe it wasn't exactly the same. haymitch was his friend. not his brother. or his twin. but his own heart ached from the moment they'd dragged him onto that stage, knowing that the odds were he'd never see his friend again.

“try not to,” he murmurs. burdock chose to go hunting before the start of the games yesterday, though he'd have used any excuse to not watch it. he'd heard the wails of mrs. callow on the way home and put the pieces together that twelve had lost their first tribute. he'd checked on the abernathys and then on asterid. and then he saw maysilee on the screens that were always on during this time-alive and fighting-and sought out the sister left behind.

“but yeah.”

he hesitates a moment, maybe because he doesn't really know either of the donner girls beyond school, beyond some good or funny stories asterid shares, before burdie places a comforting hand on her shoulder. “i'm sorry, merrilee.” for what, he's not quite sure. how she feels? or the sister who was stuck and fighting her way back. though with one victor over fifty years, the odds were never in their favor. he tried not to let it make him ill.

he's got no words of comfort for her. nothing can help this horrible feeling while the districts of panem sat and waited to see who would come home.

“is all that stuff true? about twins feeling connected and all that...” he means it to distract her or to change the subject or maybe out of curiosity. but maybe it's the wrong question to ask now. or maybe the exact right one. maybe merrilee's heart pounded the way maysilee's surely did inside the arena.

[stillatwin]

a  moment’s  pause,  before  Merrilee  finally  steps  out  from  behind  the  counter  and  approaches  the  other  girl  cautiously,  “   —  you  were  the  one  who  mentioned  criminals  first.  i  didn’t  say  you  were  one  .  .  .  not  exactly.  ”  she  clarifies,  her  voice  softer  than  her  twin’s  would  have  been  in  the  same  situation.

Lenore  Dove’s  ‘  hobbies  ’  aren’t  exactly  unknown  to  her  –  she’d  spoken  about  it  once  when  Maysilee  had  let  something  slip  about  Lenore  and  refused  to  explain  further.  but  Merrilee  hadn’t  needed  the  whole  story  —  you  don’t  grow  up  sharing  a  mind  and  a  heart  with  someone  all  your  life  without  learning  how  to  read  between  the  lines.  she  offers  a  small  smile, “  i  don’t  think  you’re  a  criminal.  i  think  you  have  a  lovely  voice.  you  just  .  .  .  sometimes  sing  songs  that  make  scary  things  happen. ”

watching  Lenore  now  –  fiery-eyed  and  defiant  even  in  stillness  -  Merrilee  sees  everything  she  is  not.  she's  like  a  mockingjay  in  flight,  untethered  by  the  gravity  of  consequences.  meanwhile,  Merrilee,  is  the  songbird  in  a  gilded  cage  that  only  sings  melodies  she’s  taught,  her  world  small  and  her  safety  a  cage  disguised  as  kindness.  it  surely  is  not  perfect  —  the  Peacekeepers  still  terrify  her,  and  every  Reaping  Day,  her  heart  hammers  so  wildly  in  her  chest  that  she's  convinced  it  might  simply  give  out  from  fear  alone.  but  it  is  not  Lenore  Dove’s  courage  that  Merrilee  envies  —  it  is  her  freedom  and  the  way  she  acts  like  the  world  doesn’t  have  a  leash  around  her  throat.  sometimes,  Merrilee  wonders  if  she  could  ever  live  like  that.  but  the  wondering  is  always  followed  by  the  sobering  realisation  that  this  world  was  not  built  for  girls  with  fire  in  their  veins.  it  only  crushes  them  –  snuffs  them  out.

