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7soulstars · 3 years

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Is it okay if I request a Thranduil x Reader one shot where the reader is a Selkie? Selkies are from Scottish myth - they have a magical seal fur coat that lets them turn into a seal when they go underwater, but remain human while on land.

Hey babe! Thank you so much for requesting! Of course it’s okay. I had no idea what a selkie was in the beginning but through your explaination and some research I figured it out ! Again, I wanted to make this an angst but poor bby Thranduil has already gone through enough so I made it soft. Anyways, no more spoliers! Enjoy and thank you for being so patient with me !

Vespertine/ The Elf and the Selkie

Pairing: Thranduil x Selkie! Reader

Warnings: Angsty/Sad start, Mentions of death,Use of Scots(language spoken by Selkies), ending might make you go aww

Summary: A father telling his children a story of the legends long forgotten.

.................

Vespertine; Occurring in the evening.

Lands lost, Kingdoms fell, Middle Earth was saved but no one could tell. The pain, people lost and the children snatched could not be reversed. Especially for the elves who left for the undying lands.

One remained.

King Thranduil remained. Protests were made, the lords argued and urged. But he wouldn’t budge.

“There is nothing left of me...My duty is over and my family is not returning back to me...I shall stay here.....in Mirkwood”, he had simply stated to Elrond before he dismissed him. Elrond had sighed saying, “This will not end well for you....”,before leaving the former king.

Alone.

He sat on his throne listlessly. Not a sound to be heard. No chittering crowds, no parties. Just emptiness. 14 years had passed like this and Thranduil had gotten used to it. Today marking the 14th year that is.

Time flew by fast for elves. But not for lonely elves. No matter how beautifully maintained all of Mirkwood still was due to unbroken elven magic the gap kept growing wider in the King’s heart. He was left to his own disposition. He grew and foraged his own food, he drew his own water, he entertained himself with his own hobbies. But he never left Mirkwood. He protected the empty abandoned city.

He got used to it. He got used to being lonely until that one evening.

Thranduil killed spiders at evening. They were weaker by then and it was easier. He walked across the tangled path and froze on hearing whimpers. They were soft and pained coming from the rocks near the forest riverbank. The blone walked stealthily and carefully with sword in his hands and furrowed brows as he neared the rocks. When his eyes fell on the cause of the noise as he stopped dead in his tracks.

An injured seal.

It’s side was deeply cut into as it barely managed to keep it’s eyes open and tried to move away erratically from the said elf as if it was in danger. “Hey! Stop! I’m not going to hurt you!”, the elf yell-whispered as he struggled to keep the creature in place.Almost as if it understood it stopped still whining due to the pain inflicted by moving around before it fainted. Thranduil sighed. He hadn’t used healing for years he wasn’t sure he could do it now either. But leaving the seal injured was not an option. So he had to do it.

He did.

Riding his loyal elk that had stayed with him he returned back to the nearest cave where he had healed and left the seal.

It was empty.

Thranduil had frowned. Thinking it had left he turned only to stop and look back with a sword swinging back as he heard a spash and a soft voice.

“Are ye an elf ?”,voice asked. Thranduil looked down, behind the rock he had seen the seal in, peeped a woman. She was clutching onto a seal coat as she looked visibly scared at the sword drawn at her which the king immediately put back into it’s sheath. At this she came out furthermore as she pointed at the reddish scar on her side. “ye helpit me yesterday ?”, she questioned her eyes gleaming with an undefined innocence.

Oh.

He had heard of a Selkie before but merely as myths. His mother sang him the song of the Mistress and The Selkie every night as a young ellon.It was his favourite. Thranduil looked back at the seal coat she held and then back at her. She gasps and immediately hides it behind her back as she attempts to look mad at the other. Thranduil’s heart felt weird. It fluttered at her action. 14 years without any contact with anyone made him forget the stern way of speaking that he had to maintain.

“I will not take it from you. I am here to see if you are felling better. Did you eat?”, he asked as he kneeled in front of her. She looked at him with intent in her eyes. Reaching forward she placed her wet hands on the king’s cheeks catching him off guard. “Wh-”

“Ye savit ma life from the human sailors”, she smiled softly.

Thranduil frowned in distaste he hadn’t heard the word ‘human’ in Valar knows how many years and it still leaves a sour taste in his mouth. He looked at her. Her facial features. Her blown out eyes. Her curiosity.

Her curiosity.

He was cut out of his thoughts of course a shade of pick dusting his face as he stuttered when she had moved to touch his sensitive elf ears. “A like yer ears ye are sae beautiful.” Thranduil had stilled and mentally yelled at himself because he knew she did not know elven customs but he let her do as she pleases.

The sky got darker and he knew he had to leave. But her words replayed in head over and over again

“Will ye come back tomorrow ?”

As if he could hear her speaking right as he sleeps.

Oh. She is alone too....

Thranduil did go back. Again and again and again for 30 years, every day straight. Her name was Y/N and her husband was killed by sailors and their daughter, taken away. She ran into hiding and reached Mirkwood where he saved her. They grew closer. Maybe because Thranduil liked Y/N.

Maybe because she was just like him or maybe he was in love.

He sat by the riverbank with Y/N who wore his spare clothes when she took her human form as they watched the birds and made flower crowns. Thranduil was distracted, constantly looking at the selkie’s expressions as she concentrated on making a flowercrown with water lilies from the river. On finishing she looked at him with the eyes he adored. “Look!”,she exclaimed as she put it on his elks head as it leaned towards her. It was attatched to her just the way it was attatched to Thranduil which was surprising to say the least. A smile plastered onto his face as the words slipped from his mouth. “It’s beautiful. Just like you.” There was a brief silence as Y/N slowly shifted. Her words almost going unnoticed as she stuttered. “Dinnae give me false hope.....” That moment Thranduil realized,

He was absolutely enamored by her.

He didn’t wait for even a minute more of thought before catching Y/N’s lips with his own in a searing kiss. It wasn’t too long or too less. Just right like them. But Y/N drew back and a look of panic spread Thanduil as he saw her eyes full of tears. “Please do not cry! Is it something I did Y/N ?”, he said as he tried wiping her tears frantically.

“A cannot leave the water for a long time A will aye have tae come back thon is a selkie's fate. A cannot stop lovin ye either or A will dee a selkie's fate“ (I cannot leave the sea for a long time i will always have to come back that is a selkie's fate. I cannot stop loving you either or I will die a selkie's fate”

Oh.

Thranduil knew what that meant now. He had felt it before, Y/N did too and so did Tauriel. The fear that he never wanted anyone to feel again.

“Oh darling you do not need to leave the water for us to be together. I will always be here. You could even spend time with me here”,pointed towards the forest path reaching up towards the palace, “Don’t stop loving me....please....”

For the first time ever Elrond’s prediction was wrong.

Thranduil did not end up alone. He got a second chance.In life, in family

“Did they meet like that forever Ada?”

Well, yes,until someone with blonde long hair wearing a green tunic and with strikingly similar features as her lover gave Y/N a seal coat from a late Selkie.

“So did grand adar become like the Maiden from the song and went away with grand naneth?”

Mhmm. And the someone who gave the coat looked over them from far until he got the courage to visit for tea. And they all lived happily ever after. It’s almost Vespertine, your grandparents will be back soon.

“Legolas have you been telling her about us again ?”

Well Ada she did want to know the legend of the Elf and the Selkie who loved at Vespertine.

--The End--

I hope this is good I hope this is good please be good. I really worked so hard on this I created an entire novel worthy plot but I couldn’t put it all in a oneshot so I had to settle with this I really really hope you liked this it was soo hard to not make this sad and then I came across this song and everything just fell into thoughts like these😭. I know Thranduil is a bit ooc but pychologicaly speaking he did live alone for 14 years so I guessed it may change his behaviour especially after the battle of 5 armies. Again I really hope you like it. Please like, share and comment if you like my work to support and encourage me! Please do not plagarize my work I literally sell my soul to it.🥺🥺 Requests are always open and I love ya’ll soo much.

~Love, Hri 🥰🥰

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aion-rsa · 3 years

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Squid Game’s Most Heartbreaking Hour is Also Its Best

https://ift.tt/3u23hm5

This Squid Game article includes MAJOR spoilers for all nine episodes of the series, including Episode 6.

“Gganbu” isn’t the Squid Game episode with the highest kill count. It’s not the episode when we finally discover the man behind the deadly competition, or its ultimate winner. It is not the most fast-paced or action-driven of the Netflix series’ nine installments, nor is it the bloodiest. Instead, it is a relatively quiet hour that divides its characters into teams of two, with each pair acting as their own mini-social experiment. If the “deadly competition” trope is designed to reflect on the inherent goodness or not of humanity, then Squid Game‘s most articulate answer to the question of what humans will or will not do to survive comes in “Gganbu,” and it is as nuanced as it is heartrending.

What Happens in “Gganbu”?

“Gganbu” concerns itself with the events of Round 4. Before the next, mysterious competition begins, the remaining players are asked to pair up, unaware of how the structure might come into play. Once they have chosen partners, they enter a massive room designed to look like a traditional Korean village. Each player is given a bag with 10 marbles, and instructed to play a game of their choosing with their partner. After 30 minutes, whoever has won the game, and all of their partner’s marbles, will pass the round and survive. The loser will be “eliminated.” This is the round when characters we have come to care about start dying…

This is also the episode that gives the most time to a round of a competition. Episode 7, “VIPs,” comes close with its depiction of Round Five’s bridge of glass, but the narrative focus is split between the competitors and the disgustingly rich men who have come to watch. In “Gganbu,” there is no such split focus. The players begin choosing their characters around the four-minute mark, and they enter the playing arena at around the 13-minute mark. This is where they will stay until the end of the episode, which means the viewer experiences Round 4 in what is, more or less, real time. “Gganbu” makes use of every bit of it.

Can any of these players hold on to any scrap of their humanity when they have been manipulated into Squid Game? This is the question the “deadly competition” trope seeks to explore and, sometimes, answer. Squid Game doesn’t opt for one definitive answer, but rather a more complicated and nuanced one. It does this by giving us four clear, varied scenarios to see this theme played out.

Deok-su vs. Ja-hyoung

First, we have our duo with the least surprising thematic outcome: gangster Deok-su and henchman Ja-hyoung. Unlike Sang-woo, these two have rarely pretended to prioritize anything over their own survival and accumulation of power. When Deok-su betrays Mi-nyeo, leaving her to her presumed death again and again rather than risking his own survival by teaming up with her, it’s expected. Past that, there is little artifice to Deok-su’s games with Ja-hyoung. Ja-hyoung has dropped the act that he will obey Deok-su’s orders without question, but not even Deok-su is surprised by that. After all, he lives his life without the comfort of human connection, solely trusting in violence and money as security—why should he expect anything else from his social circle? What’s most interesting here is the game stipulation that says Deok-su cannot use violence to win the marbles. This puts Deok-su at a disadvantage because violence has always been how he exerts power. While Deok-su ultimately wins, this is the most unsettled we’ve seen him up to this point, and a reminder that even violence has its limits when it comes to ensuring survival.

