#also if anyone has any insights on the part that starts

[i-heart-hxh]

In all honesty why do you think Killua made the number two comment to Gon? I feel like he doesn’t realize how messed up that is to say to someone who has gone through extensive trauma trying to prove himself to a father who also put him in “second place” to something he deemed more important. It was hurtful and I don’t see how that can be repaired now. Even if they do reunite Gon is going to just step on eggshells and fear that even one slip up will cause Killua to just leave him again. Idk I just feel like separation wasn’t the solution here. They needed to talk and then stay together. But “taking a break” rarely works out for any relationship. It also sucks that Gon constantly told Killua how important he was to him but Killua NEVER returned this sentiment verbally so Gon’s just stuck thinking he’s a piece of shit who destroyed his most important relationship. Killua really did just say “screw Gon I have Alluka now”.

Hello!

I don't agree with this interpretation at all; to me, there are a number of complex reasons why Killua made that comment, and I don't think it will destroy their relationship by any means.

This post--In-Depth analysis on the Hidden Reasons behind Gon & Killua's separation scene (ep 147) Why Gon is 'Number 2'--is the best starting point for anyone trying to understand the separation, in my opinion. It's cohesive, uses supporting evidence from the series and demonstrates the careful wording used in the separation, and it makes more sense than any other interpretation I've read of why Killua would make such a comment to Gon. I keep referring back to this post because I truly think it holds keys to understanding the separation that other posts I've seen don't.

In addition to the insight provided in that post--where Killua is trying to put some distance between him and Gon for Gon's safety and well-being, essentially--I also think it's:

a) Partly how Killua is trying to steel himself to leave Gon, by telling himself, Gon, and Alluka that Alluka is his priority for now

b) Part of Killua's campaign of teasing Gon lightheartedly on the topic, to bring it up while at the same time downplaying the emotional effects of what happened between them--because when they're separating is not the right time for them to seriously address it or work through it

I do think the second place comment hurt Gon a little, but...Gon is already aware that he hurt Killua, and after his life was literally saved by Alluka (Nanika), being put in "second place" is not the worst outcome ever, honestly. Plus, it confirms he's still one of the most important people to Killua even after everything that happened between them! Killua is not saying Gon is trash to him now, even though it is a bit of a jab.

I've also said before that I think Togashi had Killua make this comment with awareness that we, as the audience, would be like, "Uh-huh Killua, sure, interesting of you to say this so shortly after you centered your entire life on him for basically the whole series and even seriously considered doing a lovers suicide with this guy..." We're most likely supposed to see it as Killua not being fully honest, even though Alluka does obviously mean a lot to Killua and by necessity she has to be his priority now. Plus, even Alluka herself says she'll give Killua back to Gon after a while. She must have some idea of how much Gon means to Killua, to be so willing to "give him back." I've said this before, but I see this line from Alluka about giving Killua back to Gon as a promise from Togashi to the audience that this isn't forever.

Gon isn't clueless; he knows Killua cares about him even though Killua struggles to express it verbally. The degree of trust and unspoken understanding between them in the dodgeball match is a good (albeit complicated) example of this. The two didn't communicate to the degree they needed to during Chimera Ant Arc, which makes sense because they're young and have their own issues and it was terribly traumatic for both for them, but they also have a good understanding of each other overall, and it's not giving Gon enough credit to assume he has no idea just because Killua hasn't said it. He doesn't know the full extent of Killua's feelings for him, certainly (I hope he will someday!), but he is aware Killua cares about him. Even when it comes to the separation, Killua expressing his pain shows that he still cares about Gon! He's saying that what happened still hurts, because he still cares! He's making light of it, but it's honestly a step in the right direction for him to be discussing it at all. If they can't be honest with each other about how what happened impacted them, they can't heal.

Of course it would be better for their relationship if they talked it out fully and came to some sort of resolution, but neither of them were in a place where they could do that quite yet. Killua is too closed up emotionally and hurting from seeing Gon essentially die in front of him, and Gon needs to recover from essentially throwing his life away and saying those things to Killua that we know he regrets. They do need some time apart to reflect and grow.

Are the two boys in a complicated emotional situation currently? Yes. Do I think this dooms them to never reconnect or heal their relationship? Absolutely not. I see their separation as more of a "We gotta go our separate ways for now because we both have things we have to deal with," (both externally and internally) than anything final. They agree to stay in touch, they express sadness at having to part, they make it clear several times that this is a temporary parting. Why make them clearly unsatisfied with having to part if they're not going to have an opportunity to make things right later?

[cinnamonest]

I'm not looking to start shit so I'm not linking it or anything, but you may have seen a recent anti-dark-content post circulating with a lot of notes making rounds in the x reader sphere and while I have nothing against people posting their feelings in their own private spaces, every time I see these kinds of posts there's a lot of misinformation that gets regurgitated in the reblogs/replies and I saw what looked like a battlezone in the replies, so.

I know posts like that can be very jarring and affects people like my readers, so to combat misinformation/shaming for anyone who saw it, I'm going to share some of my information on combatting fandom puritanism/misogyny/kinkshaming in its most common forms.

The most important fact, if you read nothing else, is this:

Most women have rape fantasies.

62% to be exact. I think the most pervasive myth on this content is that consumers are "weird" for it, when the numbers don't indicate that. You're in the majority!

The vast majority of people who have rape fantasies do not put them into practice in real life. A variety of factors can determine whether or not they do, particularly specific psychiatric disorders. (X)

To specifically address common harmful and pervasive myths:

the "go to therapy!" line

Generally any academic or professional resource will immediately tell you that consuming and engaging in "dark" fantasies is accepted and encouraged by mainstream psychiatry and part of the professional education for psychiatrists. (This also used to be pretty well-known until like the last 5 years or so, not sure why that changed.)

Here are some particularly insightful resources:

1) This article by Dr. David Wahl, in my opinion, hands-down does the best job of simply and thoroughly explaining why these fantasies occur and why couples practice CNC, as well as the fact that they are both harmless, psychologically beneficial to those with them, and not at all correlated to real-life rape.

2) Dr. Claudia Six has some of the best and most thorough material out there on the subject, specifically explaining why this is taught in mainstream academia psychology and how it is incredibly helpful to rape victims (X).

3) Lisa Diamond is a professional who focuses on this subject a lot, and was featured in the documentary "The Dilemma of Desire," in which she specifically focuses on how these fantasies are not correlated to real-life desires. (X)

4) Dr. Casey Lyle has specifically talked a lot on his socials about how fantasies, even in men/the perspective of the offender, do not correlate to actual risk of offending.

5) This article is not by a professional, but from the perspective of a survivor discussing how it is beneficial to survivors.

the "why would you want that?" line

The idea that fictional tastes = what you want to happen to you in real life is actually of misogynistic origin. I don't want to seek out or add links on this one, but if you're really curious, you can research about how the idea that "women read rape fiction, that means they secretly want rape!" was originally a classic "red pill"/MGTOW/4chan talking point that made its way into mainstream dialogue and thus the public mind in the last 15 years or so due to the incel epidemic popularizing those communities.

the "it's only valid for survivors then!" line

On one hand, yes it's very important to acknowledge that trauma victims use it to cope, however I feel that over-emphasizing that gives the impression that non-victims should be excluded from consumption of dark content, so to clarify, it's a very valid means for all women. Many women who have not personally experienced rape still fantasize about it, and that's fine.

The full explanation as to why this is true for many of them would be lengthy (and addressed in the aforementioned Dilemma of Desire documentary), but in the simplest terms, nonconsensual sex is the only context in which patriarchal society permits women to have sex at all without feeling guilt. For many women, particularly those in more heavily misogynistic or religious cultures, these fantasies are appealing because the idea of consensual sex may give them feelings of shame, guilt, "sin," etc. These fantasies allow them to experience the feeling of being desired without guilt of participation.

No society on earth is free of the psychological grip that cultural misogyny has on women, and shaming women for adapting to the conditions they are forced to exist under is as harmful as the misogyny that causes it itself.

ALL women experience a form of psychological trauma inherent to female childhood and female adolescence in a patriarchal world, and that is just as valid as coping with individual traumatic events.

Good resources on the subject of why women have these fantasies and how they are helpful in general:

(X) (X)

The "what you consume will make you do it in real life!" myth

Although the resources above already address this, it's important to establish why this myth is so prevalent and what its origins are.

The idea that consuming media with dark themes leads to or indicates desires to replicate those acts is a residual element of two major events:

1) Puritan revival culture, popularized in the US and UK in the 90s and 2000s (also known as "Satanic Panic"). A major facet of this movement was TV megachurch preachers making money off of exploiting well-meaning but paranoid parents into believing that your child playing Dungeons and Dragons or Pokemon would make them future serial killers and lure them into satanic cults. (X)

2) at the tail end of this, it was cemented in the public mind as a cultural ripple aftershock of the Columbine shooting, where this sentiment became popularized as the general public blamed violent video games like Doom and "dark" music like Marilyn Manson (whose life was temporarily completely upended by the events and took him years to recover/be safe from) for the 1999 shooting. This event had MASSIVE permanent and global effects in all sorts of ways that the public often underestimates the sheer scope of, notably that it solidified, prolonged, and, in the minds of many, "proved" the paranoias of the preexisting Satanic Panic. (X) This established a precedent, leading to virtually any major horrible event being blamed on the perpetrator's media consumption, including murder and sex crimes.

What this myth ignores in the cases it references (the slenderman stabbings, columbine, sasebo slashing, batman shooting, etc) is two crucial facts: that hundreds of millions of people consume the same media with no negative effects (helpful effects even), and that in every single case cited as "evidence" to the claim, the perpetrator had a preexisting psychiatric condition correlated to acts of violence (which usually went ignored, downplayed and even accelerated/worsened by those around them rather than the help they needed).

Sorry for the wall of text, but I feel an ethical obligation to combat this kind of misinformation, and I hope these resources are helpful for those who may be negatively affected by common misunderstandings.

You are not abnormal or wrong for the fictional content you consume or the fantasies you have!

[burst-of-iridescent]

South Asian and Hindu Influences in ATLA (Part 2)

disclaimer: i was raised culturally and religiously hindu, and though i've tried to do my research for this post and pair it with my own cultural knowledge, i'm not an expert on hinduism by any means. should i mess up, please let me know.

please also be aware that many of the concepts discussed in this post overlap heavily with religions such as buddhism and jainism, which might have different interpretations and representations. as i'm not from those religions or cultures, i don't want to speak on them, but if anyone with that knowledge wishes to add on, please feel free.

Part 1

In the previous post, I discussed some of the things ATLA got right in its depictions of desi and hindu cultures. unfortunately, they also got plenty of things wrong - often in ways that leaned towards racist caricatures - so let's break them down, starting with...

Guru Pathik

both the word "guru" and name "pathik" come from sanskrit. pathik means "traveler" or "he who knows the way" while guru is a term for a guide or mentor, similar to a teacher.

gurus were responsible for the very first education systems in ancient india, setting up institutions called gurukuls. students, referred to as disciples, would often spend years living with and learning from their gurus in these gurukuls, studying vedic and buddhist texts, philosophy, music and even martial arts.

however, their learning was not limited merely to academic study, as gurus were also responsible for guiding the spiritual evolution of their disciples. it was common for disciples to meditate, practice yoga, fast for days or weeks, and complete mundane household chores every day in order to instill them with self-discipline and help them achieve enlightenment and spiritual awareness. the relationship between a guru and his disciple was considered a sacred, holy bond, far exceeding that of a mere teacher and student.

aang's training with guru pathik mirrors some of these elements. similar to real gurus, pathik takes on the role of aang's spiritual mentor. he guides aang in unblocking his chakras and mastering the avatar state through meditation, fasting, and self-reflection - all of which are practices that would have likely been encouraged in disciples by their gurus.

pathik's design also takes inspiration from sadhus, holy men who renounced their worldly ties to follow a path of spiritual discipline. the guru's simple, nondescript clothing and hair are reflective of the ascetic lifestyle sadhus are expected to lead, giving up material belongings and desires in order to achieve spiritual enlightenment and, ultimately, liberation from the reincarnation cycle.

unfortunately, this is where the respectful references end because everything else about guru pathik was insensitive at best and stereotypical at worst.

it is extremely distasteful that the guru speaks with an overexaggerated indian accent, even though the iranian-indian actor who plays him has a naturally british accent. why not just hire an actual indian voice actor if the intention was to make pathik sound authentic? besides, i doubt authenticity was the sole intention, given that the purposeful distortion of indian accents was a common racist trope played for comedy in early 2000s children's media (see: phineas and ferb, diary of a wimpy kid, jessie... the list goes on).

furthermore, while pathik is presented a wise and respected figure within this episode, his next (and last) appearance in the show is entirely the opposite.

in the episode nightmares and daydreams, pathik appears in aang's nightmare with six hands, holding what appears to be a veena (a classical indian music instrument). this references the iconography of the hindu deity Saraswati, the goddess of wisdom and knowledge. the embodiment of divine enlightenment, learning, insight and truth, Saraswati is a member of the Tridevi (the female version of the Trimurti), one of the most respected and revered goddesses in the Hindu pantheon... and her likeness is used for a cheap laugh on a character who's already treated as a caricature.

that's bad enough on its own, but when you consider that guru pathik is the only explicitly south asian coded character in the entire show, it's downright insulting. for a show that took so many of its foundational concepts from south asia and hinduism and yet provided almost no desi representation in return, this is just rubbing salt in the wound.