“  it  is  unfair  .  .  .  ”  her  features  soften,  the  restraints  they  all  live  under  are  suffocating,  even  Merrilee  can  acknowledge  that.  but  there  are  other  ways,  Merrilee  thinks,  certainly  there  must  be.  “  but  singing  forbidden  songs  only  make  the  Peacekeepers  angry,  ”  she  says,  practicality  winning  out  over  idealism  as  it  always  does  in  her  mind.  “  what  if  they  punish  the  whole  district?  ”

lenore dove typically didn't think before she acted. most of what she did was caused by fits of rage. rage for those that were helpless to stop their own CRUEL FATE. that day was no exception, she'd lost her temper and went off doing something her uncles advised against many times. she knew that she'd be chased down, but quite frankly, she couldn't have cared less about getting arrested. surely, she could find an alibi with haymitch, burdock, or one of her uncles. they'd all stick up for her, she just KNEW IT. though haymitch would be her last resort, she didn't want him getting tangled all up in her trouble.

she even had a small speech planned for if she was caught, if they arrested her and asked why she was running if she wasn't guilty. she'd go into a big speech about how they typically chased her without her doing anything, anyway, so why wouldn't she run ? as for the FORBIDDEN SONGS, they must've been hearing wrong, she knew better than to sing them in public. it was genius, she thought when she'd come up with it beforehand. the LAST TIME a rope had broken during a hanging, it may have been her fault, but they couldn't pin it on her, she'd come up with the perfect alibi : she was writing her will. that excuse wouldn't work again, though. she knew that. plus, singing forbidden songs was enough to get her arrested anyway.

❛ you don't really believe i'm a criminal, do you ? ❜ lenore dove squinted as she looked over merrilee, taking in her expression. ❛ they go around accusing me for things they have NO PROOF OF, you know. i'm not a criminal, just a girl who gets falsely accused of things i never did. ❜ things she did do but could never be pinned on her because she'd mastered the art of being SNEAKY with things. though, sometimes her rage did make her slip up. singing forbidden songs didn't happen often, but happened enough to cause the warning she got a few times before turn into a literal CHASE to try and arrest her.

❛ i didn't do anything, not anything that would warrant an APOLOGY. anyway, i'm not sorry for what i may or may not have done. you know they're out there hanging men that don't deserve it ? all he did was protect his child. it's unfair for them to punish him for it. ❜ she figured merrilee was probably too scared to have an opinion on it, but lenore dove had STRONG OPINIONS on how things were done in twelve and truthfully, she would make it known how she felt even if it meant getting into trouble.

[stillatwin]

Thinking about Maysilee Donner. A girl who refused to let the Capitol dehumanize her. A girl who wanted to die with dignity, without begging for her life, because that mattered to her. Who set up a place setting with napkins and forks in the middle of the arena because she is a human being. Who loved jewelry and fashion and believed that her appearance sends a message about who she is, and who wanted that message to be respectable, dignified, worth something.

Thinking about Maysilee Donner who was unafraid to slap the woman who pulled her name in the reaping and who threw clever insults towards anyone who provoked her, no matter who they were. Maysilee Donner who believed human dignity is inherent but respect is earned and who refused to give respect to those who did not deserve it.

Maysilee Donner whose father threw money at the reaping stage as if that could save her, and the money floated to the ground just like the confetti, meaningless paper that signified nothing when placed against the power of the Capitol. Whose privilege could not save her. Who recognized that reality and faced it with more fortitude than any person should ever have to display. Maysilee Donner.

[stillatwin]

Yellowjackets Season 3 | Episode 9 "How the Story Ends"

[stillatwin]

⋆｡‧˚ʚ💋ɞ˚‧｡⋆ 𝐢'𝐦 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮

❝ you don’t have to say anything just let me stay with you. ❞

❝ i’m here, and i’m not going anywhere. ❞

❝ you’re not alone. not while i’m around. ❞

❝ want me to hold your hand for a while? ❞

❝ i noticed you’ve been quiet lately. do you want to talk or just sit together? ❞