Sang-woo vs. Ali

Lying can be a form of subtle violence, and it’s one that Sang-woo has demonstrated himself very capable of since the beginning of Squid Game, most notably when he chose to knowingly send his “teammates,” including childhood friend Gi-hun, to the harder dalgona challenges in Round 2. If you’ve been paying attention to Sang-woo, then his betrayal of Ali isn’t particularly surprising, but it cuts much deeper. That is because, while the viewer may not be shocked that Sang-woo would trick Ali to his death to save himself, Ali is. While this characterization didn’t always work for me—I think Ali would be more discerning as a 33-year-old immigrant who has been screwed over before—it works on an emotional and thematic level. Ali is depicted as the most innocent character within the game; he is almost child-like in his portrayal. To see Sang-woo take advantage of that innocence is upsetting. It may be tempting to see Ali as a passive player in this game, but that’s not how I view him. To me, believing in the goodness of others, and taking a chance on the relationships you have built is not only an active decision, but one of the bravest ones—an action that Deok-su and Sang-woo are much too cowardly to ever take themselves.

Gi-hun vs. Il-nam

While Gi-hun may struggle to play “fair” against Il-nam when his own survival is at stake, it’s all in the context of Gi-hun’s first major decision in this episode: to take Il-nam as his teammate. When the partner requirement is announced, Gi-hun initially goes to seek a more able-bodied contestant—and he has some good options. However, when someone points out that there is an uneven number of people and makes the assumption that the odd man out will be killed, Gi-hun sacrifices the edge a more physically able teammate might give him in order to make sure Il-nam doesn’t die. In this episode, Gi-hun hits peak aspirational relatability. He is the kind of player, the kind of human, we would like to believe ourselves to be. He’s relatable in that, when Il-nam’s apparent dementia gives him the chance to avoid losing, he takes it; he wants to survive. He’s aspirational in that, when faced with entering Round 4 in the first place, he chose friendship and compassion over the presumed competitive edge. It’s not the first time we’ve seen him make that decision, and it won’t be the last.

Squid Game: What Could Season 2 Look Like?

By Kayti Burt

Is Squid Game Based on an Anime, Comic, or Manga?

By Kayti Burt

Ultimately, the outcome of “Gganbu”‘s contest between Gi-hun and Il-nam hits different once you’ve seen the ending of the season, and the Oh Il-nam twist. Il-nam doesn’t die here. In many ways, Il-nam’s arc in this episode foreshadows that reveal. For most of the episode, we and Gi-hun are led to believe that Il-nam doesn’t fully understand what’s going on. Then, with only minutes left in the round, Il-nam reveals to Gi-hun that he knows Gi-hun has been tricking him, using his apparent memory problems against him to ensure he isn’t taken out of the game. It’s a manipulation not unlike the larger manipulations of the game in the sense that Il-nam has so much more power than Gi-hun, and is using that power to play with him and see what he will do. It’s cruel because it is dishonest. Watching this the first time, Il-nam’s decision to let Gi-hun win is a powerful one, and it disappoints that the Il-nam plot twist retroactively undercuts that narrative choice. That being said, the playing out of this dynamic—both a first and second time—helps to give us a complex, nuanced view of humanity.

Sae-byeok vs. Ji-yeong

While most of the players spend their half hour playing marbles to the death, Sae-byeok and Ji-yeong choose to “enjoy” what will be the final 30 minutes of one of their lives. This decision alone is a thematically impactful one: it treats life as precious. By using that 30 minutes to share their secrets with one another, they are choosing humanity’s capacity for togetherness and connection over humanity’s capacity for violence and desperation. They tell stories about the pain they have endured, and trade dreams about a future only one of them (and then neither of them) will have. While some, especially during an initial watch, may think the “Gganbu” of the title refers to the friendship between Gi-hun and Il-nam, I think it refers to the connection between Sae-byeok and Ji-yeong. If a gganbu is, as Il-nam describes it: “a good friend, one you trust a lot [and] you share things with,” then Sae-byeok and Ji-yeong become gganbu over the course of this hour of television.

In the end, Ji-yeong decides to let her gganbu, Sae-byeok, win. If Deok-su and Sang-woo represent the worst of humanity’s capacity for selfishness, then Sae-byeok and especially Ji-yeong represent humanity’s capacity for hope. And, unlike so many stories in this subgenre, Squid Game treats Ji-yeong’s act of desperate hope as just as likely as Deok-su or Sang-woo’s desperate acts of self-interest.

Humanity is not a monolith. Some of us make selfish decisions and some of us make selfless ones. Usually, it’s a combination of both. Squid Game neither wholly condemns humanity, nor wholly celebrates it; instead, it goes for something in-between, with an eye towards hope. While other episodes in Squid Game‘s first season concern themselves with a criticism of how society allows the ultra-powerful few to make decisions about the value of human life, “Gganbu”‘s ambitions are simultaneously simpler and much more ambitious: It chooses to depict the most powerful and affecting act not as a show of violence, but rather as a quiet gift of friendship and the sharing of one’s own name. As a result, “Gganbu” is Squid Game at its absolute best.

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What is your favorite episode of Squid Game? Let us know in the comments below.

The post Squid Game’s Most Heartbreaking Hour is Also Its Best appeared first on Den of Geek.

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#aion-rsa #Den of Geek

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straydog733 · 2 years

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Reading Resolution: “Penance” by Kanae Minato

4. A book written in East Asia: Penance by Kanae Minato

List Progress: 2/30

TW: Murder, sexual assault

Trauma, especially trauma experienced by a child, leaves a mark. Japanese author Kanae Minato’s second novel, Penance, has five different narrators who have been deeply marked and marred by the murder of a child fifteen years before. Each of them has processed their grief, fear and rage in different ways, but none of them have escaped unscathed. Minato is incredibly skilled at showing the effects of pain over time, and while this novel is a bit lacking compared to her debut, Confessions, the visceral depiction of the ripple effects of trauma is well worth the time.

Ten year old Emily Adachi is lured away from her friends and murdered by a strange man. Her four friends Sae, Maki, Akiko and Yuka all are questioned as witnesses, but none of them can describe the man’s face. Emily’s mother lashes out and blames the girls for the tragedy, and fifteen years later, right before the statute of limitations for the murder is reached, each of them reaches out to her with the story of what their life has looked like since that day. It is a great central conceit, and a brilliant way to add layers and different perspectives to the crime with each new narrator. But separating the sections so discreetly also has its downsides: the stories become somewhat repetitive after enough iterations, and the chapters vary in quality. I found the first three stories much more engaging, most likely because they were more self-contained. When the novel has to bring everything together in the last two, the seams start to show and the inconsistencies become more apparent.

Penance is not for the faint of heart, with detailed descriptions of murder and sexual assault, and the idea of spending a whole novel unpacking childhood trauma will surely turn off some readers. But the prose moves fast and the stories are exciting, so the audience is propelled forward through even the darkest moments. The ending might not be the strongest, and this book will always live in the shadow of Confessions, but it is quite engaging all on its own.

Would I Recommend It: Yes.

#straydog's reading resolution #penance #kanae minato

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ears-awake-eyes-opened · 4 years

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Wedding Colors (Part 1)

(Hayffie ❤️🧡💛💚💙💖. An exploration of Effie’s evolving character as she faces past and present personal intensities while making preparations for Finnick and Annie’s wedding.)

6:00—wake up. The timer in Effie’s quarters buzzed, and the overhead lights turned on automatically. Up up up! It’s going to be a big, big, big day! If the lights could have spoken, that’s what they would have said... The irony.

“This oppressive cavern has no respect for my individual biorhythms!” She pulled the blanket up over her head.

Her one consolation was that the blanket smelled like Haymitch — his skin, his hair, his body with hers. She breathed in deeply, and the scents evoked memories of the evening before. If there was going to be regret, she hadn’t yet felt it. Instead, she was inundated with the sensations of an awakened heart and flushed cheeks.

She lifted her nightgown and traced the paths his hands had taken. Pleasure urged her fingertips in concentric circles and symbols of infinity. Her core flooded as she came alive, so quickly. Effie turned her face into the pillow to stifle the sounds coming from her throat as she trembled and found release.

Every morning in that dungeon, she’d missed the sunrise — the infusion of gold and blue, with wispy clouds white as cotton or pink like tufts of spun sugar. For weeks she’d longed for some bit of delight. And she was feeling it now.

Unfortunately, the timer chirped every five minutes until she placed her forearm into the hole in the wall which imprinted her schedule for the day. She dragged her sated body out of bed to submit to obnoxious authority in order to silence the equally obnoxious alarm.

“...7:00—breakfast, 7:30—kitchen duties, 8:00—Command...” It had been a couple of weeks since Plutarch had an assignment for her which took her down to Command. Am I in trouble? was her initial thought.

Aemilia Trinket’s voice crept out from the recesses of her mind. “You deserve whatever punishment awaits you for sacrificing your virtue to that boor!”

“Oh, Mother...” Effie pushed back at the chastising words inside her. “I said goodbye to my *virtue* 17 years ago. ...And shut up about Haymitch. You don’t know him. You don’t know him at all.” She said it louder than intended, then glanced around her quarters. Are there recorders in here? ...Probably. The people in charge in 13 seemed to care as little about privacy as they did about free will. In which case, they likely got an earful last night! Effie changed into her clothes quickly, imagining the horror of cameras hidden as well.

She slid one of her bracelets onto her wrist and slipped her sunglasses into her pocket. Then she gazed into the small mirror on the wall, searching for evidence that someone might be peering out at her from within. Her reflection was flat here, a shadow of her normal self, her former self.

Her soft curls were weighed down by the residue of industrial shampoo. “This golden color is lovely,” her mother had told Effie’s 5-year-old self, “Though I had hoped it would have grown long and thick by now. You must resign yourself, Euphemia, to a lifetime of woven ribbons, extensions, and silk scarves. Implants may be a possibility when you’re older. Or wigs might come back into fashion. Let us hope they do.”

This is my favorite part of you... Haymitch’s words broke through the old memory. He’d threaded his fingers through her hair and held on like a person drowning, kissing her until her lips were raw.

For an instant, she considered leaving her head uncovered today, but split ends after weeks of unmanicured growth brought her to her senses. She brushed out the night’s tangles and tied her hair up as usual in order to continue hiding at least that much of herself.

If Coin had given Effie approval to continue wearing the wig she’d arrived in, then she wouldn’t be restricted now to improvised kerchiefs and turbans. How is a person supposed to stand out here when everyone is ordered to look the same!?

***

7:00—Breakfast. In the dining hall, Effie always sat at her assigned table, unless someone she felt comfortable with was scheduled to eat at the same time, in which case she joined them if space permitted.

The list of people in 13 who she was comfortable with was short. It began with the Everdeens and Gale. He’d introduced her to his family, but they remained distant. Most people here kept their distance from her. She didn’t like to think about it. “Everyone is still adjusting,” sweet Delly Cartwright had mentioned weeks ago.

Effie tolerated Plutarch’s company as soon as she’d forgiven him for the forced rescue effort which brought her here. Next came Katniss’s *prep team* which included 13’s barber along with the nurses who did laser treatments to remove scarring. Cressida and her film crew whose names Effie never made an effort to recall were from the Capitol, but she felt little kinship with them.