Chakras

"chakra", meaning "circle" or "wheel of life" in sanskrit, refers to sources of energy found in the human body. chakra points are aligned along the spine, with energy flowing from the lowest to the highest point. the energy pooled at the lowest chakra is called kundalini, and the aim is to release this energy to the highest chakra in order to achieve spiritual enlightenment and consciousness.

the number of chakras varies in different religions, with buddhism referencing five chakras while hinduism has seven. atla draws from the latter influence, so let's take a look at the seven chakras:

Muladhara (the Root Chakra). located at the base of the spine, this chakra deals with our basest instincts and is linked to the element of earth.

Swadhisthana (the Sacral Chakra). located just below the navel, this chakra deals with emotional intensity and pleasure and is linked to the element of water.

Manipura (the Solar Plexus Chakra). located in the stomach, this chakra deals with willpower and self-acceptance and is linked to the element of fire.

Anahata (the Heart Chakra). located in the heart, this chakra deals with love, compassion and forgiveness and is linked to the element of air. in the show, this chakra is blocked by aang's grief over the loss of the air nomads, which is a nice elemental allusion.

Vishudda (the Throat Chakra). located at the base of the throat, this chakra deals with communication and honesty and is linked to the fifth classical element of space. the show calls this the Sound Chakra, though i'm unsure where they got that from.

Ajna (the Third Eye Chakra). located in the centre of the forehead, this chakra deals with spirituality and insight and is also linked to the element of space. the show calls it the Light Chakra, which is fairly close.

Sahasrara (the Crown Chakra). located at the very top of the head, this chakra deals with pure cosmic consciousness and is also linked to the element of space. it makes perfect sense that this would be the final chakra aang has to unblock in order to connect with the avatar spirit, since the crown chakra is meant to be the point of communion with one's deepest, truest self.

the show follows these associations and descriptions almost verbatim, and does a good job linking the individual chakras to their associated struggles in aang's arc.

Cosmic Energy

the idea of chakras is associated with the concept of shakti, which refers to the life-giving energy that flows throughout the universe and within every individual.

the idea of shakti is a fundamentally unifying one, stating that all living beings are connected to one another and the universe through the cosmic energy that flows through us all. this philosophy is referenced both in the swamp episode and in guru pathik telling aang that the greatest illusion in the world is that of separation - after all, how can there be any real separation when every life is sustained by the same force?

this is also why aang needing to let go of katara did not, as he mistakenly assumed, mean he had to stop loving her. rather, the point of shedding earthly attachment is to allow one to become more attuned to shakti, both within oneself and others. ironically, in letting go of katara and allowing himself to commune with the divine energy of the universe instead, aang would have been more connected to her - not less.

The Avatar State

according to hinduism, there are five classical elements known as pancha bhuta that form the foundations of all creation: air, water, earth, fire, and space/atmosphere.

obviously, atla borrows this concept in making a world entirely based on the four classical elements. but looking at how the avatar spirit is portrayed as a giant version of aang suspended in mid-air, far above the earth, it's possible that this could reference the fifth liminal element of space as well.

admittedly this might be a bit of a reach, but personally i find it a neat piece of worldbuilding that could further explain the power of the avatar. compared to anyone else who might be able to master only one element, mastering all five means having control of every building block of the world. this would allow the avatar to be far more attuned to the spiritual energy within the universe - and themselves - as a result, setting in motion the endless cycle of death and rebirth that would connect their soul even across lifetimes.

[waggledoogledoggle]

⚠️Spoilers for Hazbin ep 4⚠️

⚠️Also, this post will talk about Abuse and SA, it is briefly mentioned a few times throughout the rest of this… whole long thingy I wrote⚠️

⚠️Also, brief mention of the scene where someone tried to drug Angel⚠️

Ok, I am just genuinely baffled at the people who somehow find a way to hate on 'Loser, Baby'.

Like, if you don't like Huskerdust that's fine... but 'Loser, Baby' is not overshadowing/brushing off Angel's SA. It's not victim blaming. And it's not Husk telling Angel to just shut up and get over it.

Like I've seen it so much, and you know what? Fuck it. Welcome to my TedTalk on why it's not all of those things.

For starters: Husk doesn't know about Angel's SA

When Angel has his vulnerable outburst (Side note, props to Blake I mean, they said 'take 5' he heard 'change lives') he talks about how he feels like he has to act the way he does to keep Valentino happy because he stupidly sold his soul to him. That he wants to get drugged up because that’s his escape. That he wants to be broken because maybe, just maybe Val will let him go. He wants to be free, but he can't and he has no one to blame but himself.

"What's the worst part of this hell, I can only blame myself" is literally the pre chorus to his song (Poison), and that is what he shares with Husk.

Not once does he bring up his abuse or SA. If he did, do you think a song would have even happened? Look how Husk reacted when someone tried to drug Angel's drink! Now that Husk actually genuinely cares about him? Dead. Dead. Valentino would be dead.

Us knowing about Angels situation in full is dramatic irony which is, essentially, we as the audience know more/are given more insight than the other characters. We were given the insight of Angel's true trauma that he deals with on the daily. Husk and the rest of the Hotel were not and have no idea what he deals with, the only one that even has an inkling is Charlie and even then we still know WAY more about Angel’s situation than her, so you can't really get upset at Husk for not knowing something he would have no way of knowing unless Angel shared it with him directly.

Moving onto the song itself, it's a song of empathy.

Allow me to explain.

Husk pinpoints perfectly what Angel is feeling in this moment:

"So things look bad, and your back's against the wall Your whole existence seems fuckin' hopeless You're feelin' filthy as a dive bar bathroom stall Can't face the world sober and dopeless You've lost your way, you think your life is wrecked"

When Husk starts singing, you can tell that Angel is expecting Husk to pull the whole "But that's not true! It's not hopeless! You're life's not wrecked!" and is very surprised when Husk doesn't.

Instead, Husks says "Yeah. You're right." And this is when a lot of the haters get angry- but hold on a second.

When someone is feeling all of those things, saying things like "That's not true! You'll be ok!" aren't helpful at all. That's brushing it off. Even if it may be true, that doesn't help anyone when they're feeling like hopeless, lost, losers.

Because that's sympathy, not empathy. Sympathy is feeling for someone, and trying to make them feel better. Empathy, is not trying to make them feel any certain way- better or worse- empathy is simply feeling with someone. And that's what Husk does.

During the first chorus, Husk is clearly teasing Angel a bit while doing so, but not without good reason. It's keeping Angel from closing back up again, he's being a little bit silly with him and teasing him. I mean, did you see the silly lil walk he did crossing in front of Angel? And Angel is super confused because he's like "how tf is this supposed to make me feel better??"

That's the thing. It's not. That's sympathy's job, not empathy's. Empathy just want's you to feel felt with, it doesn't want to tell you how to feel. And adding that bit of silliness gives Angel's vulnerability a chance to breathe and it prevents Angel from closing in on himself.

The next verse, pre-chorus, and chorus is when the empathy though really kicks in.

The next verse, is the first part of empathy: Sharing about a similar experience you went through.

In this verse, now that Angel is listening not just hearing, Husk shares that he has been gruesomely damaged. Calling back to what he shared literally seconds before the song. That he knows what it's like to sign away your soul, and constantly look back at it with huge amounts of regret. That knowing that moment is what turned him into the mess he is today, and that he has no one to blame but himself. Just like Angel.

Then in the pre-chorus where there's the whole:

"I sold my soul to a psychopathic freak Haha! And you think that makes you unique? Get outta here, man!"

That isn't Husk telling Angel to get over himself and this isn’t him undermining what Angel’s been through. That's him saying 'I did too, you're not alone’

And then the very simple word change from "you're" to "we're" in the chorus is SO FREAKING HUGE. Because Husk is essentially saying "You feel like a total loser right now. Ok. Then if what happened to you/what you went through makes you a loser, then I'm a loser too. Let's be loser's together." Instead of trying to make Angel stop feeling like he's a hopeless loser, he decides that he is too.

He meets Angel where he is.

Aka: ✨empathy✨

Angel finally feels seen, understood, felt with. All the goals of empathy. He no longer feels alone in what he is struggling with, which is HUGE! Especially for people going through/dealing with SA and abuse.

The bridge of the song, is also extremely important, because this is where they acknowledge the differences in what they're going through. Their root problem is the same, but how it messed up their lives and created the problems they deal with now are completely different

And that's around when the song begins to shift from just Husk showing empathy and comforting Angel, to them both finding comfort in each other.

Which you can clearly see by the chorus under the umbrella, where it's not just one of them singing the chorus, but it's both of them. Because they have found a place to go to and confide in, a place of comfort, with each other.

Like, I am genuinely concerned that people find this song toxic like... have- have you never experienced empathy before? Are you ok?

So yeah, to wrap this up, if you don’t like ‘Loser, Baby’ just because you don’t like the song in general? That’s fine (odd, but fine)

But if you hate it because it “undermines Angel’s experience and what he goes through” I…

words.

Thank you for coming to my TedTalk

[rthko]

Hi :) I read The Tragedy of Heterosexuality and loved it — do you have any other books you’d recommend about gender/sexuality? Thanks <3 I love reading your long posts, you have really insightful ideas and I think we view the world very similarly

Glad to hear that! Here's some context for anyone not in the loop: The Tragedy of Heterosexuality is a book about Heteropessimism, or rather, finding a way out of it. The notion is that heterosexual love is doomed because men and women are just different by nature, and it manifests through relationship self-help books, incels and pickup artists, and the memes and ramblings of countless straight women who they wish they could just be lesbians. Jane Ward think heterosexuality as we know it self sabotages through what she calls the misogyny paradox: straight men love women, except they don't love women. But she doesn't think heterosexuality is doomed or prop up political lesbianism as a solution. She calls for mutual respect and actually leaning into the heterosexuality of, well, actually liking each other, rather than try to "queer" it. This is part of a really interesting turn in queer theory where heterosexuality has emerged as a subject of study--another good example is Hanne Blank's Straight: The Surprisingly Short History of Heterosexuality.

So I want to start out by disclaiming I'm not actually that well read. This is something I've been trying to work on more recently. That said, here are some gender and sexuality recs:

Two essays by Gayle Rubin: The Traffic in Women and Thinking Sex. I don't completely cosign everything she says, but these are monumental texts. Thinking Sex is topical especially as the "sex wars" keep playing out.

Gender Trouble by Judith Butler. Everyone's heard of this, so my specific recommendation is to skip to part three and the conclusion, where the text is at its most concise. Butler's theory of gender performativity has exploded beyond their initial reach, so they've since had a lot of interviews and given talks that address a wider audience. People who have read both Gender Trouble and Bodies that Matter tend to recommend the latter text, but I still need to.

The Trouble with Normal by Michael Warner, or if you want a shorter version, his essay "Normaler and Normaler." Even if you're not against marriage in its entirety, his criticisms are so incisive and helpful, especially now in countries where gay marriage was passed but proved to be a dead end. It also really gets into gayness as identity versus behavior, which seems to have exploded into a huge conflict recently. This is how you get people who are on board with queerness in the abstract but appalled by its real-life specifics. I also still need to read Fear of a Queer Planet.