❝ you don’t have to pretend around me. i see you. ❞

❝ even when it feels like no one cares i do. always. ❞

❝ i brought your favorite snacks and something soft to wear. ❞

❝ let’s watch something silly and forget the world for a while. ❞

❝ you don’t have to be strong for me. i’ve got you. ❞

❝ can i just hold you for a little while? ❞

❝ i don’t know the right words, but i’m not leaving. ❞

❝ take all the time you need i’ll still be right here. ❞

❝ you don’t have to carry this alone anymore. ❞

❝ your feelings are valid. every single one of them. ❞

❝ just rest. i’ll stay until you fall asleep. ❞

❝ even in silence, you matter to me. ❞

❝ let’s take it slow, okay? i’m with you. ❞

❝ you are so deeply loved even when you can’t feel it. ❞

❝ i see how hard you’re trying, and i’m so proud of you. ❞

❝ lean on me tonight. i’ll carry the heavy stuff for a while. ❞

❝ want to lay your head in my lap and breathe for a bit? ❞

❝ you don’t have to explain. i just want to make you feel safe. ❞

❝ no matter what your mind tells you you’re not a burden. ❞

❝ i can’t fix everything, but i can be here. and i am. ❞

❝ i’ll sit in the dark with you until you’re ready for the light again. ❞

❝ i don’t need you to be okay right now. i just need you to let me stay. ❞

❝ i’ll be the one who stays, even when it gets heavy. ❞

❝ i know it’s hard to ask for help. so don’t. i’m offering. ❞

❝ there’s nothing wrong with needing someone. i need you, too. ❞

❝ you don’t have to fix yourself to be worthy of love. ❞

❝ if it hurts, you can tell me. if you can’t speak, i’ll still stay. ❞

❝ you’ve made it through every hard day so far. and i’ll help you through this one. ❞

❝ i’m not scared of your sadness. you don’t scare me. ❞

❝ let me hold you until the world feels less loud. ❞

❝ we don’t need to talk. let me just be here with you. ❞

❝ your existence makes the world better, even when you feel like it doesn’t. ❞

❝ i love you. not in spite of your sadness, but including it. ❞

❝ i know you feel like no one sees you. but i do. i always do. ❞

❝ you mean more to me than you’ll ever know. ❞

❝ i’m not expecting a smile. i’m just staying close. ❞

❝ i know you’re hurting. i’ll keep showing up anyway. ❞

❝ you don’t have to feel okay for me to love you. ❞

[stillatwin]

Maysilee’s  gaze  flicks  back  on  Haymitch  at  his  suggestion.  she  shrugs,  pushes  herself  up  and  heads  for  the  fridge,  his  words  clinging  to  the  back  of  her  mind  as  she  crosses  the  room.  you  only  said  what  everyone’s  thinking. the  cold  bites  as  the  ice  touches  her  swollen  cheek.  she  flinches,  sucking  in  a  breath  through  clenched  teeth. 

as  she  stands  there,  ice  pressed  firmly  to  her  cheek,  frustration  builds  inside  her  like  steam  in  a  kettle.  if  everyone’s  thinking  it  .  .  .  then  why  the hell  isn’t  anyone  saying  it?  the  sting  spreads  across  her  skin  —  pain  with  a  purpose,  she  thinks  to  herself.  the  kind  of  pain  that’s  supposed  to shut  you  up.  she’s never  known  pain  like  this,  the  ordinary  scrapes  and  bruises  of  district  twelve  life  pales  in  comparison  to  Drusilla’s  clawed  blows.  she  can  still  feel  the  hate  behind  each  strike,  unmerciful,  branding  Maysilee  with  her  rage  like  she  wasn’t just  a  girl  —  just  something  wild  that  needed  to  be  beaten  into  submission.