There were also the people who had gathered to brainstorm for the propos. Beetee and Finnick she’d known loosely for years through the Games. Boggs often had his little boy with him in the dining hall. She’d scarcely spoken with Dalton from District 10 or Katniss’s friend Leevy, but at least ther faces were familiar.

Greasy Sae worked in the kitchen during mealtimes, otherwise Effie would have enjoyed her company. Her lively presence was one of the saving graces of “kitchen duty.”

And there was Haymitch.

At breakfast that morning, she sat alone. The food was tasteless as usual. She stirred mashed beets into porridge, creating a bright pink swirl. At least her meal would have some semblance of beauty.

At 7:15 a tray plopped down next to hers. “Morning, sweetheart.” He looked cold in his knit hat and sweater. His bloodshot eyes avoided hers, but he was here.

“You want coffee...” she said knowingly.

“Whiskey first. Or preferably both together, if you’re offering.”

“We’ll have to pretend.” She clinked her plastic water cup against his. “Cheers.”

He finally looked at her. In this light, her eyebrows were golden like the hair she concealed under that kerchief. He wanted to trace them with his fingertips. Why hadn’t he done that last night?

“Did you sleep?” she asked.

“More than usual.” He wanted to touch her. Could he touch her here? When they were making their rules, they hadn’t talked about this part. “I was worn out from the... unscheduled exercise.”

“Is that what that was?” She leaned toward his ear and whispered, “My hips are marked black and blue with your fingerprints.”

His expression changed. He slid an arm around her waist and rested his hands lightly on her hip bones. “Here?”

His face was close to hers. The cut on his lip was starting to knit itself together. She wanted to kiss him. Could she kiss him here? When they were making their rules, they hadn’t talked about this part. “Yes... I’ll live.”

Her echoing his words from the night before only added to the feeling of intimacy. He brushed his thumbs along her hips, offering a gentle apology; even though she was the one who had asked for roughness.

She dropped her hand to his thigh. “I like having your fingerprints on me.”

“I had a good time.”

“I had SUCH a good time.”

“Want to do it again—“

“What’s this about good times?” Finnick arrived with two breakfast trays. Annie’s hand was tucked in the crook of his elbow. He set the trays on the table directly across from Haymitch and Effie. He pulled a chair out for Annie, then sat beside her.

“It looks like we’re having a little reunion here...” Haymitch grinned at Finnick and left his hands right where they were on Effie’s hips despite her letting go of his thigh and returning to her meal. “...Annie, you’re looking lovely.”

Their his-and-hers hospital gowns had been replaced with standard District 13 clothing.

“Indeed, it is WONDERFUL to see you both — together.” Effie fidgeted, uncomfortable now with Haymitch touching her so personally in front of his friends and her associates.

“Annie, my love, you remember Effie Trinket? And Haymitch of course.”

“Effie...” Annie took a moment to place the name. “Oh! I didn’t recognize you. You look so... beautiful.”

Welling tears made Effie’s eyes shine bright blue. Unadorned and dressed in these rags, she hadn’t expected anyone would find her beautiful, let alone give voice to such sentiment. “Thank you, my dear. YOU are the beautiful one. That hair is absolutely divine.”

Finnick beamed as he held Annie’s hand, “Can I tell them?” he asked and she nodded. “She’s going to be a beautiful BRIDE very soon.”

“Ohh!” Effie clasped her hands together and held them in front of her chest. “You’re getting married! This is DELIGHTFUL news.”

At the mention of marriage, Haymitch let go of Effie’s hips. Having sex with someone he cared about was feeling dangerous enough. Marriage was a whole other species that he wanted nothing to do with. That said, he couldn’t help but feel a moment of lightness. He reached forward to clap Finnick’s shoulder. “I’m glad, kid. Nobody deserves a good thing more than you two.”

A slyness slipped into Finnick’s smile as he glanced from Haymitch to Effie and back again. “Other people deserve good things too.” For years he’d observed them shooting barbs at one another, holding each other’s hands each time one of their tributes died, lifting one another up through his drunkenness and her disappointed hopes.

“You and Effie?” Finnick had asked him years ago. “...Too complicated,” had been Haymitch’s response.

Noticing Finnick’s scrutiny, Effie cleared her throat. “Well, look at the time! It’s my turn to be a *servant of the masses.* Congratulations, dears. I look forward to seeing you all later.” She looked intently at Haymitch before moving toward the kitchen.

When she passed through the doorway, Finnick poked him in the arm. “You LIKE her.”

Haymitch said nothing. He could feel the corners of his mouth start to creep up, and he shoved them back down again.

“You’ve never had much of a poker face.” Then Finnick said to Annie. “When he’s got a good hand, he has too many tells. He definitely likes her.”

Annie was glowing like late morning sun lifting up over the woods.

Haymitch had played enough poker with Finnick to know it was pointless to protest his assessment. “It’s like liking a cat,” he admitted, “One minute they’re all soft and purring. And the next, they’re hissing and scratching your eyes out.”

“Or your lip maybe?” Finnick’s eyes were twinkling mischief. Flecks of light on a green sea.

“Alright, alright. Eat your porridge.”

***

8:00—Command. Plutarch and Coin were in the thick of discussion when Effie arrived. She waited unobtrusively just outside the room, hearing only pieces of their conversation.

“My soldiers are occupied with intense training which does not include *walks in the woods*.”

“Forgive my assumption, but soldiers would likely shovel fallen leaves at random and lop off branches without finesse or discernment. We need someone with artistic flair.”

“Effie Trinket will have to make due with the foliage within the exercise yard and along its perimeter.”

“The yard is small. Those limited trees will not provide the diversity of colors and shapes we need for a truly festive propo. This propo is KEY to reaching into the minds of the citizens of the Capitol. Surely regulations can be flexed so a handful of civilians can spend their exercise time gathering vegetation in a small section of the woods.”

“I hear your perspective. But I cannot authorize a full security detail to supervise the equivalent of *berry picking*.”

“Madam President, may I remind you that you agreed to decorations. To honor the spirit of that agreement, those decorations must actually be decorative.”

“What do you propose?”

“Two security guards for two hours, a 100-yard radius, with four civilians wearing tracker anklets and communicators.”

“I’ll allow the two hour shift for a single security guard, a 50-yard radius, and two civilians working in tandem. Any additional foliage you need must be gathered from within the yard.”

Plutarch opened his mouth to negotiate further, but decided against it when he noticed Effie near the doorway. “Ah, Miss Trinket, just the person we’re looking for.”

Effie stepped inside, carrying herself with grace to hide her lingering concern that she’d been called to the *principal’s office* for doing something wrong. “I’m grateful to be at your service. All this dishwashing lately has been MURDER on my hands.”

Coin stood up, signaling an end to her discussion with Plutarch. He followed as she greeted Effie. “Hopefully your hands can be resurrected, because we’ll be needing them over the next few days.”

“Fortunately, resurrection is one of my specialties!”

“Well, that’s something we have in common.” Coin always took the last word, though she never showed overt pleasure in doing so. The president was clearly adept at concealment. The stillness of her hair was uncanny. Stoic even. Maybe it’s a wig after all, Effie thought. The nerve of this woman.

“Madam President, please excuse us.” Plutarch nodded to her. “Miss Trinket, let’s walk.”

He led Effie to an elevator and pressed a button. She watched the lights as they descended to who knows where. “Are you taking me to the dungeon?” she asked.

“It’s all dungeon; isn’t it.” As ever, he was aware of his audience, “Though some places here are less... unpleasant than others.”

The elevator opened up into a zig-zagging corridor flanked by rooms full of technology. The end of the maze was marked by light, lustrous enough to resemble sunshine.

They entered a large room steeped in stillness, interrupted periodically by the flitting chatter of hummingbirds. The floor was dotted with planters full of grass. Several trees carried Effie’s eyes upward to an elaborate ceiling. The architecture was austere yet beautiful. She drew a breath and held it in awe. If this dungeon had a cathedral, then this surely was it. “What is this place?”

“Special Defense. A fitting name for the site of our ultimate propo... the wedding of Annie Cresta and Finnick Odair. The details are being arranged as we speak. Do you feel up to the task of coordinating some of those details?”

His words filled her with a sense of purpose. She could have hugged Plutarch! She could have skipped around the nearest tree like a girl. With a lifetime of rehearsed restraint, she walked to the center of the room and turned methodically in a circle, observing the entirety of the space.

“I do!”

Plutarch smirked. “You realize that YOU are not the bride?”

Effie glared at him. “Don’t be ridiculous! I DO want to help coordinate. When Katniss left for District 2, I was relegated to the work of a peasant!”

“Apparently nobody avoids chores here. Even the president.”

“I have yet to see HER with a broomstick... outside of metaphor, that is.”

“Careful. I believe 13 is bringing out your natural color.”

“Well, it’s all I have in this fortress of gray! The grass and trees add a gorgeous splash of green to this glorious room, but these cement walls are atrocious.”

“I agree. Coin is allowing them to be decorated with fall foliage. Beetee assures me that a few spools of old wire and aging adhesive tape can be repurposed for making garlands. Have you made garlands before?”

“Of course! Decorating is one of my talents! Not that there has been much opportunity for it down here, to put it mildly.”

“Coin will make a public announcement, requesting volunteers to assemble the decorations later this afternoon.”

“This afternoon?! It’s a great deal to pull together so quickly!”

“Time is of the essence. Tomorrow a hovercraft will take Katniss and Annie to District 12 in order to select clothing for the bride and groom.”

“Ohh...” Effie whispered with even greater reverence than she felt at the sight of the ceiling. “...Cinna and Portia’s closets.”

“Yes. Katniss asked permission for you to accompany them to help the bride with her fashion decisions. Her request was approved, but the choice whether or not to go with them is yours. I’ll be honest; 12 is a gruesome place right now.”

Fire bombed. Thousands of people dead. For weeks Effie had imagined the reasons Haymitch knew he couldn’t face it sober. The images her mind conjured were disturbing.

“Katniss would not have asked for my assistance if she didn’t need it. ...Of course I’ll go. I will always be there for my victors.”

Plutarch assessed her. “You may regard yourself as a reluctant rebel, but it’s clear to me where your loyalties lie.”

“Is it?” Effie’s question was genuine. Loyalty was a concept she didn’t contemplate. Doing her job, whatever that may be, was important to her. The people she cared about were important to her. For a while, she’d felt increasingly tugged in opposite directions. She was still trying to hold herself together.

“I trust you’ll figure that out in time.”

“Plutarch, do you EVER give a straightforward answer?”

“Yes,” he said simply.

She shook her head, half amused and half annoyed.

“I have people setting up three hundred chairs in here later this morning. The film crew will work with them on optimal placement in order to get the best angles. The propo will film the day after tomorrow. Wedding Day. I’ll need you to make sure the bride and groom look their best.”

“Now, THAT will be easy. They have tremendous natural beauty. They just need a little help smoothing out some rough edges.” Effie might have been tempted to describe their appearance as haggard, but when she’d observed them at breakfast, she could see that being deeply in love had a power to smooth out edges that lasers and makeup could not touch.

She felt a flash of envy and let it pass without holding on. She already had enough emotions to contend with. *Deeply in love* was a complication she did not need. She could feel herself standing upon a brink — a precipice with a red canyon below and warm wind rushing around her. Letting the wind take her would be so easy. And letting the wind take her would be the smashing death of everything she’d ever been.