Sister Outsider by Audre Lorde, is a collection of speeches and essays by one of the most influential Black feminist writers. "Uses of the Erotic" especially stuck with me, where the erotic is taken not so literally but as a sort of creative synergy with political implications. If you've ever heard "the master's tools will not dismantle the masters house," that's included in this collection.

Close to the Knives by David Wojnarowicz, also a collection of speeches and essays, is one of my favorite books on AIDS. The rage is palpable and crucial, and the essay "Do Not Doubt the Dangerousness of the 12-inch Politician" is eerily resonant today as politicians still stoke violence on TV (and now social media).

Lately I've been getting more into trans writing, with Transgender History by Susan Stryker and Whipping Girl by Julia Serano. The former alarmed me with how much I didn't know, and the latter blew my mind. It was written at a time when trans people, for better and for worse, weren't really in the public eye except for in niche circles, and academia about trans people was about or at the expense of them but not by and for them. Her mark is so tangible today. My next read will be Reverse Cowgirl by McKenzie Wark after hearing rave reviews. I think I'm going to like it.

I am also accepting recs!

[severaltuesdays]

Mori and Abuse

I’m making this because the BSD fandom has 2 modes for interpreting Mori and it’s either evil evil child abuser or spineless bastard and I HATE both of them.

Mori is an abuser, yes, but the way he abuses characters is very atypical, and not at all what most people expect. His abuse is almost all psychological, the only character we can say for sure has been physically abused by him is Yosano, and we’re only shown one instance of that.

For simplicity, I’ll be referring to his abuse of Dazai, Chuuya, Koyo and Yosano, but I believe it could be said that Kyuusaku and potentially the Akutagawa’s have suffered because of him.

To understand why Mori has abused certain characters, we must understand a bit about him as a person. This is potentially why Mori’s actions are so wildly skewed by the fandom, because no one wants to observe him too closely (but that’s a whole other post). Simply put, Mori is a military man. He does anything and everything to achieve the “optimal solution”, he has a plan and if he has to get his hands dirty to reach his goal, he will. Emotions and attachments go out the window for him, most of the time at least, because he would sacrifice anything, and anyone, to achieve his goal. Most of the time at least. That’s why he used Yosano, because what’s the life of one girl to the safety of his nation? That’s why he manufactured Oda’s and his orphans deaths, because the prize outweighed the cost.

Mori is logical and reserved, so we must observe all his actions with the lens that he has a reason for what he does, because he (almost) always has a reason.

I’ll start by referring to Mori’s abuse of Dazai, because he’s a bit of a special case and also the one that the fandom overall gets the most wrong. Mori’s abuse of Dazai is usually twisted to be sexual or physical, when there is absolutely no evidence of that. People like to bring up Dazai’s abuse of Akutagawa, or that one throwaway line from The Day I Picked Up Dazai as evidence, but neither of those hold up in my opinion.

Firstly, just because Dazai’s abuse of Akutagawa was partly physical, doesn’t mean he himself underwent physical abuse. Just like Mori, Dazai always has reasons for what he does, and his reason for what he did to Akutagawa was tailored to Akutagawa and his ability, therefore not something that Mori would have done to Dazai. Not to excuse Dazai’s abuse of Akutagawa, of course, but the fact of the matter is that Dazai’s abuse was a test of Akutagawa, and a punishment because Akutagawa didn’t adhere to Dazai’s standards. This abuse is the result of Mori’s own abuse, yes, but it’s not as straightforward as “Mori hit Dazai, ergo Dazai hit Akutagawa”.

The line from TDIPUD is also poor evidence, as all it is is Oda telling Dazai that what he’s doing won’t hurt and Dazai responding that Mori says the same about the needles he gives him. The fact that this is taken as abuse is really weird to me, why is that the assumption here? Mori is a doctor, there are multiple reasons for him to be giving Dazai needles. And the fact that Mori says it’s not going to hurt just sounds like the typical “doctor giving a kid a shot” exchange.

Dazai hates pain, so obviously Mori would lie and say that it isn’t going to hurt. Mori cares for Dazai’s well-being, which is what makes Dazai a bit of an outlier, as Mori shows care for him before he’s found a reason to justify that care. This is evidenced by their exchange in the beginning of Dazai, Chuuya: Fifteen, which is very important as it gives us an insight into Mori’s perspective during that time, where he panics because he hasn’t achieved the “optimal solution” by keeping Dazai alive, but then justifies that action by deciding Dazai is too good an asset to throw away.

And here-in lies the actual abuse that Dazai went through, not being hit or shamed or any of that, but emotional coercion, a slow cultivation of the parts of Dazai that Mori saw as useful, and a creation of the mindset we see Dazai use. This is most prominent with how Mori plants ideas into Dazai’s head. This is referenced in Chapter one of Fifteen as well, establishing that Mori has taken somewhat of an instructor role to Dazai, but that’s something Dazai rebels against.

This exchange is a perfect example of that conditioning, instead of giving Dazai information directly, Mori gets Dazai to deduce his answers using information he already has, something we see Dazai does very often in the current plot. But the main example of this conditioning comes in the form of Dazai’s plan to use the Sheep against Chuuya, a plan that comes DIRECTLY from Mori.

Mori makes sure that Dazai is in the room as he baits Chuuya, uses the weakness of the Sheep against him, and then breaks down EXACTLY what has happened for Dazai. “Just some food for thought” my ass.

Then when discussing his plan with Rimbaud, Dazai brings up a theory taught to him by Mori. 15!Dazai is such a little parrot, it’s all “Mori says, Mori says, Mori says”, just word-vomiting all the thoughts Mori puts in his head, there is a CLEAR influence here.

Just like Mori, Dazai uses the Sheep against Chuuya. Mori shows Dazai how to control people, how to make them listen and how to make them obey. The reason Dazai treats people like pawns, the reason he KNOWS how to manipulate people is because Mori taught him.

Just like so many of the characters, the fandom forgets that when Mori met Dazai, he was a child. He was a broken child who needed a guiding hand and the hand he got was Mori’s. Morí crafted the Dazai that we see, shaped the way that he thinks, THAT was his abuse.

Chuuya as well is a special case. Like Mori, he is a leader, and that is a quality Mori admires in him. In turn, Chuuya looks up to Mori, sees him as an inspiration for what it means to be a leader. This is another example of Mori’s manipulative abuse. To Chuuya, Mori makes himself out to be a saviour, someone who will teach him how to be better, how to protect the people he thinks he has failed. Mori takes Chuuya at his weakest point and gives him a new chance.

And with that, Chuuya is loyal to the mafia and Mori has Soukoku. Never mind that Mori was the brains behind Dazai’s plan that got Chuuya into the mafia in the first place, by getting Dazai to do his dirty work, Mori gets to appear to Chuuya with a halo and wings (I could also talk about Mori’s involvement with Stormbringer and how that locked Chuuya into the mafia, but that’s another tangent).

Mori has done the same with Koyo. She’s loyal to him, but clearly does not LIKE him, so where does that loyalty come from? It is because he has freed her. Koyo suffered under the rule of the Old Boss, she had no freedom, the man who cared for her was executed, she was restrained within the mafia. And then Mori takes over and she ends up an executive. Suddenly she’s got POWER, she can change things, under Mori she’s given the ability to change things and take charge. He sees a girl in chains and loosens them, not enough for her to escape, but enough that she can move. And having been chained up for so long, that feels like freedom. Koyo is loyal to Mori because he’s better than the alternative, because if she can’t be free, at least she can move.

I left Yosano for last, because again, she’s a wild card. Unlike all the other people Mori has coerced, Yosano’s abuse took place during a time where every second was precious. There was no time to do it delicately, the way Mori handled everything else, it was war, win or lose. Mori’s tactics were a lot more brutal, Yosano wants the soldiers to live, so Mori shoots the one she cares about so either she WATCHES her friend die, or she can save him. Unlike with Dazai, with Chuuya, with Koyo, Mori isn’t Yosano’s saviour, he’s her captor, he gives her a choice, but its one where neither option is made to look kind. He makes it clear, she heals them, or they die, whether it’s at his hands, or the hands of the enemy, and he knows she would never let them die.

Mori works through coercion and manipulation, he shapes the way people think of him carefully, moulding his appearance in the eyes of others. To Dazai he’s just an old man that Dazai has under his thumb, who tries and fails to manipulate him. But that’s not the truth. To Chuuya he’s a benevolent leader, someone so gracious as to grant him a place in the mafia. But that’s not the truth. To Koyo he’s the safest option, not someone she wants to follow, but someone she will follow, because at least she’s free. But that’s not the truth. To Yosano he’s evil, cruel and harsh and he takes lives as easily as he breathes with no remorse, he’s the God to her Angel of Death. But thats not the truth. To the audience, he’s a monster, a filthy pervert who is nothing more than a pedophile. Is that the truth?

Mori is like a spider, ensnaring people in his web with carefully constructed lies and appearances, his abuse is not physical or sexual, it’s a psychological coercion, careful at times and brutal at others, his abuse is a targeted attack of an individual’s weaknesses, and a cultivation of the parts he sees as useful.

Every person is his tool, and he likes his blades sharp.

@1seaweedbrain1 for you <3

[word-wytch]

Don't Stand So Close To Me

Eddie x Teacher!Reader

Chapter 1/? 3.5k Series Masterlist

✏︎ Summary: Forced to move back home to Hawkins after your fiancé cheats on you, you begin to fall in love again with an audacious 20 year old metalhead, only there’s one problem — he’s still in high school and you’re his English teacher.

While you struggle starting over in a place you never thought you would return, Eddie struggles feeling stuck in a place he can’t manage to leave — until you offer to help him.

Of all the lessons learned, the most important are the ones you teach each other.

✏︎ Series CW: forbidden romance, slow burn, perv!eddie, smut (18+ mdni), true love, internal conflict, student-teacher relationship, 10 year age gap, mutual pining, sexual tension, emotions, drama, angst, character development, happy ending :)

A/N: I've poured my heart and soul into this one.

Fourth period English was the only class that Eddie Munson could seem to pay attention in, though not exactly to the lessons. 

He propped his cheek against his knuckles as he watched you from the back of the classroom.

“See, everything is filtered through Holden’s limited first person narration, so we get really pure insight into how he sees the world, but we also have to take it with a grain of salt,” you said, delicate heels clicking against the tile floor as you paced back and forth. “We see what he pays attention to, and therefore what we ought to pay attention to as readers.”

Eddie’s eyes traced the curve of your waist, over the back of your tweed pencil skirt as you turned to place the chalk back on the ledge at the bottom of the board. It was hugging you in all the right places, as it did every time you wore it. His favorite.

“Alright let’s break out the quotes and notes assignment from chapter ten. Who would like to share their thoughts on a quote with the class?” 

Your eyes scanned the room. Students shifted in their chairs in an awkward silence before a hand shot up in the front row. 

“Nancy,” you smiled and gestured to her, “Take the floor.” 

“Ok so one of the quotes I picked out was where he says ‘I damn near gave my kid sister Phoebe a buzz, though. I certainly felt like talking to her on the phone. Someone with sense and all.’ I think it’s really interesting that he says that she has sense,” said Nancy.

Eddie barely registered a word of what Nancy said. He was too transfixed on your shirt, the way the fabric parted at the buttons when you leaned in just the right way. Sometimes if he was lucky he could catch a flash of skin, a glimpse of delicate lace from your bra. It almost made him wish he would have picked a seat closer to the front of the class. 

Nancy continued. “Right now he’s surrounded by very mature things at the hotel that he’s trying to make sense of and has really negative opinions about. He keeps thinking of his little sister though, and that’s always positive, so that’s in contrast to the rest of what’s going on.”

“Thank you, Nancy, that’s exactly right. A juxtaposition, very perceptive of you.”

Eddie shifted in his seat, feeling his pants start to tighten. 

“Does anyone else have a quote they’d like to share their thoughts on with the class?”

Chairs creaked, a few legs scooted loudly against the floor in the restless silence. A sniffle.