Haymitch’s  comment  about  her  looking  fearsome  draws  a  smirk  from  her,  but  it  doesn’t  quite  reach  her  eyes.  it’s  not  enough  to  quell  the  fire  burning  in  her  chest.  “   why  —   ”  she  stops,  then  huffs  out  a  breath  through  her  nose.  “   ——  if  i’m  just  saying  what  everyone’s  thinking  —  then  why  isn’t  anyone  else  saying  it?  why  just think  it?   ”  she  presses  a  hand  flat  against  the  counter,  and  when  she  speaks  again  her  tone  softens,  but  the  deep  furrow  between  her  brows  remains.  “   we’re  not  cattle  ———  but they'll forget that  if  we  keep  pretending  like  there’s  nothing  wrong  with  the  way  they  treat  us.   ” 

“   we’re  dying  anyway  — what  more  can  they  take  from  us?   ”

haymitch is struggling to pick his jaw up off the floor after witnessing the altercation between maysilee and drusilla.   he thought the donner girl would be the kind to cozy up to the capitol people,  not only a stuck-up but also a suck-up.   clearly,  she’s proved him wrong.   maybe it’s right what people say and you should never judge a book by its cover.   “guess you just said what everyone’s thinkin’.”   but other than being impressed,  he’s also deeply sorry for her.   she may have bullied him when he was six,  itchy itchy haymitchy,  and he may or may not still be somewhat bitter because of that,  but these welts surely sting like hell.   “maybe they got ice here?   you could use some.”   so it doesn’t swell up.

regardless whether he believes her explanation,  doubting she cares much about louella,  it doesn’t change the fact that she did stand up to drusilla and now he sees her in a slightly different light.   “think it’ll take a lot more to knock some sense into that one,  but good job tryin’,”   he counters,  amusement causing the corners of his lips to twitch despite himself.   it doesn’t really surprise him to hear that she’d never been disciplined at home in that way.   but maybe that’s what makes the whole thing even more tragic.   you raise a child,  do your best to protect her,  never hurt her,  and then some crazy woman from the capitol just whips her on a whim.   it’s heartbreaking.   his ma’s never hurt him either.   yeah,  okay,  she might have threaten to whoop him a few times,  but never acted on her words.   “you look pretty fearsome now,”   he points out,  struggling to find any other positives.

[stillatwin]

@whatsbehindthefacade  𝐰𝐲𝐚𝐭𝐭  𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰  said:  “  or  better  yet,  let  me  die  right  here  in  the  rain.  ”

Maysilee  turns  to  Wyatt,  her  eyes  softening  —  days  away  from  the  Games,  it  hardly  feels  like  the  time  and  place  for  jokes  about  dying.  she  presses  her  lips  together,  the  familiar  spark  of  a  sharp  remark  already  rising  to  the  tip  of  her  tongue,  threatening  to  slip  free.  but  then  her  gaze  shifts  away  from  the  older  boy  as  the  weight  of  his  words  starts  sinking  in,  heavier  than  she’d  like.

her  eyes  flick  toward  nothing  in  particular  as  her  mind  wanders.  dying  in  the  rain  –  would  his  snoring  really  be  that  loud?  what  were  the  odds  they’d  end  up  somewhere  with  rain  so  light  it's not enough to cover his snoring?  she  scoffs  under  her  breath.  god,  she’s  spent  too  much  time  with  him  —  she’s  starting  to  think  in  probabilities.  Wyatt  logic  –  just  what  she  needed.

Maysilee  exhales  deeply,  palms  pressing  against  the  cool  ground  as  she  leans  back.  “  die  in  the  rain?  ”  she  says  lightly,  her  voice  finding  its  rhythm  again,  though  it's  missing  its  usual  bite,  “  please  —  with  the  way  you  snore,  we’re  lucky  the  thunder’s  drowning  you  out  for  once.   ”

Maysilee  tilts  her  head,  a  small  smile  playing  on  her  lips.  “  when  the  time  comes  .  .  .  ”  she  adds,  too  casually,  “  .  .  .  the  rain  might  be  the  only  thing  saving  us  from  that  chainsaw  snore  of  yours  before  it  gets  us  killed.  ”   

[stillatwin]

one of us has to be the worst victor in history.