I’m not ready for it.

She and Plutarch spent the next quarter hour discussing juxtaposition of color and shape, length and placement of garlands, positioning of the bride and groom. He’d already thought through each detail. He’s not just planning a propo. It’s almost as if he’s designing... an arena. Effie felt chills along her arms.

“This wedding, it’s not another... Hunger Games?” She began it as a statement, but it came out as a question. To her ears it sounded absurd, but her body clearly felt something she couldn’t wrap her mind around.

“There are different kinds of hungers; aren’t there? And games are always afoot.” Again, he was intentionally vague. “A person only needs to create the right atmosphere; then those hungers will emerge, and those games will play out of their own volition. Creating the atmosphere will be our collective task today.”

The goosebumps refused to subside. She suspected Plutarch would never be out of a job in any regime. “What do you need me to do?”

“You’ll notice this morning that you’re scheduled for two hours of exercise. You’ll be in the woods.”

“The woods?!” Effie enjoyed the natural world at a distance and contained, but nature up close was wild and daunting.

“A security guard will escort you. Coin gave approval for another civilian to work with you to gather vegetation. You’ll need a diversity and abundance of leaves, much more than can be found in the exercise yard. You’ll have only two hours, so make wise use of your time. Whatever you bring back is what the volunteers will have to work with this afternoon.”

“What is the plan for the afternoon?”

“Between the lunch and dinner shifts you’ll have use of the dining hall. Volunteers will show up to make the decorations. School will be done for the day, so expect citizens and refugees of all ages. Afterward, you’ll bring a number of volunteers back here to display the garlands as we’ve discussed.”

“Who will be helping me in the woods?”

“You can select anyone whose schedule for the day can be altered. No on-duty kitchen staff, hospital staff, or military personnel, and no minors. ...Who do you want?”

Who do I want?

A hummingbird hovered close. The feathers covering its throat shimmered like rubies, but the beating of its wings was the only sound she heard.

“If you don’t know who you want I can just assign someone.”

She silently cursed the prohibition of makeup here as her feelings showed scarlet on her cheeks before she’d even said his name.

“Miss Trinket, the clock is ticking.”

A ticking clock... this reminder of the last arena raised more goosebumps. When the chips were down, there was only one person in this fortress, maybe in the whole world, who she was comfortable with.

“I want Haymitch.”

“...Of course you do.”

#HayffieFics #hayffie #hayffie fanfiction #effie x haymitch #haymitch x effie #haymitch abernathy #effie trinket #thg #thg fanfiction #district 13 #plutarch heavensbee #alma coin #finnick odair #annie cresta #odesta #finnick and annie #effies mother #the hunger games

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everlarkficexchange · 4 years

Text

Unmasked ~ Thirty

Written by: ~ M ~

Prompt #88

Rating: E (Explicit) This fic will contain consensual sexual content; mild language; discussions of injuries, illness, and amputations in a historical setting; discussions of miscarriage; discussions of minor character suicide; references to non consensual sexual situations; minor character death.

My thanks to the moderators of @everlarkficexchange for always running an entertaining event, and for playing along with a little fun and mystery.

Dear readers, we have only one chapter left and then a brief epilogue.

Please enjoy the thirtieth chapter of this adventure. I apologize for the length of this one, but it could not be helped. Previous installments can be found here. Regards,

~ M ~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~ Chapter 30 ~~

I dream in vivid hues, of a blanket spread in a meadow, a feast laid out upon the faded red expanse. A girl with blue ribbons in her flaming hair laying on her back, a book held aloft over her face. The flowers bow in the wind, dancing and courting springtime airs. A girl with dark hair in a pink dress twirls amongst the tall green shoots of meadow grass. She hums to herself and then sings a few bars. A boy on chubby toddler legs attempts to join her and falls, his blonde curls shimmering in the warmth of sun. A blade of grass caresses my check and calls my name.

“Katniss, my pearl.”

I inhale and startle slightly, calming as I wrap my fingers around Peeta’s, and hold his touch against my cheek.

“Sorry, my love. I did not mean to wake you. You only looked so peaceful and happy that I…” he trails off and does not finish, withdrawing his hand and turning away from me.

“I meant to stay awake and wait for you,” I say and shift to sit up as Peeta sits on the edge of the bed. The lamp still burns as proof of my intention, the book I had been reading carelessly dropped on our sheets. I retrieve it and mark my page before setting it aside. His shoulders sag as he removes his boots. They land on the floor with dull, hollow noises. “Will you not call for Jeffries?”

“I can manage well enough without disturbing his sleep as well.” My heart warms at his consideration for others and I reach out to touch his back. There is no response to the caress.

“Is Mrs. Farrow well?”

“As well as can be expected, after more than thirty hours of child labor with a child who was breach.”

“Thirty hours?”

“They waited to summon me until her pains were undeniably regular. By then she had already been at labor for nearly eight hours.”

“She must be exhausted,” I say pathetically. Peeta only nods, his hands working the buttons on his waistcoat, his motions slow and laborious. I am almost afraid to ask, but I must. “And the child?”

“A son. Weighing perhaps seven pound. Remarkably healthy after such an arduous arrival.” He removes his waistcoat in a pained movement and tosses it across the room towards the sofa. I pluck at the coverlet, at a loss as to why he seems so distant.

“That is cause for celebration, is it not?”

“Indeed.” He stands then and removes the rest of his clothing without looking at me. He drags his night shirt on, sets aside his false leg, then sighs as he slides beneath the covers with me. I adjust my body to be close to him.

“Then why do you seem morose?” I ask and reach out to play with a lock of his hair.

“I am tired, Katniss. So very tired.”

“What would help?”

“Sleep.”

“Other than that?” I pry, determined that he will answer me.

“Nothing. Will you talk me to death or will you allow me sleep?” he bites out the words and my hand stops mid caress. He turns away from me, forcibly removing my touch from him. “Would you extinguish that light?”

I bite my lip and hold back tears. Why tears? I wage a mental battle, determining which would be more effective, braining him with a pillow or shouting at him that he is not the only one of us who has had a long and trying day. Either option would certainly be more effective than weeping.

Before I can decide what to do, he sighs. “Katniss…I am not myself. I am sorry. I should not be curt with you.”

He turns in the sheets again to face me, closing the distance between us and wrapping his arms about me. My anger still festers, although I am quickly losing my grasp on it.

“Peeta, you know—“

“I know. I am sorry. Tell me about your day and then perhaps I will be ready to speak of mine.” He takes my hand in his and lifts it to his lips. “I do not even wish to consider what dark places my mind would wander, had I not seen you this afternoon. Thank you for that.”

I hum in annoyance. “Most unfortunate. I do not wish to owe any sort of debt to Mr. Hawthorne.” With some prompting from Peeta, I explain that Mr. Hawthorne was the reason for our outing this afternoon. I wax perhaps overlong about his arrogance and disdain, for his obtuse views of Everdeen and how I intend to show him how wrong he is.

“I do not know how that will help us in the end, but it seems the best I can do for the tenants. At least Father took the more traditional view of entertaining and took the gentlemen to the study after dinner… did you eat, husband?”

“I managed something in the kitchens before I came up here.” I frett for a moment and he waves me off. “I’ve not the strength for another trip. Sustenance can wait until morning. It is good, though. What your father did. Then you were allowed a respite, however brief.”

I snort at this, but Peeta’s words do comfort me. He has a point. Since Mr. Hawthorne and his party brought no additional females to the house, I was not forced to play hostess the entire evening but allowed to relax in the company of Prim and Madge, at least for some time before the gentlemen interrupted our tranquil and intimate gathering.

“The strange thing is that as talkative as he was all afternoon, Mr. Hawthorne was equally as taciturn this evening. He hardly said a word unless asked a direct question.”

“It sounds as though I may have had the more enjoyable evening, in terms of the company we kept.”

“Madge saved the evening for me. What with Prim mooning over Mr. Rory Hawthorne and… Oh,” I groan and place a hand over my face. “I had no chance to speak with Madge.”

“Tomorrow,” Peeta says with a wide yawn. “For now… sleep.”

“What of you, husband? Will you not tell me of your troubles?” I needle him and kiss beneath his jaw. He releases a strained puff of air and squeezes his eyes shut tight.

“I am still unconvinced that I am suited to this. To being a doctor.”

“Why not? You are patient and skilled. You listen well and are keenly observant. Generous and kind–”

“And I am frightened.”

“Frightened?” I ask, incredulous. “Of what?” It is difficult to imagine Peeta, who so expertly wields his knife, has killed men in battle, who has mended others while under fire, who faced down a highwayman, as being afraid of a birthing.

“Mrs. Farrow is well but it was a near thing. Katniss…Katniss,” he moans and the sound is so tormented that it near breaks my heart. “I cannot lose you. Childbirth is such an ordeal, so often dangerous. I do not know what I would do if I lost you. I… I do not think I should be the surgeon delivering our child.”

“Your worries make sense,” I say, although my throat is choked with hot tears, even as I brush aside the ones he is so clearly trying and failing to keep inside his eyes. “You were the attending physician for the first time today, and it was not a smooth birth, but it came out all right.”

“With a great deal of luck,” he mutters.

I should soothe his doubts, but in this state, I am not certain that he would listen. “Hmmm. It appears that you suffer from unfounded doubts,” I say and he scoffs lightly. “As your devoted personal healer, I prescribe at least six hours spent abed with your wife. Perhaps half a dozen kisses, and tomorrow, a picnic.”

“And how do you propose I achieve these six hours of sleep when it is nearly dawn already?”

“By sleeping late,” I whisper and I bask in the brightness of his smile.

“We have guests.”

“Damn the guests. Madge can entertain them.”

Peeta yawns then and holds me tighter. I find his hair with my fingers again and begin to toy with the curls again, caressing his nape, kissing up and down his neck.

He rises up and a small squeak of surprise leaves me as he covers me with his body, my lips with his.

“I thought you were tired, husband.”

“I am. Not too tired to appreciate you, wife. I missed you today. You’ve a strength and courage I cannot match.”

“You flatter me shamelessly.”

“No. I love you shamelessly,” he whispers and I sigh into the kisses. “Let me drink of your courage, my pearl.”

I do not understand his need, only that I am somehow able to fill it, and so I kiss him. I kiss him until I am certain our lips shall be bruised in the morning and still I kiss him more. He holds his weight off of me with one arm, his leg holding me beneath his warmth and his other hand wandering the curves and valleys of my body. His fingers raise goose flesh and desire as they slowly slowly slide between my thighs. I relax beneath his touch, eager to feel his fingers on my intimate flesh.

“Papa,” a soft whisper reaches us as Peeta halts, his body rigid against mine and then he whirls around. I attempt to order my hair and halt the thundering of my heart, swallow back my frustration at the interruption of our passion to smile at Miranda.

She stands beside our bed in her night gown and slippers, her hair escaping the braid Sae attempted to give her tonight. She is twisting her fingers about and looking almost frightened.

“Papa,” she says again, “Is the baby here now? The one you went to take care of today?”

“Y-yes,” Peeta stutters.

“So you will be at home tomorrow?”

“Unless I am needed again. And I will have to go check on the mother and the new babe. Would you… would you like to go with me for that?”