“Come on, Nancy can’t carry this entire class.” You tapped your fingers on the desk behind you. “Well, I know she could but I’m not going to let her,” you said, giving her a little wink.

Still silence. 

“Alright, fine.” You glanced around at the rows of averted eyes until yours settled on the young man in the leather jacket seated at the very back far right corner of the classroom. “Eddie,” you said with a gentle smile. 

His dark eyes shot up, face flushing. 

“Do you have any thoughts on what you read in chapter ten last night?”

Eddie licked his lips, casting his eyes downward in thought. “I uh,” his mouth was like cotton, “No I don’t really think I… understood the chapter,” he said, giving a sheepish grin. The soft pout of disappointment on your pretty lips made his stomach drop.

“I don’t think he can even read the chapter,” muttered the blonde athlete in the seat next to him.  

“Jason,” you began, but Eddie didn’t miss a beat.

“I don’t think you can even read your girlfriend,” he said, to which the class awakened audibly.

Jason shot daggers at Eddie. “Why don’t you quit talking to her and find a girlfriend closer to your  age, huh? There’s plenty at the senior home across the street.”

The class erupted in laughter.

“Stop it, both of you!” you shouted over the din. “The next person to make another sound has detention,” you said sternly. The class grew quiet again, allowing space for your voice to soften. “Eddie, please see me after class.”

“Oooh,” mocked Jason as he sat back and laughed.

“Jason, detention.”

“What? No!”

“I told you, the next person to speak has detention. I don’t make idle threats.”

Eddie’s lips curled into a satisfied grin as he watched you command the room.

“Please,” Jason begged,  “It’s the last practice before the game tomorrow.”

“No. You can use your time in detention to work on practicing some self control.”

Jason huffed and shot Eddie another glare but Eddie’s eyes were fixed on his desk, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as his face contorted. It took all of his strength to bite back a laugh.

You sighed and leaned back on your desk at the front of the classroom. “Now then,” you started, composing yourself, “I’ll be very curious to read all of your assigned journal entries from this chapter, since clearly so many of you have something to say.”

Chairs shifted. A cough.

“Alright, pass them forward,” you said, gesturing to the class. 

The room was filled with the sound of sheets being torn from notebooks, binders opening, paper shuffling. The students passed the pages forward up the four rows and you walked by to collect them.

“Why don’t we spend the last fifteen minutes of class silently reading the book, hm? Then maybe tomorrow we might have something to talk about.”

You returned to sit at your desk with the papers as the students opened up their books. 

Eddie dug his beat up copy of The Catcher in the Rye out of the mess of his backpack. The red, soft cover spine was beginning to peel away from abuse.

He opened it up to a random page and began to gloss over the words but none of them registered. His mind was too full of other images — the arch of your back, the way you toyed at your lips with your finger in thought, of what you would look like bent over that desk of yours with him on top of you.

Fifteen minutes passed like this. The bell rang. 

Eddie waited in his seat as the other students filed out of the classroom, turning to bury the book in his backpack in an effort to avoid Jason, but it didn’t matter.

“Watch it, freak. I mean it, I’ve got my eyes on you,” said Jason, to which Eddie simply raised his eyebrows in mock fear.

After the last student left, Eddie slowly approached you, dragging his feet a little as he walked. 

You swiped the last of the chalk from the board with the eraser, leaving a small cloud of dust as you turned to face him. 

“Sorry for the outburst today.” The chain on his wrist rattled as he brought a hand to his chest, “I meant no disrespect,” he said earnestly. “Well, I did to Jason, but never to you.”

You returned a soft smile, “Thanks, I appreciate the apology even though I can see that you weren’t exactly the instigator.” 

“Yeah, well, Jason, like any basic primate, seems to think that any male who comes within three feet of his mate is a threat.”

A snort escaped you. Basic primate.  

Eddie’s eyes crinkled, his smile contagious. “Besides, Chrissy’s the one who came over to talk to me anyway.”  

You sighed and shook your head, not really knowing what to say.

“Sorry, I know, I’ll stop.”

You gave him a gracious look and took a deep breath to compose yourself, “Eddie,” you started.

His mouth curved ever so slightly as he relished in the way his name rolled off your tongue.

“We’ve been in class for about a month now,” you began, “You haven’t turned in an assignment in the last two weeks.”

Eddie scratched the back of his head, “Yeah, uh, sorry about that.”

“Now I might be new to teaching here, but I know this isn’t your first time in this class, nor your second. Clearly there must be some part of you that wants to graduate, or else you would have just dropped out two years ago, right?” you asked, searching his eyes. “You don’t strike me as the sort of person who does anything they don’t want to do.”

Eddie smirked, “It’s only been a month and you already know me so well, miss.”

There was something about the way that he said it that brought a heat to your cheeks. You tucked your hair behind your ear in an attempt to hide it. “Well, what do you think we can do about this little conundrum then? I don’t want to see you fail.” 

“I dunno, maybe I just… need a little help?” he said sheepishly.  

You hummed, bringing a curved finger to your lips in thought. “I want to help you, but you have to be willing to put in some effort.”

“I know, I’ve been totally slacking. That’s on me. I can change that,” he said assuredly, “I promise.”

You smiled softly at his earnestness. “If you’re willing to put in the effort, I would be open to tutoring you. I have some time after school today if you want to stop by my classroom, we can come up with a game plan then.”

Eddie’s dark eyes widened at the suggestion, “I’d appreciate that very much, miss.”

You gave a nod, “Sure thing. I’ll see you after school then. I’ll be here.”

 “See ya later,” he said, grabbing his well worn backpack and slinging it over his shoulder. “Oh, and,” he turned back toward you, closing the distance between you even further. His eyes lingered over your lips for a moment before meeting your gaze again, “Thank you.”

“Of course,” you half whispered.

You turned toward your desk to gather the papers in as neat a pile as you could manage with the frayed edges left by spiral notebooks and placed them in your fourth period grading folder. The bell rang out again through the halls signaling lunch period. You grabbed your purse from under your desk and closed the classroom door behind you. 

Walking through the halls of Hawkins High was like a strange recurring dream. Same drop ceiling, same tile floor. Same weird smell when you walked past the science room. The same cliques too — the jocks, the burnouts, the party animals. This time with less bell bottoms and fringe, more leg warmers and hairspray. Surprisingly little had changed. 

You opened the door to the teacher’s lounge adjacent to the cafeteria. The wood paneled walls and old carpet were much less familiar to you than the hallways and classrooms you had spent countless hours in. It was strange to be on this side of things now.

“How’s your day going so far, sweetie?” chimed Ms. Click, putting the glass coffee pot back on the warmer. 

“Oh, you know, just another day of pulling teeth from my class. I swear Nancy Wheeler was the only one who read the chapter last night.”

A swoon swept across the room. “Oh Nancy, she really is such a bright star isn’t she?” Ms. Click remarked, her voice sweet like table sugar.  “You know she kind of reminds me of you when you were her age, doesn’t she, Doris?” 

Doris O’Donnell hummed and pursed her lips with a little nod.

“Well, smarts-wise anyway. Boy I try not to pick favorites but you certainly were a pleasure to have in class. If I’m remembering right you were valedictorian, weren’t you?” 

You offered a weak smile, “Yep, class of ’74.”

“’74? Goodness it hasn’t been that long has it? Gosh we sure are getting old aren’t we?” she called over to Ms. O’Donnell, the beads on her glasses chain rattling as she laughed, “Oh goodness I don’t mean you sweetie,” she said, putting her hand on yours reassuringly, “Heck if I didn’t know you I would have mistaken you for a student!”

“Thank you Ms. — I mean Peggy.” You grabbed a mug from the stack and turned it over in your hands. #1 Teacher. The matte apple and text printed on the front of it was fading with age. You filled it with coffee and and grabbed a small open milk carton sitting nearby, watching the cream swirl in the mug before taking a seat at one of the three round tables with plastic veneer to look like wood. 

“Gosh, you know I don’t mean to pry, but with such a pretty face to match the good head on your shoulders I would have thought you’d have a different last name by now.”

You stared into your coffee, feeling the ghost of the ring on your finger. “Ah, yeah. Almost, but… it didn’t work out.” 

“Oh — I’m sorry sweetie, I didn’t realize.”

“It’s um — it’s fine.”

“You know there’s plenty of lovely young bachelors at St. Michael’s, we’re having a potluck tonight if you want to come.” 

It took all of your strength to hide a visible grimace. Sounds delightful. “No thanks, I can’t. I’ve offered to tutor a student after school today.”

“Who might that be?” asked Ms. Click.

“Eddie Munson.” 

The whole room groaned. 

Ms. O’Donnell cackled from her corner, her toad-like face contorting. “Good luck. I’ve been stuck with him for the last three years. Honestly I don’t know why he’s still in school. He’s too old to be here anymore if you ask me.”

Your eyes shot up from your coffee. “Well, he must have some desire to be here or otherwise he wouldn’t be. Isn’t it our duty as teachers to help students achieve milestones?” 

Ms. O’Donnell huffed, “Oh yeah, he needs help alright. None that I can give him though.” 

“I can imagine that help would be a difficult thing to offer while putting him down.”

She snorted, “Sure sweetie. Say some magic words of encouragement, that’ll do the trick. Hey, pick me up a little fairy dust too while you’re at it.” 

Laughter rang out across the teachers lounge.

Your lips formed a hard line as you popped open the tupperware container which held your salad.  

“Keep us posted, will you? We’re all dying to know how it goes.”

______

You could hear the lockers slamming shut as the din in the hallway began to die down, students filtering out with the last bell of the day. You flipped through the pile of notebook papers on your desk, making small notes on each one with a green pen before setting them onto the neat pile in front of you. You never liked to use red, too harsh. 

There was a strange feeling in your stomach that you couldn’t seem to shake. You wondered if perhaps the chicken on your salad had sat in the fridge for a few days too many. 

Your eyes shot up from your papers as you heard footsteps at the door. “Hey, Eddie.”

Eddie flashed you a smile and a little wave as he dragged a chair from the far corner of the room to the empty spot across from you and plunked himself down in it.

“How are you?” you asked.

“Oh, you know, just another day in suburban paradise.”

You chuckled dryly, “Yeah, you could say that again.”

Eddie fiddled with his rings, twisting them as he looked at you with those big dark eyes.

“So first off, let’s talk about the book we’re reading in class. Have you read any of it?”

“I did read the first few chapters, kind of lost interest though, sorry,” he admitted.

You nodded curtly. “The Catcher in the Rye seems to be a fairly polarizing book from my experience. Some students love it, others hate it. I myself am in the former camp, of course. I tend to find that most of the people who don’t like it just don’t quite understand it.”

Eddie gave a short puff of air through his nose. “I could say the same thing about most of the shit I’m interested in.”  

You smiled sympathetically. “Is reading not really your thing?”

“Actually, contrary to the opinion of a certain primate, I do like to read.”

You raised your eyebrows, “Really? Like what?”

“Fantasy mostly, The Lord of the Rings, really anything Tolkien writes. I’ve read those books a few times through actually,” he said, “Probably kind of stupid to read the same thing over and over when you could be reading other things, but — ”

“No, that’s not stupid at all! I’ve read them more than once too, actually.” Your eyes were sparkling. “They’re some of my favorites.”

Eddie sat back in his chair, a smile playing on his lips. “You? A geek? Never would have guessed.”

You smirked at him. You couldn’t quite tell if he was being sarcastic or serious. “Actually incorporating world building with storytelling the way that Tolkien does is something I’ve always tried to emulate in my own writing.”

“Your own writing?” Eddie shifted in his chair, leaning in.

“Oh, yeah,” you said, glancing downward, wishing you could suck the words back into your mouth.  

“You write books?”

“I… don’t know if you could quite call them books if they aren’t published, or totally finished but — I do like to write stories.”

Eddie’s eyes were enormous. “Can I read them? Oh please let me read them.”

The heat was back in your cheeks again. “Oh jeez, I don’t know, it’s been ages since I’ve even looked at them myself.”

Eddie leaned in even more, his elbows on the desk. “Come on,” his smile was so disarming, “What,  you think I’m gonna like, judge you or something?”

You looked down at the papers you were grading and clicked the pen in your hand. “I don’t know, writing is such an oddly… personal thing.” 