[stillatwin]

me, after doomscrolling the s.otr tag and someone at work asks me how im doing:

[stillatwin]

maysilee's father waving money in everyone's faces thinking he could bail her out of the hunger games... how do you think her family would feel if they knew maysilee was physically assaulted in the train possibly even before they made it out of the district 12

[stillatwin]

Send "Do you trust me?" to see whether or not my muse trusts yours.

[stillatwin]

YELLOWJACKETS | Season 3, Episode 9, “How the Story Ends”

[stillatwin]

@wontbeg  𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐞  𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫  said:  “  my  nightmares  are  usually  about  losing  you.  i'm  okay  once  i  realize  you're  here.  ”

Merrilee’s  brows  begin  to  furrow,  cheek  resting  in  her  palm,  legs  crossed  at  the  ankles  as  she  lays  sprawled  across  Maysilee’s  bed.  her  sister’s  confession  makes  her  heart  sink  —   a  fear  so  familiar  it  might  as  well  have  been  her  own  voice  whispering  it  back  to  her.

they’d  entered  this  world  together,  how  could  they  possibly  leave  it  any  other  way?

her  throat  tightens,  the  hand  that  had  been  mindlessly  braiding  the  fraying  edge  of  Maysilee’s  quilt  falls  still.  it’s  not  fair,  she  thinks,  how  something  said  so  softly  could  hurt  this  much.

because  the  truth  is,  she  thinks  about  it  too  —--  not  just  in  sleep  but  in  broad  daylight,  when  she’s  wide  awake,  it  still  finds  her.  every  year,  every  reaping  day  she  would  watch  the  stage  with  a  splintered  heart.  terrified,  not  just  of  hearing  her  own  name  but  of  hearing  her  sister’s  too.  being  a  twin  in  Panem  means  twice  the  odds,  twice  the  dread.  their  family  is  always  haunted  by  two  versions  of  the  same  nightmare  and  whichever  way  it  ends,  they’ll  lose  too  much  to  ever  be  whole  again.

it’s  always  there,  that  quiet,  gnawing  fear  —  that  one  day  she  might  wake  up  in  a  world  without  Maysilee  in  it.  sometimes,  she  wonders  if  people  like  them  were  ever  meant  to  live  in  a  world  like  this  —  one  that  teaches  you  how  to  lose,  forget  and  let  go  like  none  of  it  ever  mattered.

her  gaze  drops  then,  eyes  fixed  on  the  quilt  as  she  resumes  tugging  at  the  same  loose  thread  she’s  unraveled  what  feels  like  a  hundred  times  before.  she  thinks  of  what  their  parents  said  last  week,  how,  with  their  birthday  coming  up  –  they  could  finally  have  separate  rooms,  their  own  space.

but  now,  it  feels  like  too  much  space.

“  should  we  tell  mom  and  dad  .  .  .  we’ll  share  for  another  year?  ”  she  doesn’t  look  up  when  she  asks  it.  sharing  a  room  with  her  sister  feels  like  a  precious  gift  now  –  just  to  hear  her  sister  breathe  at  night,  to  know  without  a  doubt  that  she’s  still  there  with  her.  

[stillatwin]

If Maysilee would’ve died during the carriage scene instead of Louella, do you think they would’ve forced Merrilee to take her place?

[stillatwin]

friendly reminder that maysilee and merrilee are identical twins so their closeness/connection is truly no joke quite literally one soul split in two 🩷🩷

[stillatwin]

sorry i've been a bit spacey here !!! ok after recovering from flu/hay fever/whatever it was last week, i got busy packing because we're moving soon.

ALL THE CASTING ANNOUNCEMENTS GOT ME EXCITEEEEED TO WRITE, i might chuck my replies in a queue though moving drains me so much but ily all can't wait to write more here with all of you !!! 🩷

[stillatwin]

Sophie Thatcher as Natalie Scatorccio ► YELLOWJACKETS | 1.01 Pilot