“I would,” she nods and then turns to leave. Peeta’s entire body lurches towards her.

“Miranda,” he calls out and she spins back around, scrambling into the bed with us and straight into Peeta’s arms.

Somehow, the three of us end up in an embrace, a tangle of limbs and love, with Miranda’s hand on my belly. The babe pushes out against my womb then, hand or foot pressing back against Miranda’s hand. Her eyes widen and I smile at her.

Shortly after, I see Miranda back to her bed, insisting that Peeta remain in bed as he’s already removed his leg and I’ve already gotten some rest this night.

When I return to bed, Peeta grunts and I am convinced he has fallen asleep in my absence, even though he encompasses me in his embrace as I settle. I, however, am now wide awake. I lay there for a moment, touching him in the darkness, thinking on my dream, the one I was in the midst of when he woke me. I start singing, only a whisper of the melody. I grow drowsy and then finally follow Peeta into sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Even before we rise, Peeta is called away again, this time with a knock on the door. I drag myself to it to answer, ready to flay the intruder for disturbing our precious sleep, only to be met with worried eyes and frantic words.

An entire family that has fallen ill. Feverish and with rashes. Fear of measles makes Peeta hasty in leaving me. He pauses only to explain to Miranda that it is not wise for her to accompany him today, if it does indeed turn out to be measles. She is disappointed, but insists that she understands.

“Your husband is absent again today?” Mr. Hawthorne asks as we ride across Everdeen much later, in search of a place to picnic. Peeta returned after seeing to the ill family, only long enough to bathe and change his clothes, to prevent the spread of disease when he went to attend the new mother and her babe. He’s had no time for guests today.

“I think it noble of him. Admirable,” Rory states. “Rather than leaving the tenants to fester in squalor and disease as some would, the family has found a way to see to their needs quickly, providing a capable surgeon, no less!”

I send Rory a grateful glance and Prim is especially pleased. Mr. Hawthorne turns away from this comment and asks Madge a question about Diablo. I do not hear it, but I do hear her answer.

“He is not mine. I’ve only the use of him while I stay with Katniss and her family.”

“You’ve a question about one of my horses, Mr. Hawthorne?” I ask.

“He no doubt is inquiring after potential studs, are you not, Gale?” Mr. Fremont says, bringing his horse close to Gale’s.

“You know that I am,” Gale states rather curtly before turning to me. “One venture I have long wished to embark on is a horse farm. I only recently find myself in a position for it to be feasible.”

“And you’ve your eye on Diablo as a potential stud? He’s not for sale, nor up for inheritance,” I say simply.

“Everything is for sale, for the right price, Mrs. Mellark. But I must admit you have several prime stallions in your stable. Perhaps you might consider a stud fee for them. In that way, you and I could both achieve what we desire.”

“I doubt that our desires could ever be reconciled, Mr. Hawthorne,” I state and immediately regret it based on the scowl he sends me. Oh, I am failing so miserably at earning his good graces and yet I cannot seem to help myself. There is something about him that grates on me, or perhaps it is simply this power that he will hold over me one day. His position to inherit my home.

“Where would you set up such a venture?” Madge asks, and I am grateful for her diverting his attention.

“Oh I’ve a few prospects, although I am still in negotiations. So many landowners are loathe to part with their holdings for anything less than a ridiculous sum, even when they find themselves mired in debts.”

“Patience and perseverance,” Mr. Fremont states and I bite my tongue.

Thankfully, we approach the pond on the border between Everdeen and Undersee lands before more can be said. All agree that this is an excellent prospect for our picnic.

Madge assists me in lowering myself to the blanket and I squeeze her hand. “Are you certain this is acceptable?”

Her eyes flick towards the ruins of her old home, the manor overrun now with vines and foliage, reclaiming the stone for the earth.

“I will be alright. I suppose I must face it at some time, especially if I intend to do anything with it. What about you?”

“Madge,” I whisper, “There is something we need to speak about.”

“Is the lake stocked?” Mr. Fremont interrupts and Madge turns to him with a smile.

“It was last I was here, five years ago. The fish have been left quite alone since then.”

“Some of Everdeen’s tenants may have availed themselves of a few fish,” I admit and give an apologetic look to Madge. She places a hand on mine and then continues to set up the feast we’ve brought.

“Does that anger you, Mrs. Mellark? I am curious…what is the punishment for poaching on Everdeen?”

“A turned cheek and an adjustment to either taxes or payments, Mr. Hawthorne. We’re farmers, not tyrants here,” I say happily and smile at him. “I have no wish to begrudge a family a few fish or a hare caught in a time of need.”

Mr. Hawthorne tilts his head and says something to Mr. Fremont that I do not hear, but I do see that his scowl has shifted somehow. Perhaps Mr. Hawthorne can in fact be reasoned with after all.

“I’ve no idea what the occasional fishing would do to the population,” Madge says as she rises and approaches the gentlemen. “Perhaps we shall simply have to make an attempt at catching a fish to find out.”

It quickly becomes apparent that she will stay near them and converse while they attempt some fishing. I resign myself to not speaking to her yet and to reading my book, as Prim also seems to prefer Rory’s company close to the lakeshore.

Miranda and Maysilee wander over to the ruins and climb about them. Laughter is bright in the air. At one point, I catch Mr. Hawthorne smiling and the expression changes his face entirely.

It makes me think again on my tactic, of showing to him how Everdeen is not the squalor and hopeless destitution of so many other similar estates. I care about our tenants. Peeta cares about them. My father has always cared about them. We are not in the business of crushing anyone beneath our boots, nor of squeezing every penny possible out of them.

Eventually, the day fades and we return home for dinner, with a handful of fish the gentlemen have caught, which are promptly delivered to the kitchens. I am grateful to have Peeta with us for dinner as we dine on the fish. Even though the presence of guests necessitates that he not sit beside me, his mere presence helps calm me and I am able to entertain rather well, I believe.

Even later, as I wander past the study door and catch a few words of heated political discussion, I am not overly angry. I may be forbidden from the conversation because of our guests, but I know that my husband will represent us both well.

The discussion seems to continue over chess that evening, when Mr. Hawthorne seems to be taken with a desire to play. I smirk and hide my glee behind my book. Mr. Hawthorne has no idea what he is in for. My kind, patient husband is a master strategist and deliciously devious at times. The game drags into the evening, and although there are other entertainments, music and singing with Madge and Prim providing the bulk of the merriment, my attention is riveted to Peeta.

“Your husband is fond of chess?” Mr. Fremont asks as he settles beside me.

“Yes, he is,” I answer easily. “Are you Mr. Fremont? Or do you share your associate’s obsession with the horse?”

“Not nearly so, I am afraid. I’ve always been fond of a good riddle or a harmless jest. Gale is much more business minded. I am merely a friendly face who assists in helping place others at ease in his presence.”

“He does seem rather formidable,” I mutter and flip my page, leaving my finger behind because I truly did not read the entirety of the text.

“He can be, but…would you believe if I told you he is truly tender-hearted and exceptionally loyal? He cares a great deal for others, and those who are close to him receive the best of protections.” I make a disbelieving noise and Mr. Fremont lowers his head. “He is a rather sore loser, however.”

My eyes glance over the chess board and I smile slightly. “Then I think he is about to dislike my husband as much as he dislikes me.”

“He does not dislike you, Mrs. Mellark. He is simply…uncertain as to how to interact with you.”

“Hmmmm…suggesting that I have neglected my tenants is a grievous misstep, if that is the case.”

“Ah, well that may be faulted to his passionate nature. At times, he speaks without remembering to whom he speaks. He means no harm by it, only possesses the belief that his views are more common sense than opinion, which makes him overly vocal at times.”

“Such poor manners.”

“Well when you put it that way, I suppose he can be a bit of a boor,” Mr. Fremont says with a chuckle. “How badly is he about to lose? I do not know much about chess. Perhaps I should learn.”

“Are you certain Mr. Hawthorne is a fair player? He is about to lose shamefully fast.” Mr. Fremont hums.

“I’ve been led to believe he is quite skilled at it.”

“Perhaps he is distracted. I’m sure the prospect of seeing a fine horse can do that to him.” Mr. Fremont’s fingers clench rather tightly on the stem of his glass of brandy and he tosses the rest of it back with a high sort of flush on his cheeks.

“Yes. Easily distracted. Nothing more.”

“Checkmate,” Peeta murmurs, removing his fingers from his queen. Mr. Hawthorne glowers and then…miraculously laughs. He reaches out a hand and congratulates Peeta on the game.

“There are not many who can best me so quickly,” Mr. Hawthorne states. Mr. Fremont coughs rather loudly, drawing the gazes of the two men from across the room.

“I believe I shall turn in,” Mr. Fremont says.

“Yes,” Mr. Hawthorne agrees and waves carelessly. “Another game, Mr. Mellark?”

“I’m afraid I must decline. It has been two rather long days of work for me.”

“Your stallion…”

“I shall make my morning rounds swift and have time to show him to you in the afternoon,” Peeta states. “Will that suffice?”

“I look forward to it,” Mr. Hawthorne says.

Peeta stands from the table and I set my book aside, looping my arm with his as we leave together. As we turn the corner, I am certain that I feel eyes boring into the back of my head.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Is this the flower you spoke of? Before we were married?” Peeta asks as I sit waiting between the covers. He spins the bloom between his fingers and gazes with wonder at the orange petals.

“It is,” I answer. I placed it in a glass filled with water the day that I asked Rory to pick it from the meadow. Peeta and I have both been so occupied since then that I’d nearly forgotten, and he’d not noticed until tonight.

“So soft and delicate. Beautiful,” he murmurs and meets my gaze. The heat I see in his blue eyes captures my breath and gives it back to me in a racing heartbeat. “Thank you, my love.”

“I knew you would like it,” I tease him. “You’ve a weakness for beautiful things.”

“Having an eye for beauty is no weakness, my love,” he says and then climbs atop the bed, the flower still clenched in his fingers. “Except perhaps when it comes to you.”

He is so close, his eyes hooded as he sets the flower on my lips and traces them carefully. “Soft petals to soft petals… take off your gown.”

His last words are not soft and I shiver but remove the garment with haste. Then… then there is no haste but there is great beauty in the way he loves me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the morning, I am feeling empowered and well rested. Facing Mr. Hawthorne across the breakfast table is not such a chore with the memories of Peeta’s lips on me, his arms surrounding me, his whispered promises and the petals of my gift for him caressing my ears and bringing us to climax so swiftly.

After, he had placed the flower back in its glass with a sweet smile on his face, and I knew that I would forever be searching for gifts such as this. An orange flower, a set of paintbrushes, a favored book, to bring a smile to his face and his kisses to my lips.

I catch Mr. Hawthorne staring at me in an unnerving manner, near enough to rude to warrant my returning his stare with a scowl until Mr. Fremont elbows him and Mr. Hawthorne finally looks away.

“Wedded bliss becomes you,” Madge whispers. “Or perhaps it is pending motherhood that becomes you. Either way, there is jealousy afoot this morning.”

“I cannot imagine why,” I mutter back and she glances at me then away with such speed.

“Can’t you?”

“Madge…we never spoke the other day–”

“What are the plans for today, Mrs. Mellark?” Mr. Hawthorne interrupts and I grind my teeth. To think that I was starting to find him tolerable or at least reasonable last night. “How shall we entertain ourselves until Mr. Mellark returns with that magnificent beast of his?”