“Please? You know I’m like the last person to be passing judgement on something like that, right?”

You sighed. His eyes were big, and wet, and pleading and you cursed yourself for being stirred by them. “Ok, how about this, if you can get your grades up, get at least a B in one of your classes, I’ll let you read one of my stories.”

Eddie sat back in his chair, grinning from ear to ear. “Challenge accepted.”

You tucked your hair behind your ear as you met his smile, “Whatever motivates you,” you said trying not to think too hard about the implications of the deal you just made. “You know, what I really want to talk about is the creative writing assignment you turned in the first week of class.”

He raised his eyebrows. “That bad, huh?”  

“No! Actually not bad at all. Actually quite good. You’re very creative, Eddie.”

“Oh is that what they’re calling it these days?” he deflected.

“No, I’m serious. You’ve written stories before, haven’t you?”

“Well, I am the dungeon master for my DnD club.”

You squinted your eyes curiously at him.

“Oh! So basically, I come up with the plot of the story that they players are going to play. I create the world essentially, lead them through the story. Well, to some extent. The monsters are all from a guidebook but the plot is all me.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Creativity and leadership.”

Eddie chuckled and scratched the back of his head to distract from the heat creeping across his cheeks. “Yeah, well, doesn’t change the fact that I’m 20 years old and still in high school.”

“About that,” you started, “Why do you want to graduate? Maybe if you can identify the reason for reaching your goal, then you can find the motivation to work toward it. Besides wanting to read my stories anyway, like a personal reason.”

Eddie sat back in his chair for a moment, biting his lip in thought. “Uhh, maybe to prove all the assholes in this god forsaken purgatory wrong?”

You laughed, probably a bit too hard. “I think that’s an excellent reason.”

Eddie beamed. “See, I knew I liked you.”

You coyly returned his smile and fidgeted with the pen in your hand again. “Let’s figure out a day or two when we can meet weekly. Got any after school conflicts?”

“My band plays at the Hideout Tuesday nights, Fridays I’ve got Hellfire Club.”

“How about Mondays and Wednesdays then? Does that work for you?”

“Sure does.”

“Great, and I can help you with other classes too, to the best of my ability anyway. Show you how best to study, how to approach papers and essays — that sort of stuff.”

“Looking forward to it,” he said softly.

 The feeling in your stomach was back again. “Me too.”

______

Thank you so much for reading, tons more to come! Comments and reblogs keep me going! 🙏

Tag list: @ooo-protean-ooo @toxicjayhoo @mermaidsandcats29 @jadequeen88 @msgexymunson @wroteclassicaly @inknopewetrust @storiesbyrhi @kissmyacdc @cherry-vamps @willgrahamspsycheval

There are some of you are on this list who I talked to about this months ago! Sorry it took me a while to get this up but I’ve spent the last month outlining this monstrosity. That’s mostly out of the way now so updates should be pretty regular, like once a week. 💕

[kingscourthouse]

hold up i NEED to know more about your Xisuma Views thing.... I just saw the art with Joel and i'm obsessed

Well it's just how it sounds, it's Xisuma's view of the world. Unlike other players, he can't see the layers they have to hide.

Lemme put it like this. You're making a minecraft skin and have your second layer, yeah? That's their base layer. And then there's a second layer that's more heavily concealing.

Xisuma isn't from minecraft and his code is glitched, so not only do layers not work for him, but he can't see the layers either. Some people use only base layers to hide "actual forms" if they have one, and others use a second layer to hide scars or parts of their body that don't need a heavy cover.

So Xisuma sees people in a bit of a weird way. He thinks how he sees people is how everyone sees eachother. He sees their true character.

Skizz is a really nice guy. He's always looking out for people, tries to be there for someone, some people say he acts like an angel.

And so Xisuma never questions it. He sees Skizz as an angel, other people supposedly see him as an angel. Skizz is just an angel, why would anyone see anything else? It's just Skizz.

Though the Skizz people actually see is his layers with the torn suit and brown hair. The layers also affect his interactions with people too. If he's around Skizz, he tends to squint alot or avoid looking in his direction if he's not in his armour. Skizz is blinding to Xisuma, so he has trouble looking at him. Though Skizz does have features, but he's too bright to see any of them.

Xisuma also has a type of layer as well, but it's not on him. He's too broken in the games code (that's a whole 'nother can of worms) for him to use layers. So what does he do? He adds a layer to everyone else.

Xisuma doesn't leave hermitcraft too often, so everyone outside it will see what he really looks like. In the server though? Everyone has a layer that covers Xisuma from their eyes. He's lucky his admin panel isn't from minecraft or else he'd be screwed.

What's fun with Xisuma seeing people's real forms is that (in my au at least) he's kind of a grey character. If there's ever a fight or spat between hermits, he can have trouble taking sides. Not all Hermits are angelic or aliens like Skizz and Joel. There's hermits who are monsters and beings who do or did bad things in the past. Not all Hermits talk about those things.

He can get better insights to people's decisions or just things about them. Joel has a habit to make things around bright areas or access to a lot of light. Maybe because he's made of it. Skizz only ever keeps one pair of elytra. Maybe because he's missing his second pair of wings that can't glow anymore.

He can see people for who they were. Keralis is an eyesore (literally) and can hurt to look at. Grian has too many evenly split scars across his body and Xisuma knows what's behind them. Doc isn't a creeper.

There's a lot to Xisuma's View thing and I do wanna eventually start drawing how everyone looks to him, but I'm indecisive and don't know where to start. So idk maybe I'll open ask box for hermit requests. Can be interactions between Xisuma and specific hermits (both ones seen and not) or it can just be their design.

Idk but feel free to ask about them, I have designs for every hermit, empires member and even everyone in the life series. So he's got plenty of people to show you.

[middle-earth-mythopoeia]

No, Amazon’s Rings of Power is not “woke”

It annoys me so much when people complain about Rings of Power being “woke.” First of all, because of the way they overuse the word, woke has become a next-to-meaningless term that can be applied to anything conservatives don’t like. Second, Rings of Power is only progressive in the most surface-level way; underneath that it is in fact extremely regressive. People who whine about Rings of Power being woke are not only annoying, they’re also just plain wrong.

Ever since the casting was announced, right-wing idiots have been shrieking about Black actors being cast in Rings of Power. These trolls have made all kinds of dumb statements about how Middle-earth = Europe, but they seem willfully ignorant of the fact that Europe has never been exclusively white, and there is no reason to exclude people of color from the cast of any Tolkien adaptation. Still, this didn’t make the show progressive in its casting (which was tokenistic) or its writing (which ranges from bad to horrible).

For instance, the only storyline Amazon writers could apparently think of to introduce Arondir was literally him being enslaved. I mean, really? Is that really the best plotline to go with? To be clear, I’m not criticizing the actor, I’m criticizing the writing. In addition, Amazon cast actors of color overwhelmingly in parts invented for the show—rather than as actual Tolkien characters—which more easily allows them to be sidelined by the narrative, and the casting overall was in no way diverse enough. So I find it bizarre that people criticize the show for its so-called wokeness, when very little effort was made from a diversity and inclusion standpoint.

Right-wing nutjobs also threw a fit about Amazon portraying Galadriel as a warrior, to the point where they started calling her “Guyladriel.” They whined about Galadriel being too feminist and too masculine in the show, but that’s the opposite of what happened and betrays a fundamental misunderstanding of Galadriel as a character. First of all, she fought at Alqualondë in one version of the story, so no one should have a problem with her wielding a sword. What IS a problem is everything else about her portrayal.

Amazon’s writers took one of Tolkien’s most interesting characters and stripped her of her power, her authority, her gravitas, her wisdom, and her ambition. They had Gil-galad, her younger cousin, order her around. They had Elendil compare her to his children, even though she’s older than the sun and moon. And they made her a petty, naïve, incompetent brat whose entire first season involves being manipulated by Sauron, and as if that wasn’t bad enough, having a bizarre will-they-won’t-they relationship with him. In addition, Galadriel is canonically tall and strong, and one of her names means “man-maiden,” but they made her short and waif-like instead.

Galadriel in Amazon’s show doesn’t even resemble the character Tolkien wrote—the character named Nerwen, who never trusted Annatar, who certainly never had some creepy Reylo thing with him, who was powerful and wise and authoritative, who had a marvelous gift of insight into the minds of others—not a quippy, rude, annoying idiot who is constantly being controlled by the men around her. I don’t know why anyone would look at Rings of Power and think this portrayal is progressive. It’s actually a failure of imagination: Amazon’s writers literally cannot conceive of a powerful woman even when all of the work of imagining her has been done for them.

In addition to the faux-feminist-and-actually-sexist portrayal of Galadriel, Rings of Power is also on the whole weirdly regressive from the standpoint of gender roles and gender expression. Tolkien’s Elves are canonically tall, beautiful, and long-haired, regardless of gender. Tolkien’s Dwarves all have beards. So what did Amazon do? They gave most of their male Elves short hair, while the female Elves still have long hair, and they did away with female Dwarves’ beards. They patted themselves on the back for “letting” Galadriel fight, but don’t show other female warriors—in battle scenes, for instance, why are all the soldiers male? In general, they made their characters adhere to conservative gender roles and gender expression, which is especially glaring because it contradicts what Tolkien actually wrote.

On top of all this, they decided to throw in some anti-Irish stereotypes with a side of classism, just for fun. They had the ragged, dirty, primitive Harfoots speaking in Irish accents, while the regal, ethereal, advanced Elves speak with English accents. None of the actors playing the Harfoots are Irish themselves, to my knowledge, which makes the choice to have them speak this way especially questionable. Seriously, who thought this was a good idea?

All in all, it makes absolutely no fucking sense to criticize Rings of Power for being woke. It may look progressive on the surface because there’s a Black Elf and a woman with a sword, but that’s as far as it goes. The show isn’t particularly diverse to begin with, and it treats its characters of color poorly. Galadriel’s portrayal is disgustingly regressive, as is the show’s overarching take on gender. This is to say nothing of the caliber of the writing in general, which is unsurprisingly low. There is so much to criticize—like the nonsense about mithril, or the fact that Celebrimbor of all people doesn’t understand alloys, or the fact that you can apparently swim across the Sundering Seas now—which makes complaining about the show’s supposed wokeness especially irrational.

I also have to wonder if the people still whining about wokeness know anything about Tolkien’s works. Do they know that the crown of Gondor was based on the crown of the Pharaohs of Egypt? Do they know that Tolkien considered Byzantium the basis for Minas Tirith? Do they know that female warriors already exist in Tolkien’s books? Do they know when they rant about how much they hate “Guyladriel” that Amazon’s portrayal is actually too feminine? Ultimately, people who complain about wokeness in Rings of Power—or any Tolkien adaptation—are just betraying their own idiocy. I honestly think if Tolkien’s books were published now conservatives would scream that they’re woke too.

[mmani-e]

I've finally finished my Danganronpa AU personal project! I personally call it

DANGANRONPA: DEMIX

See Demix 1 here

And yeah, all the swaps as you can see above, and these guys in the middle are the replacements for Monokuma and Usami respectively:

Check out under the cut for some design insights on my take AND closer pictures of each pair:

Finally finished my personal AU project. I hope it's to everyone's liking!

I can go on forever about these designs but I'll limit myself to one-two sentences on some facts about the designs.

Mikan: Mikan's face tattoo was commissioned on her against her will so that she can never hide her nature as a Yakuza, but her leg tattoo was done on purpose, and she and Nagito have matching tattoos on their legs, his is just hidden most the time.

Nagito: He is usually seen with a spear and prefers the weapon over the sword, but he is more famous for his natural skill with the blade. That said, he resents the blade and wishes he could be recognized for the things he actually works hard to do, like throwing spears or protecting Mikan and her family.

Ibuki: I kept her design very similar to her base design because she pretty much just looks like a student, and I don't want to change anyone's personality so there's no reason for her to not get highlights. But I gave her some more symmetry in this design and gave her a cute little semi ahoge I guess with a hair tie, bc she doesn't naturally have one.

Imposter/Gamemaster: Yeah I made the big brain choice to keep him with his colors as "Byakuya" because it made for a more striking visual, and more recognizeable as the impostor. Also I made him too tall because I wanted to give him big legs lol.

Hiyoko: Her four cats are named Heart (scraggly cat), Mr. Pearls (sleepy cat), Big Red (Giant cat), and BB (black cat) bc canonically the four dark devas are named after shonen manga, I named her cats after pokemon games, which she canonically likes playing. Also chickens are her favorite animal, despite her love of cats.

Kazuichi: Kazuichi's not a natural born prince, through shenanigans it turns out he's extremely distantly related to some royal line in a microstate north of germany called "Nordsumpf." Their main exports are cars and Kazuichi is still new to being a prince.

"Kyoko": She'd try her best to act like Kyoko, but she's a little too meek and openy affectionate to pull it off properly. Also her knockers are way bigger than Kyoko's, so there's an immediate discrepancy to the trained eye.

Also in my au of DR1, Kyoko is the ultimate affluent progeny and Makoto is author/serial killer.

Hajime: His hair is actually extremely long back there, he just keeps it tied up. On shows he lets it all out and a wears red contacts, his stage name is "Izuru."

Sonia: Sonia became a team manager because she was escaping an assasination attempt, strolled into a junior laegue soccer game, took over for the coach and started just barking orders and the team won. They were the worst team in the whole league and after that she just sorta stuck around them and won them the championships.

Gundham: Gundham was orginally meant to wear the japanese flag… but there was too much white in his design so I cut it. He has names for all of his gymnast moves and he announces them very loudly when he does any of them.

Peko: I tried to give Peko a unique sort of "zombie survivor" kinda vibe so while she's clearly a mechanic first she can also just fucking kill you by braining you with that monkey wrench. Most of the time she's cool though, she's just like horribly dependent on other people to tell her what to do, so she attaches to Kazuichi because he's the most immediately available authority figure.

Fuyuhiko: He's got that sort of machismo that makes him not like to admit he loves dancing, but the moment he's complimented on it he'll really appreciate it. Also he's still part of a crime family, but it's just not as strong as Mikan's.

Akane: She really looks sporty still, but don't worry she's definitely "lucky," she's just much more focused on the future than her bad luck in the moment… which can be very bad, actually, and can make her come across as kind of aloof.

Nekomaru: Why is nurse Nekomaru not as common a thing. Just think about it, it's perfect. Nekomaru here got inspired by the bravery and hard work of the nurses that treated him and boom he became a nurse, nobody tougher than healthcare professionals after all.

Mahiru: Mahiru as a nurse is honestly a really really really fun concept but I feel like I wasn't very ambitious here, and I can't really show it through the drawing but one of my early drafts had her look more like a european chef a la gordon ramsey bc I headcanon her as a scot.

Teruteru: Decided to give him a raincoat which my sister pointed out to me could also be a trenchcoat, which is just PERFECT for a creep like him. It just writes itself man, though seriously he's mostly a landscape photographer who specializes in pics of the countryside. Still a huge perv tho.

Usowa: Name is a combo of Usagi and Chowa, the word for Harmony. She's less like a chaotic force of nature like Monokuma and more a manipulative and hardline teacher who coaxes the students into doing awful things by playing into their insecuritoies with motives, and which then causes them to kill, allowing her to punish them, "weeding out the weak and undisciplined among their ranks." She replaces Monokuma.

Kyojuma: Name is a combo of Kyoju (professor) and Kuma. He's a pretty silly guy with an easy temper to poke at, but he's good at heart and tries his best to be a more sort of "fun" teacher than the rules lawyer Usami kinda was. He just wants to help his students, too bad Usowa showed up and decidedly does NOT like his approach.

[chiefdirector]

Returning | Tim Bradford | The Rookie

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine

“Asking you not to speak with her would be pointless, wouldn’t it,” (Y/N) asked as she shoved some of the clothes Tim had brought to the hospital back into the duffel bag. She was waiting to be discharged, despite having a gunshot wound, the bullet didn’t cause a lot of damage, leaving her with a lot of motion and not a lot of reason to stay at the hospital any longer. 

“You would do the same,” Tim pointed out, passing her a charging cord to pack, “you have done the same.”

“That’s different.”

“How?”

(Y/N) stopped packing and turned to face her husband. Since she had awoken in the hospital, the pair of them had a silent understanding that they did not need to discuss the details of what and why she had been off the grid for the last two years. “Because Regina threatened the people I care about, she threatened you. Now, she’s reaching for scraps; trying to cause damage wherever she can.”

“But there is a chance that she has information that could prevent this from happening to someone else. We have to do this. I have to.”

“I know.” (Y/N) looked down, toying with her hands. “Just promise me you will be careful. She knows a lot about you, us, and she won’t be afraid to use it. She will lie to you about me. Promise you won’t believe her.”

Tim moved to cup (Y/N)‘s cheek and tilted her head up so he would look her in the eye. “I know you, baby. There is nothing that she could say that would make me doubt you. I promise you that.”

-----

It was strange, being back at the Mid-Wilshire station. Seeing all of the hustle and bustle of the officers going around their daily business. As she and Tim walked through the station, they received a number of looks from happy and relieved to just plain strange. It was to be expected though, Tim had told her just how big the operation was to find her, both when she vanished and the bust recently. 

For a long time (Y/N) never thought she would be back here. Of all the places she had been since her discharge, this was the most jarring. When they had gone back to their home, (Y/N) thought that she might find it strange, that she may feel like she doesn’t belong but it was the opposite. She felt like she had never left. 

Tim had gone back to the house to change a few times during her hospital stay, and in those few fleeting hours, he had ensured that she would have everything she would need. All of her belongings were where she had left them, as if she had only gone away for the day. The act nearly brought (Y/N) to tears, but she managed to blink them away; however, being back at the station, she didn’t think that she would be able to have such self control again. 

Tim was guiding her through the station, her hand in his, as they moved through the crowds towards the interrogation room. He didn’t stop for anyone, he had always been good at telling when (Y/N) was feeling emotional. It was as if he could sense her sadness before she could, initially he found it weird that he could read her so well, but it was moments like this when she wasn’t forthcoming with how she was feeling or what was bothering her. 

Stopping outside the interrogation room, Tim gently dropped her hand, allowing her to go into the observation room next door. Despite the department’s reluctance to let her back so soon, (Y/N) insisted on being there, she knew how Regina worked and operated, she had been a victim to her games and lies. She said that she could potentially provide insight that nobody else could, but that was not why she wanted to be there. She wanted, needed even, to see the woman who had caused her so much pain, grief, and anguish in chains. If she was to ever move on, (Y/N) had to start by seeing Regina Diaz in custody.

(Y/N) moved towards the observation room door before turning back to face Tim. She looked at him for a moment, watching his movements as he also paused outside the interrogation room. She smiled softly before mouthing I love you.

I love you too. He replied.

----- 

(Y/N) stayed in the observation room for what felt like a day but was in fact only just under an hour. She heard the conversation between Regina and Tim but she absorbed none of it. She felt like a stranger in her own body as she watched the two talk. Instead, she fiddled with her wedding ring, just counting the agonisingly long seconds until they were done. People had filtered in and out of the room, some to watch the verbal battle between Tim and Diaz, others came to see how (Y/N) was doing, to see if she was adjusting well. 

They asked about her time undercover, and why she had stayed away. She answered them all the same. “It was for the better.” 

The only person who had refuted that statement was Wade Grey. He had come just after Smitty had left, two coffees in hand from them to talk over. (Y/N) cracked a small smile as she looked down at the mugs he held. One was a WORLD'S BEST BOSS mug (Y/N) had given Grey on her first Christmas she spent working at Mid-Wilshire, and the other was a mug from a gift set Luna and Wade had gotten her for a birthday. It was her favourite despite the chips in the pink glaze adorning the outside.

Like Tim, Grey had an easy time seeing through the emotional facade that (Y/N) put up, now more so than ever. He never spoke to others on why he was so protective of her, but he was the reason she had joined the police force.

She was only seventeen when he was called out to her family’s apartment. He had responded to a call of a burglary. He did not have enough evidence to make an arrest, the case got passed over to the detectives, but there was something about the girl who held her mother as she cried that stayed with him. Soon enough, he took her under his wing, and she became like a second daughter to him, so much so he had walked her down the aisle at her wedding. They worked hard to keep their work relationship professional, but he helped her when he could, he was the one who spoke to the sergeant in charge of the detectives to help her get a leg up in her career. 

He knew her too well sometimes, but in moments like this, he was glad he could.

“Here, I brought you a coffee, thought you could use it,” He held the cup out to her, and took a sip of his own. “I’m sorry I didn’t come see you sooner.”

“It’s fine, Wade, honestly. I know you have been busy with everything.”

He breathed out a laugh, “You can say that again.”

(Y/N) looked over to the man, the familiarity of being back in the station with him and watching Tim work felt comfortably familiar. “How is it going? The case that is.”

“Slow. We have charged all of Diaz’s employees that we could fine, most are reoffenders so their chances of an easy sentence is low. We have also charged Ms. Diaz, she will never see the light of day again if I have anything to do with it, but she offered information that could be valuable. But I was hoping that we wouldn’t have to.”

“What are you saying?”

“What do you know about your case worker, Kade Sullivan?”

Part Nine | Part Eleven

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Tags: @xceafh @kmc1989 @buba424 @salty0cracker @iamasimpingh0e

Tags are open, just need to ask:)

[zahri-melitor]

“It was only six feet,” muttered Dick.

“What did you just say?”

Dick sighed and rubbed his face. “I know you woke up in a grave and it was very traumatic for you, but you’re acting like this is the only time it had ever happened to anyone. You just had to dig straight up. Do you hear me complaining about it?”

"I'm sorry, did my ongoing trauma from being beaten to death and then waking up in a confined box make you feel uncomfortable, Dick?"

"You just keep going on about it like you're the only person who has ever experienced this. It sucks. No question. But getting out for you was basically on easy mode."

"It tore my fingernails off. I almost SUFFOCATED."

"That is part of being in a coffin, yes Jason."

“What are you talking about?” Tim walked into the room, towelling his hair dry from his shower.

“Being buried alive.”

“Digging myself out of my own grave.” Jason and Dick answered simultaneously.

“Well which is it?”

Jason glared at Dick. “Digging myself out. Dick here thinks that I’m blowing things out of proportion by being slightly upset about that building partly collapsing on me tonight.”

“Well, that is a conversation I can’t contribute to, so I’ll leave you both to it and go to bed.” Tim dropped the towel in a laundry basket and started to walk away.

“Tim,” Dick reached out to catch his arm. "What do you mean, which one?"

Tim shrugged a shoulder. "Well the only insights I have about being buried alive are 'sit tight and wait for rescue and slow your heartrate so you're not using so much oxygen' so I don't really think I need to be here. Good night."

"When have you ever needed that? And if you did, you didn't try to dig yourself out?" Jason said skeptically. "That's your view? Stay in one spot and wait for help? Because trying that in Ethopia worked so well for me."

"I was under a concrete slab. There wasn't much that I could do."

Dick tugged Tim around to face him more fully. "And when was this exactly? I don't remember that case report."

"It was during AzBats; that's why you haven't read it. And I was fine. Steph eventually got me out."

They stared at each other. Dick looked away first. "I wish you'd had more support back then."

Tim smiled, one side of his face quirking up. "You had your own problems."

"Wait a minute. Back up. When was this?" Jason interrupted.

Dick looked back at Tim. Tim rolled his eyes up slightly. "When Tim here was a little baby Robin. Thirteen or so."

"Excuse you, I had had my fourteenth birthday by then. I had my licence."

"Oh I'm sorry, when he was fourteen years old. And far more grown up."

"That's right."

"You were buried alive under concrete?" Jason sounded incredulous.

"It happened. Why, did you think you were the only one? Dick once tunneled out of a grave sideways and almost fell off a cliff into the sea."

"I didn't think you knew about that time," Dick said, his voice soft.

Tim grinned. "You left some notes in your own computer system about it."

"Stalker."

"You like me that way."

"You've both also been buried alive?" Jason threw his hands in the air.

"Mmhmmm." Tim yawned and stretched, walking towards the stairs.

"As I was saying, it can get a bit tiring listening to you go on about it," Dick added, following him.

"I DIED!"