“Perhaps a visit to Seam and the village.”

“Excellent.” The plans decided, we scatter to prepare.

Primrose and Rory decide to remain at home, with Mother and Father. Dr. Aurelius is feeling well enough to have accompanied Peeta in attending to their patients this morning. Mr. Fremont begs off on riding with us, claiming a rough night of sleep.

With our diminished party, we set out for Seam, the three of us. I am not overly fond of sitting alone while Madge and Mr. Hawthorne ride ahead of me, conversing to one another. His presence has prevented me from speaking to her. Whenever the moment has felt opportune, he has either interrupted or she has escaped, making me wonder perhaps if she is avoiding me.

Could she know that I was outside the stables that night? All of my worries suddenly feel as though they are piling up on my head and so I am in a foul mood all through our shopping and tour of the village. The only good thing to come of it is how astonished Mr. Hawthorne is by the way Madge and I are both received.

“Did you find hints of uprising, Mr. Hawthorne? Unhappy villagers feeling the crushing weight of mistreatment and oppression?” I ask and Madge gives me an oddly quelling look. I shrug as he makes a noncommittal noise.

“No obvious hints, Mrs. Mellark. But it is spring.”

“Which immediately follows the leaner months of winter.”

“Perhaps,” he allows, and yet I fancy that there is something speculative, almost impressed in his eyes now. I dare not hope yet that my tactic is working however. As soon as we return to Everdeen, I am handed a note written in Peeta’s hand. I tear into it and reach for Madge.

“What is it?” she asks and I hand it to her as I hurry inside, ignoring her as she reads it aloud.

Harriet Nells lost this morning. ~P

No other words, only this brief sentence to tell me that the child he was tending, the one with the measles…is dead.

“Sae! Mrs. Chilton!” I shout as I move through the hall. Servants spring into action. My mother bundles herbs and sets out immediately with others to see to the cleaning and airing of the hut, the funeral arrangements as the parents are both still ill.

A child has been lost.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There is no mention of horses, nor of inheritance. Even Mr. Hawthorne pitches in to help. The day fades into evening and all who left to assist slowly return to Everdeen. The child has been bathed and dressed. The grave has been dug and Father Crane called upon. She will be buried in the morning.

I sit on the verandah, listening to the evening bugs and waiting for my husband, wondering that he stays away. Johanna stops to check on me and places a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

“He’ll not take it well. Losing one so young. So needlessly.”

All I can do is nod and wonder at my husband’s mental state. Eventually, Johanna leaves me to my vigil and another arrives. A cleared throat causes me to turn my head and look askance at Mr. Hawthorne.

“I beg leave to intrude, Mrs. Mellark.”

“It will be your verandah one day,” I say simply and turn my gaze back to the lane.

“Yes. About that…it has occured to me that I may have erred in my initial assessment of Everdeen.”

I snort and bite at my thumb nail. Where is Peeta?

“You see, as much as I love my brother, he can be rather naive and kind hearted.”

“I fail to see how that is a flaw.”

“Perhaps the flaw was mine. I did not entirely believe him when he first described Everdeen. It made little sense. A welcoming farm of middling importance and small operation allowing so many to wander here in need. And you…rushing off to Capitol to seek a husband and a fortune to secure your future. Naturally, I assumed you must be hiding some sort of dire financial situation.”

“If this is an attempt at an apology, Mr. Hawthorne, you fail miserably,” I state and he laughs. Actually laughs.

“Perhaps so.” He carefully sweeps back the tails of his coat and sits beside me. “May I speak freely?”

“Make yourself at home, Mr. Hawthorne,” I state with an imperious look and he cannot hold my gaze. “As you’ve repeatedly noted the past few days, it will all be yours one day anyways.”

“It is precisely that which I wish to speak with you about.”

I sigh and wait for him to continue. He will continue unprompted if he has something to say, I have discovered.

“I feel as though you and I have gotten off on the wrong foot.”

“Whatever gave you that impression.”

“Mr. Fremont for one, and for another… Lady Charmaigne.” I hum and he again clears his throat. “There are other factors as well. You must understand, I’d reason to doubt Rory’s description of this place.”

“Then why trust him to the task?”

“I was unable to travel here. I was… needed elsewhere. And as I said, I was in disbelief that you, who seemed so sensible and practical, level headed and forthright in your letters, would rush off to secure a stranger as a husband. Why bring an unknown into the equation when a perfect option that would see everyone’s needs met was right in front of you, given how keen you seem to retain Everdeen.”

“You talk in riddles, Mr. Hawthorne. Of course I wish to retain my home. What human with a heart would not?”

“Apologies. That would be Darius’ influence, I am afraid,” Mr. Hawthorne states with that smile that transforms his face. “You see, Mrs. Mellark, it’s been made apparent to me that it is time I take a wife. My first and obvious choice would have been you, since I cannot be present at all of my properties at once and you would have made an excellent and knowledgeable steward.”

“Pray, do not flatter me so,” I say even though I know I should hold my tongue. Besides, I’ve gone utterly cold at his words.

“A marriage between us would have solved all your troubles. You however, chose to do otherwise and somehow, despite the haste of it all, managed to secure a marriage to the son of a marquis anyways. I congratulate you on your excellent catch, by the way.”

“You’ve no need to tell me how fortunate I am in marriage. I am well aware of it.”

“Yes, but the simple truth of it is, your needs in terms of Everdeen would have been met more swiftly had you been patient and instead married me. It was in fact my intention to do so and I think that now that we are acquainted, your own haste annoys you.”

I glare at him. How dare he!

“I am…accustomed to speaking plainly and am told that sometimes this makes me appear abrasive. I do however hope that we are able to put that aside in future and work together towards a solution that is acceptable to both of us. I’ve no desire to toss such a welcoming family out in the cold.”

“Well,” I state, the rancor dripping off my tongue. “As you pointed out, I managed to snare myself an exceptionally excellent catch. His wealth ensures that I will not be cold, even if you should toss me out of my home.”

I’ve more to say, but the sound of hooves on the gravel and the snort of Cicero reaches me then. I excuse myself and hurry past Mr. Hawthorne. Peeta sways precariously in his saddle and I gasp as he nearly falls. Jo and Charles are swift to respond and manage to halt his descent, but it is Mr. Hawthorne who manages to safely see him to the ground, albeit laying down.

“Peeta,” I say frantically and check him over for injuries. He appears merely dazed and exhausted. I scold myself for not realising sooner how close to despair he was getting. “Peeta look at me.”

“Katniss,” he murmurs. “I lost…”

“I know. There was nothing else you could have done.”

“Wasn’t there?” he asks bitterly.

“Do not torment yourself so, at least not on the front stairs.” Others have joined us now and I give directions to have him carried to the bathing room. Charles to take care of Cicero. I demand Jo accompany us. I’ve no need to say the words, though. She is there without question.

“Thank you, Mr. Hawthorne, we will see to him from here,” I state and push him out of the bathing room once Peeta has been deposited. He makes to protest and I shut the door in his face before turning back to my husband and guiding the procedure of seeing him undressed and into the steaming tub.

“Have you seen him like this before?” I whisper to Jo as I wash his hair.

“Only the once,” Johanna whispers. “When he could not save Daniel Merritt. The boy…he was seventeen and newly married. Shot through his throat. Then…while Peeta was trying to stop the bleeding… the enemy grabbed Daniel’s foot, dragged him away and shot him in the gut. Peeta… followed and got too close to their line…” she trails off and I do not ask for the rest. I merely point to his scarred ribs and she nods.

We work together, and by the time we have him clean and the water drained, he is lucid again, although silent. He obeys my words as I order him out of the tub and dried. It is a bit of a trick, getting him upstairs with his leg already removed, but my father lends assistance.

Once we are left alone, I begin the longest vigil of my life.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the morning, Peeta is staring at me. “You think me weak.”

“I think you care far more than a human heart should be expected to bear,” I whisper.

“You do not understand.”

“Perhaps not. Perhaps I never can. But I do know that however many you have lost, there are dozens more that you saved, and will save. The boy you brought into the world only days ago. Mrs. Farrow. There will be more. Do not deprive them before they’ve had a chance to survive under your care.”

He almost laughs at that and then shakes his head. “You’ve a way with words, wife.”

“I learned from you, husband, and only give to you what you have given to me.”

“And what have I given to you?”

“Hope.”

“There is no hope in the Nells household right now.”

“Of course not. Not yet. But there will be. It will take time, and great care, but life can be good again some day, even for them. Even for you.” I stretch across the bed and press a soft kiss to his lips. “And now, I mean to distract you from your worries.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I’ve little luck in distracting Peeta the next day. We are somber as we travel to the church, dressed in dark clothes and silent through the funeral. Peeta remains withdrawn the rest of the day after, no matter what I do to cajole him out of it. Eventually, I desist and settle for holding his hand in mine whenever possible. Holding him in my arms as we sleep that night. I wish for this awful day to end, and although I am granted my wish, I still wish that it had not been so long. I cannot imagine the pain Mr. and Mrs. Nells must be experiencing, especially now that Peeta says they are on the mend.

Two days after the funeral, we are to resume pleasantries and entertainments. The day dawns warm and sunny in cooperation. Peeta left our room before I even woke and I worry about him.

“Ah, Mrs. Mellark,” Mr. Fremont greets me when I leave the house after breakfast. “May I accompany you?”

“I am only headed to the stables,” I say and he falls into step beside me. I hate to snub him, he seems an amiable and kind enough sort, and yet I have decided that since I’ve not been able to pin Madge down to a discussion, that I shall confront Johanna.

“Your company will brighten the day,” he states and I can’t help the smile or the blush.

“You flatter a married woman, Mr. Fremont.”

“Tis no crime to acknowledge beauty. Your husband, I am sure, would agree with me.”

I am momentarily cheered by the flattery, although I know I should put a stop to it immediately. I do not feel as though Mr. Fremont means any harm by it, although now I will need to find a way to lose him if I am to speak with Johanna. I am still searching for excuses when we enter the stables, only to find ourselves intruding on a demonstration.

I am both annoyed and relieved at the sight that greets me.

“Magnificent. Such a powerful beast,” Mr. Hawthorne states with great awe as Peeta holds Cicero by the bridle for inspection. Madge and Johanna are nowhere to be found and I come to stand beside Mr. Hawthorne and listen to their discussion. He glances at me and then clears his throat. “Who is his sire?”

“Cicero has no famous sire,” Peeta says.

“I suppose his lineage is from ancient destriers, then.”

“His lineage is uncertain. He’s something of a mutt.”

“And how is he at obeying commands? Obedient, I hope,” Gale says with admiration.

“In a way,” Peeta says with a smile and then touches Cicero on his neck, the way I know now that Cicero takes as a command to bow. He does so.

“Extraordinary. Verbal commands?” Peeta shakes his head.

“No, I’m afraid not.”

“Cicero cannot hear, Mr. Hawthorne. He responds purely to touch,” I interrupt.

“Does he now?” Mr. Hawthorne says. His gloved fingers flex in an odd way and he smiles as Peeta steps to fasten Cicero’s saddle.