"Yes and you never ever let any of us forget it." Dick slung an arm over Tim's shoulder, then turned his head back to look at Jason. "Want some hot chocolate before bed?"

[ghcstao3]

ok more of this already because i’m so normal. anyway disregarding canon for the 66th hunger games because that’s where i’m putting ghost

(also only bullet points because i might write a whole thing)

cw for usual hunger games things

anyway some hcs/details mostly about ghost’s games (this is long so strap in):

- by this point, it isn’t unheard of for tributes to act unthreatening during the days leading to the games, to maybe have a chance at surprise attacks—which is a strategy simon takes. what is unheard of in recent years, however, is something like simon’s insistence on having no allies. on being a lone wolf. he does it because he always has been alone, in some sense, and he doesn’t trust these other tributes in any capacity to not turn on him.

- his mentor isn’t any help. vernon is nothing but a bitter old man who, in simon’s opinion, didn’t earn his victory. he knows that’s something horrible to say, but it’s true. not with the way he treats simon, and presumably the other previous tributes, too. simon may as well be going in blind.

- the shy, awkward boy act isn’t at all an act. simon’s never been a people person, his outfits all itch, and the feeling of eyes on him has him nervous. paranoid. the upside is that the capitol somehow finds it endearing, which means sponsors. the downside is that, because of the lack of insight into him as a person as a cause of his quiet nature, it leaves too much room for speculation. it’s part of the reason he becomes sought out after winning—the capitol sees a nice face, assumes things that aren’t true, and suddenly he’s stuck as nothing more than a trophy to be passed around.

- he only scores an 8 after evaluation—this is done with intent.

- his arena is a jungle (not unlike the comics.. hint), foliage too thick to navigate with decent speed, and full of muttation insects, reptiles, and amphibians. the trees are too thin to climb or use to hide, and nor are there any caves—essentially, staying on the ground is anyone’s only option. the cornucopia is a large grove, and after the first day, it rains for days straight, until the ninth day.

- simon runs for the cornucopia. he knows it’s stupid, but he also knows how to dodge blows courtesy of his father, so he’s able to grab supplies and get out alive, granted with a few mostly superficial cuts. he knew he needed knives from the start—his most familiar weapon.

- it takes two days before he makes his first kill. it’s too easy, when it’s a girl paralysed and slowly dying from a poison spreading through her, turning her veins an inky black and rotting her skin. simon’s first kill is mercy.

- his second is a career, the boy from 4. the career pack is together when he comes across them, but he finds them first. when the opportunity presents itself and the boy is just separated enough, simon silently appears and slits his throat before disappearing back into the foliage. the rest of the pack only notices they’re missing someone because the cannon fires. none of them ever find out simon had done it.

- stealth ends up his strategy, and it’s what gets him the nickname ghost. he acts like an apparition and is done his work before anyone is the wiser of his actions. he ends up killing 8 of 24 tributes.

- he doesn’t sleep almost the entirety of the games. haunted by his actions, because part of him knows all of it wasn’t necessary. some kills, sure, were to protect himself—but not all of them. some were just to get ahead of the game, and it plants a gnawing guilt in the pit of his stomach.

- simon almost dies when the girl from 7 tries to kill him in the rare time he’s drifted off. he wakes up to an unbearable heat around him, sweat beading off his skin and light behind his eyes and when he’s finally up, he’s burning. she’d lit a fire around himin the hopes it would kill him because she didn’t want the guilt of having actually done the action. he lives—escapes—but suffers burns on part of his face and body that all just contribute more to the nickname. he’d come back from the dead, they all say, but really, he just woke up in the nick of time. but because the capitol still wants him desirable after he wins, to use him, extensive measures and surgery are taken to visibly reverse the damage once the games are over.

- simon wins on the twelfth day using, fittingly, a butcher’s cleaver. he had picked it up around day six off another tribute, and uses it to kill the one other tribute—the boy from 5—after a fight that comes much closer to killing them both than anyone would’ve liked. eventually, though, simon turns out victor.

- his father barely acknowledges him when he comes back. simon returns to work for a bit, despite the insistence that he doesn’t have to, but he needs something to occupy his mind. but then killing cattle and other livestock rears up too much trauma, and he ends up quitting and isolating himself for a while afterwards—but only until president snow had decided to fix him up and sell him to the capitol.

- seven years after his game is when he’s introduced to johnny. immediately, he’s struck by the man as someone he could maybe, maybe eventually trust. johnny isn’t like the man that had made the current transaction for him, or anyone simon had been put with previously, so it’s… nice. for once, he isn’t used. not for his body, anyway.

- when simon thinks he’s seen the last of johnny after that visit, the man puts in another bid for him, one that’d last longer. only to talk, he says, and that this is really the only way he can get him to the capitol. it happens again and again and the most they ever do is kiss during their last visit before simon has to mentor another tribute for the 73rd games, because better him than vernon.

- the visits continue following—they also spend quite a bit of time together during simon’s mentoring, and johnny even helps with getting sponsors—and they fall into something of a relationship, though it’s kept a very well-hidden secret.

- their routine continues until the second rebellion starts up, but that’s another post (or a fic itself) >:)

[dira333]

Assistant to the Hero Part I - Amajiki x Reader

Requested by @fuzztacular , part II will follow tomorrow. Part of my Follower Celebration

- 5 days as his assistant

With only a few days left until Washio-san’s retirement party, you’re just a little surprised that they’re calling you in for an interview.

You’ve worn your best clothes to work every day for the last two weeks, hoping against hope that you’ll be called in. Washio-san has been Suneater’s assistant ever since he started working at Fatgum’s agency. You’ve heard all the rumors.

How he’s picky, doesn’t talk to anyone but Fatgum and Washio-san - or maybe Kirishima-kun, and never attends any office parties.

But you’ve also heard of him from Kirishima-kun - one of the three junior Heroes you’re managing - and he tells an entirely different story.

With three years at the agency under your belt, you’re more than ready to take on one of the bigger sidekicks of Fatgum and you know that you’re capable of assisting Suneater. All you need is a chance.

And if the ongoing interviews are any indication, he hasn’t picked his new assistant yet.

-

“Y/N, welcome.” Washio-san is a grey-haired woman. You’ve never met her without a smile on her lips or a colorful pin on her blazer. Today, she’s got a tiny, vibrantly purple hummingbird pinned to her chest.

“Thank you for thinking of me.” You shake her hand and take a seat.

“I’m sorry we didn’t approach you sooner, but you might know that quite a few assistants were up for a promotion. Since you’ve finished your first three years with great reviews from everyone around, it’s also your choice which sidekick you want to work for.”

That’s news to you. “It’s… my choice?”

Washio-san nods and shuffles her papers, waiting for you to make your move. But you don’t know what to say. Should you tell them that you want to work for Suneater? But surely everyone wants to work for him. But if you don’t say his name and pick someone else and no one ends up picking him? He’d be heartbroken to hear that.

“Who…” You start and cough awkwardly to clear your throat. “I mean I’m sure that if everyone got to voice their choice, quite a few choose the same hero, am I right?”

“Yes.”

“Who…” You look down at your hands to steel your nerves. “Who didn’t get picked? It’s… It’s not that I don’t have preferences, I’d lie if I said I don’t. But I always felt that at this agency, everyone was doing their best. No one deserves not to get picked. I’d rather assist someone misunderstood than just voice my preference.”

“Well, isn’t that nice of you?” Washio-san smiles knowingly. “I’m happy to report that no one went without a pick so far. But I believe that Suneater got picked the least.”

The relieved sigh leaves your lips before you can hold it back.

Washio-san’s knowing grin grows only wider and you bite your lip.

“Well, in that case, someone else picked him already, right?” You blunder on. “A-and it w-wouldn’t be fair to take their place. Not that I could take it that lightly, I mean, you’d have to decide that, right?”

“Why do you think you’d be a better match as Suneater’s assistant.”

There’s a new tone to Washio-san’s voice, like steel hidden behind velvet. You’re reminded that she’s kept working here for all her life, all three of her pregnancies and that she basically built up this agency. Suneater is probably like a son to her. A grandson, more likely.

You won’t get past her with flattery or trying to sound nice. And you owe her your honesty.

“I don’t think that I get to say who’s the best match for him.” You tell her, voice strong now that you talk from your heart. “I think everyone could work well with him if they treat him with basic decency. Kirishima talks highly about him and I believe Kirishima above all else.”

Washio-san nods and gets up. “Thank you. This will be all.”

“O-Oh… of course.” You scramble to get up yourself, shake her hand when she offers it, and walk to the door. This interview hasn’t given you any insight on the matter but you’re just a junior assistant anyway.

“Oh, by the way.” Washio-san calls out when you’re at the door. “Just between the two of us. You would have picked him, am I right? Suneater, I mean.”

“I…” You shrug, mouth pulled into a tight line. “Yeah,” you admit softly. “But I’ll work with whomever you pick for me. I like all of our sidekicks a lot.”

-

-1 day as his assistant

Five minutes before you have to leave for Washio-san’s retirement party, your computer pings, signaling incoming mail.

You click on the letter icon, ignoring Kirishima’s excited babbling about yesterday’s patrol.

The letter is short, but it leaves your head spinning.

“Kirishima?” You grind through your teeth. “I got the position.”

“No way!” He’s on your back immediately, his weight crushing you against your keyboard. “NO FREAKING WAY!!”

-

To Kirishima, you're celebrating your new job. You have to remind him constantly not to tell everyone he meets. This is still Washio-san’s retirement party after all.

She hugs you, thanks you profoundly for the pin you wrapped as delicately as you could. It's a silver squid, its tentacles glittering with deep indigo stones. It cost you almost an entire month of pay but it's so worth the smile on her face.

“This might be my favorite present, “ she tells you in a whisper, “But don't tell anyone. It reminds me of Tamaki.”

The man itself is nowhere to be seen. He's not on patrol, that you know from Kirishima, but you would have been surprised to see him at a party with this many guests anyway.

Only when the cake has almost been devoured and the drinks are already finished, you spot his trademark indigo hair.

He's wearing skinny jeans and a black cardigan and of you hadn't known him, you might have taken him as an overworked accountant.

“I put some cake away.” You tell him, plate in hand. “Kirishima said you like sweet stuff.”

He flushes bright red and his mouth forms a line that's so straight you could use it as a ruler.

“Oh, I am sorry, I didn't want to surprise you.” You rub your neck awkwardly. “We don't even have to talk. I’m your new assistant, starting tomorrow. I’ll just leave this here with you.”

You offer him the plate and he takes it, hands shaking.

It's obvious that he's trying to talk, just as obvious that he's trying to make eye contact, but he's failing at both.

“You don't have to make eye contact with me.” You point out softly. “Just look at my shoulder when you address me. That's more than enough.”

A heavy sigh leaves him when he does so

“I wanna go home.” He mutters, flushes even brighter when he seems to realize what he just said.

“I get that. I think it makes it that much more special that you still showed up for Washio-san. I will get her for you, so that you can leave right after, okay?”

“O-okay.”

-

1 Month as his assistant

It’s a good thing that you don’t like small talk or feel the need to fill Silence with chatter. If you keep quiet long enough, Suneater will forget that you exist and almost relax while doing his paperwork, sometimes even humming a tune under his breath.

When you keep exceptionally quiet, you might even allow yourself to look at him from the corner of your eye.

He is, without a doubt, the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen.

He is also nice, capable in a fight, and a good boss when he can do things in writing instead of approaching you directly.

-

Every week, without fail, a little present will pop up on your table, usually when you come back from lunch and he’s on his way out to patrol.

Some chocolates, a single Daisy in a drinking glass, a foreign coin that’s polished so well it reflects the sunlight.

It feels like little presents one would get from a bird and in a way, he reminds you of one, how shy and on edge he is all the time.

The first time you hadn’t been sure if the gifts were really coming from him. After all, there was still creepy Jin from Accounting who liked to bring you gifts in the hopes you’d go on a date with him in exchange.

But Jin’s presents had always been more showy and he’d never take the chance that you mistook it for someone else's work.

You’d written a card then, just in case, and put it on top of the paperwork Suneater had to sign.

“Thank you for the Chocolate, it’s my favorite kind. I hope it was from you. If not, please just mark this card with an X and put it back on my table and I will not mention it again.”