Nimble fingers pluck his gloves from his hands as Mr. Hawthorne motions towards Cicero.

“Might I at least give a try? He is most extraordinary.” Peeta obliges, but Mr. Hawthorne cannot seem to gain a response from Cicero, even with Peeta’s guidance on how the commands work.

“Stubborn or…”

“Merely well trained,” Peeta contradicts.

“You’ll have little luck, Mr. Hawthorne. Cicero and my husband are kindred spirits. His deafness necessitates that he respond to a very specific touch, and only that touch.”

“So how does he respond to other riders, Mrs. Mellark? Does he enjoy them or torment them?”

The question confuses me, as well as its direction at me. “I’ve never had problems with him, but he is familiar with me. If you’re looking to try a horse from our stables rather than your own mount, perhaps Guinivere. She is docile enough to adjust to any number of riders.”

“Not today, I think,” Mr. Hawthorne says dismissively, eyes still fixated on Cicero. “I find that a stallion provides a more…vigorous ride. Don’t you, Mr. Mellark?”

“I’ve not ridden many mares, so I’ve no comparison,” Peeta says.

“Indeed?” Mr. Hawthorne asks, and he sounds a little overly excited for the subject. Mr. Fremont must have underestimated Mr. Hawthorne’s interest in horses to me the other day. “Shall we then, Mr. Mellark? I am eager to see him in action.”

“We’ve plans already, Gale,” Mr. Fremont states. Mr. Hawthorne turns to him and scowls slightly.

“Can they not be rearranged?”

“We are guests,” Mr. Fremont reminds him. “We should not cause so much trouble.”

“It is no trouble,” Peeta says and I smile at him. He returns the expression. There’s a strange shyness in his gaze and I wink at him, making him blush.

Mr. Hawthorne ends our flirtations with another attempt at gaining obedience from Cicero. Blessed, loyal horse that he is, Cicero snorts and sidesteps, agitated with the unfamiliar touch and then immediately calmed at Peeta’s.

“Apparently he does not wish another rider,” Mr. Fremont states.

“Here you are, Mr. Hawthorne,” Charles interrupts as he presents Mr. Hawthorne’s horse, already saddled. “All ready for you.”

“Excellent. A hard ride is exactly what I think we all need this morning. Darius, shall you join us?”

“Am I welcome to?”

Mr. Hawthorne flicks his gaze at Mr. Fremont and then smoothly mounts his horse. Darius mutters under his breath and quickly moves to join them. It is only as I follow on foot, Peeta mounted on Cicero that I spot Madge in the courtyard. She too is mounted on Diablo and I scowl at how they’ve managed to exclude me. The cart has not been ordered.

I am festering in annoyance until Peeta circles back to me and, halting Cicero with a particular press of his knees, leans over in the saddle. Despite the audience, Peeta’s gloved hand threads through my hair and he kisses me.

I suck in a sharp breath at the blatant display, but I cannot stop my heart pounding faster and louder than galloping hooves. I cling to the sleeves of his coat and when he lifts his head again, I am breathing in a ridiculous fashion.

He smiles at me, and whispers against my lips before he turns Cicero. “You deserve a break from entertaining, my love. I haven’t forgotten, you know. I am still the luckiest bastard in the world.”

I watch him riding away as long as possible.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The days fly by. Nearly the whole seven night has passed and soon the Mr.’s Hawthorne will depart. I cannot say that I am upset over it, and yet something foreboding hangs over my head. There are days when Mr. Hawthorne barely speaks, silently observing all he sees. There are others when he rants interminably, and I wonder if it would be rude to stuff goose down in his meats to silence him. He is slightly more tolerable since our talk on the verandah. Although he still has yet to broach the subject again of a solution that would suit us both, at least he refrains from disparaging myself or Everdeen.

Thankfully, it is not all dire news. Miranda blooms, speaking more freely and laughing with great joy. Primrose and Rory appear to have solidified their courtship. Father has given his approval for it to continue into the season Prim will attend come winter.

And yet…I still have not managed an audience with Madge. She is perpetually busy or absent and even Maysilee has expressed concern in her behaviour.

Two days before our guests are to depart, I hide myself away in the garden to read, delighted when Madge joins me, her footsteps steady on the gravel.

“Madge, finally,” I say as I set aside my book. “We’ve need to talk.”

“Yes, we have,” she says and swallows. It is then that I notice how pale she is.

“Oh Madge, you know how I love you. You can tell me anything, whatever it is that troubles you.” I smile at her, surprised at the strength of her grip as she takes both my hands in hers and lifts her chin.

“And I hope you can forgive me anything as well.”

“Of course I can, but there is nothing to forgive” I insist. I am not prepared for it when she stares into my eyes and speaks.

“I am to marry Mr. Hawthorne next month.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To be continued…

The word you seek within this chapter may have more than one meaning in the world of The Hunger Games. A temptation of gift that draws Katniss forth seeking medicine, or a bounty of food. Here, it is laid upon a blanket for consumption.

#Springtime Edition 2019 #late submissions #m #prompt 88 #submission

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badlydrawndrawnings · 4 years

Text

i just remembered makoto canonically wears a hairband that resembles braids because soejima drew it in the artbook/confirm it in artbook.

so does that mean there’s a chance sae’s hair color is her...just dying it grey and i never got this piece of info?

i know it’s a stylish choice soejima did with few other character (p4/hero and akihiko), or what kaneko did as well (mark in p1), but i’m just thinking how grey is a realistic hair color, meaning there’s also a chance sae (and everyone else mention with grey hair) is premature grey they’re all under 30′s and 40′s when first introduced to them.

meaning there’s also a chance makoto will get hit with it too.

#persona 5 #makoto niijima #sae niijima #this is a text post

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psychicreadsgirl · 5 years

Text

October 2019 - December 2019 for Korean Entertainment Industry in General

I’ll do a Korean entertainment industry reading for the months of October to December 2019.

October soon is ending, but the sombreness of this month will continue till the end. There will be a few more unexpected news that will not be very happy to fans, either departures, breaks/hiatuses, injuries, or accidents. Some litigation will either have results or start and this would go through until November to mid December. The litigation may either be a celebrity suing someone for malicious comments or could be a celebrity suing their own agency or vice versa. It can even entail lawsuits involving personal injury, divorces, inheritances, fraud, copyright infringement, etc. Many cases will not be publicly broadcasted but there will be a lot in the works.

November will welcome many comebacks and be filled with much business. Lots of blood, sweat and tears coming from many groups, all fighting for the awards in their own ways. A couple of anticipated groups will be coming back during this time, rather last minute, up till December. They are purposely making last minute comebacks to gain more momentum for the upcoming awards such as the AMAs, MAMA, etc. Again, some celebrities may be forced to take hiatuses for various reasons like mental health/physical injury or pure discipline from their agency. There may be a few blossoming couples being publicized or rumored among SNS and among fans. I strongly feel there will be some sort of “dating” scandal coming for a few popular idols, leaked by different agencies for their own agendas. Some agencies leak other news on purpose for revenge.

November also marks a month where some groups are fighting amongst themselves and are trying to get their solos. I see a few groups close to breaking up in November but will drag on till possibly 2020 - 2021.

In December, there will be the typical award ceremonies. However, this time, some of the results of the awards will cause fan wars and cause people to wonder about manipulation of votes. Another popular show may be under examination of manipulation of votes from October - December. A reunion of an unexpected group may be seen in December. A few reunions will be delayed again till early next year or never again. Several holiday season songs will be released as well.

December will also be a time where we may see some departures from several celebrities. Unexpected news is a big theme for the months of November to December, and even January 2020. It’ll get everyone wondering, “wtf? how could this be? what? omggg!” December 2019 to January 2020 is really all about big changes for many celebrities’ career. Some at the top of their careers currently will plummet hard while others will change directions for their careers or take breaks. Some may disappear from the spotlight forever. Some news of enlistments to military will trickle in from November to December too. Some expected. Some very unexpected, almost too early for their career/age.

----

What has come true

October 25, 2019:

Seulgi from RV missing from performance and Yeri is injured: https://www.koreaboo.com/news/red-velvet-performs-without-seulgi-injured-yeri-fans-extremely-worried-two/

October 27, 2019:

Woojin leaves Stray Kids: https://www.koreaboo.com/news/jyp-entertainment-announces-woojin-withdraws-stray-kids-comeback-delayed/

October 28, 2019:

Minzy reportedly filed an injunction against her agency, the Music Works Entertainment: https://www.soompi.com/article/1362089wpp/minzy-reported-to-have-filed-an-injunction-to-suspend-contract-with-her-agency

October 28, 2019:

EXO announced that they will be making their November comeback: https://www.allkpop.com/article/2019/10/exoiscoming-trends-number-1-worldwide-after-sm-announced-exos-comeback-k-pop-fans-reactions

October 28, 2019:

Sunmi files lawsuits against malicious comments: https://www.allkpop.com/article/2019/10/sunmi-files-lawsuits-against-netizens-leaving-malicious-comments

October 29, 2019:

IOI’s Kyulkyung reportedly may also be unable to join reunion: https://www.allkpop.com/article/2019/10/iois-kyulkyung-zhou-jieqiong-may-also-be-unable-to-join-groups-reunion-promotions

October 30, 2019:

Popeye entertainment closes down: https://www.soompi.com/article/1362483wpp/yoon-kyun-sang-oh-na-ra-and-more-search-for-new-agency-as-popeye-entertainment-closes-down

October 30, 2019:

Monsta X’s Wonho caught in upcoming litigation for allegedly owing money to Jung Da Eun: https://www.allkpop.com/article/2019/10/jung-da-eun-reveals-text-messages-from-monsta-x-wonhos-lawyer-after-debt-allegations

October 30, 2019:

Dok2 confirmed to be underdoing tax investigation: https://www.soompi.com/article/1362657wpp/dok2-confirmed-to-be-undergoing-tax-investigation

October 30, 2019:

Rainbow announces their return amidst reports of 10th anniversary reunion: https://www.soompi.com/article/1362660wpp/rainbow-announces-their-return-amidst-reports-of-10th-anniversary-reunion

October 30, 2019:

Park Jihoon announces comeback in November and Asia tour: https://www.soompi.com/article/1362655wpp/park-ji-hoon-announces-comeback-with-new-album-and-tour

October 30, 2019:

Starship Entertainment announces they will take legal action for a rumour raised about Monsta X’s Wonho: https://www.soompi.com/article/1362480wpp/starship-entertainment-denies-rumor-about-monsta-xs-wonho-considering-legal-action

October 31, 2019:

Lee Yoobi to take legal action against malicious commenters: https://www.soompi.com/article/1362762wpp/lee-yoo-bi-announces-decision-to-take-legal-action-against-malicious-commenters

October 31, 2019:

Monsta X’s Wonho leaves Monsta X: https://www.soompi.com/article/1362744wpp/breaking-wonho-leaves-monsta-x

October 31, 2019:

Starship Entertainment clarifies rumors regarding Monsta X’s Shownu’s dating a married woman rumor: https://www.soompi.com/article/1362766wpp/starship-entertainment-clarifies-rumor-involving-monsta-xs-shownu

October 31, 2019:

Monsta X’s Wonho is allegedly facing illegal drug charges: https://www.allkpop.com/article/2019/10/jung-da-eun-further-claims-former-monsta-x-member-wonho-is-facing-illegal-drug-use-charges-in-dispatch-interview

October 31, 2019:

ASTRO confirms comeback in November 2019: https://www.soompi.com/article/1362946wpp/astro-confirms-plans-for-a-comeback

November 4, 2019:

BTS’ Jeon Jungkook questioned by the police after causing a traffic accident :https://www.koreaboo.com/news/bts-jungkook-questioned-police-after-causing-car-accident/

November 4, 2019:

Golden Child to make a comeback in November: https://www.koreaboo.com/stories/golden-child-make-comeback-november/

November 4, 2019:

Nam Taehyun closes his agency and signs his band to another agency: https://www.soompi.com/article/1363758wpp/nam-tae-hyuns-agency-discontinued-south-club-signs-with-new-agency

November 4, 2019:

Actor Hong Jong Hyun to enlist early next month: https://www.allkpop.com/article/2019/11/actor-hong-jong-hyun-to-enlist-early-next-month

November 6, 2019:

ACE’s Kim Byeong Kwan to sit out on savage promotions due to polyp removal: https://www.allkpop.com/article/2019/11/aces-kim-byeong-kwan-to-sit-out-on-savage-promotions-due-to-polyp-removal

November 9, 2019:

CL leaves YG Entertainment: https://www.jazminemedia.com/2019/11/cl-leaves-yg-entertainment-after-10-years/

November 12, 2019:

ASTRO’s Moonbin to take hiatus due to health issues: https://www.allkpop.com/article/2019/11/astros-moonbin-to-take-hiatus-due-to-health-issues

November 12, 2019:

2 AM’s Jinwoo and Nine Muses’ Kyung Li reportedly dating: https://www.allkpop.com/article/2019/11/2ams-jinwoon-nine-musess-kyung-li-reportedly-dating

November 13, 2019:

VIXX’s Leo to enlist as a public service worker on December 2nd, 2019 and opens up about panic disorder and depression in letter: https://www.allkpop.com/article/2019/11/vixxs-leo-to-enlist-as-a-public-service-worker-on-december-2-reveals-that-hes-suffering-from-panic-disorder-and-depression

November 13, 2019:

Ahn Joon Young PD partially admits to vote rigging on produce 101 seasons 1 and 2: https://www.allkpop.com/article/2019/11/ahn-joon-young-pd-partially-admits-to-vote-rigging-on-produce-101-season-1-2

November 14, 2019:

Seungri to enlist in military: https://www.allkpop.com/article/2019/11/seungri-to-enlist-in-the-military-as-burning-sun-investigation-stalls-netizens-furious-over-lack-of-justice

November 17, 2019:

TRCNG’s Wooyeop and Taeseon sue TS Entertainment for child abuse: https://www.allkpop.com/article/2019/11/trcngs-wooyeop-and-taeseon-sues-ts-entertainmen-for-child-abuse-including-hitting-them-with-metal-chairs

November 17, 2019:

Seventeen’s S.Coups goes on hiatus to receive treatment for anxiety: https://www.allkpop.com/article/2019/11/seventeens-scoups-goes-on-hiatus-to-receive-treatment-for-anxiety

November 18, 2019:

Kim Saeron leaving YG Entertainment: https://www.allkpop.com/article/2019/11/kim-sae-ron-reportedly-leaving-yg-entertainment

November 19, 2019:

Former East the Light Member Lee Eun Sung to Enlist in Military this Month: https://www.soompi.com/article/1366809wpp/former-the-east-light-member-lee-eun-sung-to-enlist-in-military-this-month

November 20, 2019:

Daesung required to pay about $1.02 M in taxes on controversial building: https://www.allkpop.com/article/2019/11/daesung-required-to-pay-12-billion-krw-approximately-1025-million-in-taxes-on-controversial-building

November 24, 2019:

Goo Hara found dead in her home: https://metro.co.uk/2019/11/24/k-pop-star-former-kara-member-goo-hara-found-dead-28-11209087/

November 26, 2019:

Park Kyung Lawsuit & Vote Manipulation Accusations for others: https://www.soompi.com/article/1368039wpp/park-kyungs-agency-to-appoint-lawyer-expresses-wish-for-chart-manipulation-rumors-to-be-uncovered

November 26, 2019:

Stray Kids Lee Know suffers from minor ankle injury: https://www.koreaboo.com/news/stray-kids-lee-know-suffers-ankle-injury-jyp-gives-update-performance-2019-aaa/

November 26, 2019:

Malicious Commenters charged fines for defamation of Woolim Entertainment Artists: https://www.soompi.com/article/1368009wpp/malicious-commenters-charged-fines-for-defamation-of-woollim-artists

November 26, 2019:

MNET confirms I*ZONE and X1 will not attend MAMA: https://www.soompi.com/article/1368051wpp/mnet-confirms-izone-and-x1-will-not-attend-2019-mama

November 28, 2019:

Hyuna has been diagnosed with depression, panic disorder and vasovagal syncope: https://www.koreaboo.com/news/hyuna-depression-panic-disorder-vasovagal-syncope-diagnosis/

November 28, 2019:

UP10tion fans claim that Jinhoo is dating: https://www.koreaboo.com/news/up10tion-fans-jinhoo-dating-rumors-furious/

November 30, 2019:

GOT7′s Youngjae to sit out of weekend events due to health issues:https://www.allkpop.com/article/2019/11/got7s-youngjae-to-sit-out-of-weekend-events-due-to-health-issues

December 1, 2019:

TWICE’s Chaeyoung misses Twicelight’s performance in Japan due to ill health: https://www.koreaboo.com/news/twices-chaeyoung-misses-twicelights-performance-in-japan-due-ill-health/

December 1, 2019:

GOT7′s Jackson Wang misses activities due to health concerns: https://www.allkpop.com/article/2019/12/twices-chaeyoung-and-got7s-jackson-will-also-be-sitting-out-of-schedules-due-to-health-reasons

December 1, 2019:

Former AOA members Mina calls out a certain murderer in Instagram post: https://www.allkpop.com/article/2019/12/former-aoa-member-mina-calls-out-a-certain-murderer-in-strange-instagram-post

December 3, 2019:

Fantagio rookie actor Cha In Ha found dead: https://www.koreaboo.com/news/fantagio-rookie-actor-cha-in-ha-found-dead/

December 3, 2019:

University releases official apology regarding using similar logo as Kim Jae Hwan’s fan club: https://www.koreaboo.com/news/university-releases-official-apology-regarding-using-similar-logo-kim-jae-hwans-fan-club/

December 3, 2019:

KONNECT Entertainment Reveals Kang Daniel’s Depression and Panic Disorder Diagnosis, Halts “TOUCHIN” Promotions: https://www.koreaboo.com/news/konnect-entertainment-reveals-kang-daniels-depression-panic-disorder-diagnosis-halts-touchin-promotions/

December 8, 2019:

Kim Gun Mo to take legal action against Youtube channel: https://www.koreaboo.com/news/kim-gun-mo-take-legal-action-youtube-channel-claims-sexually-assaulted-someone/

December 8, 2019:

MONSTA X Jooheon may not be performing at the 2019 Jingle Ball: https://www.koreaboo.com/news/monsta-x-jooheon-not-performing-2019-jingle-ball/

December 9, 2019:

BigHit Entertainment/BTS/JTBC’s Claims: https://www.allkpop.com/article/2019/12/big-hit-entertainment-makes-a-lengthy-rebuttal-to-jtbcs-claims-that-bts-is-seeking-legal-help-due-to-profit-disputes

December 10, 2019:

Kim Soo Hyun leaves Keyeast to start new one-man agency: https://www.koreaboo.com/news/kim-soo-hyun-leaves-keyeast-start-new-one-man-agency/

December 10, 2019:

Map6 announces military enlistment of 4 out of 5 members: https://www.soompi.com/article/1370758wpp/map6-announces-military-enlistment-of-4-out-of-5-members-agency-says-group-is-not-disbanding

December 11, 2019:

Gagman Park Dong Geun under fire after calling Busters’ Chaeyeon a bitch: https://www.koreaboo.com/news/gagman-park-dong-geun-38-fire-after-calling-busters-chaeyeon-15-bitch-prostitute-live-broadcast/

December 11, 2019:

Kim Woo Bin becomes a free agent after leaving agency: https://www.koreaboo.com/news/kim-woo-bin-become-free-agent-after-expiration-contract/

December 12, 2019:

2NE1 Minzy files appeal: https://www.koreaboo.com/news/2ne1-minzy-file-appeal-contract-nullification-music-works/

December 12, 2019:

Han Seo Hee alleges that Jung Da Eun is violent and abusive: https://www.allkpop.com/article/2019/12/han-seo-hee-states-that-jung-da-eun-is-violent-and-abusive-reveals-her-bruised-arms-and-hands

December 12, 2019:

Cosmic Girls’ Dawon to take hiatus due to anxiety disorder: https://www.allkpop.com/article/2019/12/cosmic-girls-dawon-to-take-hiatus-due-to-anxiety-disorder

December 12, 2019:

Broadcast PDs previously recruited by YGE from MBC reportedly leaving YG: https://www.allkpop.com/article/2019/12/broadcast-pds-previously-recruited-by-yg-entertainment-from-mbc-reportedly-leaving-yg

December 12, 2019:

Cherry Bullet’s Mirae, Kokoro and Linlin cancel contract and leave the group: https://www.koreaboo.com/news/cherry-bullets-mirae-kokoro-linlin-cancel-contract-leaves-group/

December 24, 2019:

FNC Entertainment announces Song Seunghyun will leave FT Island and other members renew their contracts: https://www.koreaboo.com/news/fnc-entertainment-announces-song-seunghyun-will-leave-ftisland-group-others-renew-contracts/

December 25, 2019

Red Velvet Wendy suffers broken pelvis and wrist and facial injuries after falling off stage: https://www.koreaboo.com/news/red-velvet-wendy-suffers-broken-pelvis-wrist-facial-injuries-after-falling-off-stage/

December 29, 2019:

TVXQ’s Changmin reportedly in a relationship with a non celebrity: https://www.koreaboo.com/news/tvxq-changmin-reportedly-in-relationship-non-celebrity/

December 29, 2019:

Got7′s Yugyeom will not be attending MBC Gayo on 30th and 31st due to health problems: https://www.allkpop.com/article/2019/12/got7s-yugyeom-will-not-be-attending-mbc-gayo-festival-on-the-30th-31st-due-to-health

January 1, 2020:

Twice’s Momo and Super Junior’s Heechul Confirmed to be in a relationship: https://www.koreaboo.com/news/twice-momo-super-junior-heechul-confirmed-in-relationship/

January 6, 2020:

X1 disbands: https://www.google.ca/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=web&cd=1&cad=rja&uact=8&ved=2ahUKEwjeouWznPDmAhVFHjQIHRC7AoUQ0PADMAB6BAgBEAU&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.billboard.com%2Farticles%2Fnews%2Finternational%2F8547358%2Fx1-disbands-vote-fixing-controversy&usg=AOvVaw29jJhbKHade_bxnzSnlzxl

#psychic readings #psychic #kpop predictions #kpop #October 2019 #November 2019 #December 2019 #kpop tea #January 2020

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