The card never came back to you. You found it in one of the drawers of his desk instead, when you went looking for a file for Fatgum a week later.

-

“Have you seen Suneater?” Some girl from Accounting bursts through the door of your office. You blink up at her in perfectly veiled annoyance.

“Bathroom break, I think.” You offer politely and she huffs in annoyance and leaves, leaving the door open.

You get up to close it, hearing a mumbled “Thank you.” from behind his desk when you go back to your chair.

“Of course.” You send a smile in his direction, barely able to see the tip of his right ear and some of his hair from where you sit. He’d been hiding behind the table for over an hour now, dropped down on the floor in a heap right after patrol, and refused any offer of water or blankets.

“You can call me Amajiki.” He mumbles again. “Tamaki Amajiki.”

“Thank you, Amajiki-kun.” You dare to say a few more words, hoping it won’t backfire. “If you want to talk about something, I’m always here to listen.”

“It’s stupid.”

“I’m sure it’s not.”

“My roommate’s moving out.”

You blink. That answer is unexpected.

“You’re not happy about it, I assume?”

“He’s my best friend.”

You nod, now understanding at least some extent of the problem.

“Did you have a fight, or…?”

“He’s moving in with his girlfriend.”

“Oh, that’s a big step. How do you feel about it?”

Amajiki moves back and your eyes meet for the briefest of moments before he turns the other way, now hiding completely from your sight.

He’s quiet for a while and you imagine how red he must be, the way he always turns when you can’t help but talk to him.

“Whether you feel sad about it or upset or anything else, your feelings are valid.” You say into the Silence when he’s still not talking. “I still remember when my roommate moved out.”

“Why did they move out?”

“Oh, Kyoko got married right after College.” You tell him. “And I was so happy for her, because Ryūnosuke is the nicest guy ever, but you can’t help but wish that some things stay the same forever, right? We had such a nice thing going on. After she left, I couldn’t find a long-term roommate for that apartment and had to move into something smaller.”

You bite your lip when you realize that you’re talking about yourself. Hasn’t being quiet paid off well for you up until now?

“Where do you live?”

Surprise washes over you. Does Amajiki want you to keep talking?

Heart beating loudly, you explain where you live. Your cheeks burn when he speaks up again.

“That neighborhood is not the safest.”

“No.” You clear your throat, Shame climbing up your neck. “But it’s cheap.”

“If you need-” You interrupt him before he can offer you a place to stay - you don’t want pity.

“Accounting girl is coming back.” If you can hear her stomping that well through the door, you fear for the ears of those outside

Amajiki falls quiet and you wait, wondering if he’ll get up to face her.

He doesn’t.

The door bursts open yet again.

“Is Suneater here now?”

You level the girl with an annoyed glare.

“No, he’s not here right now, he’s just left for lunch.”

“Why didn’t you tell him to wait?” She asks, clearly angry.

“I don’t work for you. What do you need him for anyway?”

“None of your business.”

“I’m his assistant. It’s very much my business.”

“Fine.” She huffs and places a folder on your desk. You recognize the color immediately. This isn’t something she’d ever need Amajiki for.

“But tell him to call me as soon as he can.”

“Will do.” You say and cross your fingers in your mind.

-

1,5 Months as his assistant

You put the perfectly round pebble on Amajiki’s table.

“What’s that?” He asks and picks it up to inspect it.

“I found it on my way here and thought you’d like it.” You say, ashamed of it now that you can hear yourself say the words. “But you can just throw it away if you don’t… I just thought because of the stuff you bring me…”

He pulls open a drawer, takes out a box, and opens it, carefully placing the pebble inside.

“Thank you.” He says without making eye contact. “It’s appreciated.”

“Very well.” You move over to your own desk, knowing full well that he’d just get nervous if you stand around him too much.

“What’s that?” You pick up the folder and read the first paragraph. “An ad for a roommate?”

“I have to start looking for one.” His voice has started quivering now, a clear sign that he’s getting nervous. You focus on reading to give him some space.

“Amajiki?” You make a point to never look directly at his face. Looking at the name tag on his desk usually works fine.

“If you want me to proof read the ad I have to say that it’s well written. The price is too low however. You should raise it, considering where you live.”

“The price is fine. Can you… do the interviews?”

“Sure.” You nod. “I’ll pick three people and let you decide from there. Do you only want male roommates or?”

“Both is fine.” He chokes out and you nod, turning back to your work.

-

2,5 Months as his assistent

The noise from below is deafening.

You’re hiding in the closet, cradling your emergency bag to your chest.

It’s not the first night you’re losing sleep because some villain or other decided that he wanted to prove himself in your neighboorhood. This time the target must have been the pizzeria below your apartment.

The door to your apartment crashes open but you manage to flinch only slightly.

Steps echo through the little space, someone yells something from the staircase - the hallways outside create a very distinct kind of echo - and your apartment falls quiet again.

You stay where you are and wait, phone in your hand.

It’s almost midnight when you hear steps again, this time quieter.

“Everything clear.” You know that voice.

Slowly you open your closet door to peer outside.

The lights are on and in the doorway, Kirishima is trying to put your door back into its frame.

“Kirishima?” You ask, surprised to see him here.

“Oi! What are you doing in the closet?” He’s at your side in a heartbeat, pulling you up. “Did someone kidnap you? Amajiki! Come here!”

“No, I live here.” You protest when Kirishima pulls you towards the door.

Amajiki, who’s just stepped in, freezes at your sight.

“You live here?” Kirishima sounds surprised but not judgy and you’re thankful for that.

“You’re not hurt, right?” Amajiki is still unable to look into your eyes, but he makes a point in looking at your shoes and your elbows as if those are the places to check for injuries.

“Completely fine. I hid in the closet.”

“That was pretty dangerous.” Kirishima tells you. “How would you have defended yourself?”

“I-”

“Where are you sleeping tonight?” Amajiki interrupts you, glaring at the door instead of you as he speaks. “The door is broken.”

“I’m just going to grab some change of clothes and leave for the agency. I can take a nap there and get an early start.”

“I have a free room.” You stare at Amajiki with your mouth open.

Before you can refuse the offer, Kirishima already claps you on the back with more force than necessary.

“That’s a great idea. That’s so manly of you, Amajiki!”

-

“They’re sending someone to fix my door tomorrow, err, today, I mean. Later today.”

“There’s no rush.” Amajiki is staring at his fridge as you carry your bag into his apartment.

“The smaller bedroom is free. I have to get back to patrol. The bus to the agency leaves every fifteen minutes at the corner. I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah, thank you.”

It’s weird being in his apartment by yourself even though you’ve been here before.

He’d shown you around once, told you what he could compromise on, and gave you a key to show others around.

That had been about a month ago but he’d yet to agree to anyone you thought he’d be compatible with.

Something you’d been annoyed with yesterday but had to be thankful for tonight when it meant you could crash in his spare room.

Here, in the quiet dark, the fear comes back with vengeance.

You’d been doing a lot of hiding in your closet lately and while you’d come out safe every time so far, you’d have to do something about that.

Just not right now.

You click the light back on, make sure that the front door is locked twice and all windows are closed, and fall asleep to a one-hour loop of coffee shop music.

-

“I have someone new for you.” You tell Amajiki when he comes into the agency around four.

“How’s your door?”

You frown. “Not fixed yet. So, before you say no again, this person-”

“You can stay in my apartment until the door is fixed.” He offers and this time, you look at him directly. He flinches in surprise when he notices your glare and you soften it immediately.

“Amajiki. Ask me who that person is that wouldn’t mind being your roommate.”

“Who’s that person?” He asks, voice timid.

“Me. Well, if you think that would work out. And just until I find something I can rent on my own, I don’t want to bother you longer than necessary.” You regret your words the moment you say them out loud. He wanted to be nice and you’re taking advantage of it.

Amajiki looks like he’s about to faint.

“You can say no if you don’t feel comfortable with it.” You offer softly. “I won’t be mad, I promise.”

“When can you move in?”

-

3 Months as his assistant

“You’re out of milk.” You point out. “And we need more eggs.”

Behind you, Amajiki scribbles down your shopping list of the week.

“I’m taking the train out for the weekend.” You tell him as you move towards the kitchen sink to do the breakfast dishes. “You have the whole living area to yourself until Sunday night.”

He doesn’t look like he cares about that.

Living with him is as weird and yet easy as working with him.

Amajiki’s room is bigger than yours because he rarely leaves it. Work is consuming as it is and he likes to just stay inside when he can.

You’re not sure if he reads or listens to music or watches TV or just sleeps away his free time, but you barely see him even if you’re both home at the same time.

At least he’s letting you cook and pay for the groceries to make up for the ridiculously cheap rent. Even though he insists on buying the groceries himself, because ‘they’re heavy and he can use that as free workout’.

It’s only been two weeks and you already know that the weekend with your parents is a necessary break.

If you’d had a minor crush on him when you started working as his assistant, that crush has increased by a tenfold now.

Seeing him in the morning trying to make coffee while half asleep does nothing to quell your growing feelings.

“I’m leaving tomorrow morning.” You tell him when he’s still not speaking. You don’t know why you add the last part, the words slipping out of your mouth like soap through your fingers. “We could do a movie night if you want.”

You can feel his eyes on your back now, heat rising to your cheeks. You scrub your plate again to keep from having to look at him.

“What movie did you think?” He asks, voice timid.

“I-” You stutter, trying to think of one off the top of your head. “There’s a new Pokemon movie?”

“I’ll put Popcorn on the list.” He says and you can hear him slip from his chair.

“See you later.”

Oh god. Movie night is going to kill you.

-

The living room couch had always felt massive to you until you had to share it with Amajiki.

He’s sitting at the other end of it, a bowl of popcorn sitting between you.

For a moment you wonder if this is how he feels all the time around other people, anxious and aware of every single thing you’re doing.

Is your breathing too loud? Are you moving too much or not enough?

“Bathroom break.” You call out softly and slip from the couch.

You can hear the movie pause behind you and rush to the safety of the bathroom.

It still smells like his bodywash inside which isn’t helping at all, so turn the water as cold as it gets and let it run over your wrists, counting to ten until you’re as calm as you could possibly get.

“It’s just Amajiki.” You whisper to yourself. “He’s too afraid of you to think of anything like that.”

My Kofi if you want to tip me

[dwreader]

Actual incidents in the book that are in dispute btwn Louis and Lestat since you fuckers can't seem to read:

-Lestat wanted Louis for his plantation vs. he is in fact already rich: not really relevant to the show since show Lestat is flaunting the fact that he's extremely wealthy from the start. Louis is not under any illusion that this guy is after his wealth, HE moves into Lestat's house in fact and accepts Lestat's money/gifts/etc. Lestat is a captial p PROVIDER. He said do NOT take that away from me and it's one thing he's 100% right about.

-A cold loveless relationship depicted in IWTV vs. a more loving though still troubled "marriage" according to TVL: again, more or less moot for the show since season 1 depicts Lestat's version of their relationship more so than Louis's. They are clearly in a romantic relationship, had some good times (that were maybe glossed over quickly by Louis but are still clearly depicted through Claudia's diaries) and yet even in TVL, Lestat agrees that Louis's account was an accurate representation of the atomsphere of their decades together and that he deserved all the punishment he got.

-Lestat torturing + killing people for fun according to Louis vs. Lestat's claim that he only killed people who were "bad" and deserved it: kind of already played out on the show when Louis suggests the idea in 1x03, but ultimately it doesn't significantly alter our perception of Lestat cause does anyone actually care that prostitutes stole money from their clients and think that's a valid reason to torture and kill them? Hope not! It's just a good insight into Lestat's mind and how he justifies killing.

-The events after Lestat's murder and Paris: these parts we have to take from Lestat's POV simply because Louis is unaware of things happening when he's not present. Obviously will be a major part of Season 2.

-The scene at the end of IWTV happening or not: the most direct contradiction between the two accounts but this has not happened yet on the show so it has no bearing on anything in season 1.

As you can see, most of these contradictions involve Louis's omissions in IWTV rather than "made up" events. Save for the final scene in NOLA that doesn't actually mean anything to season 1, absolutely nothing about Louis's depiction of events in IWTV is really disputed by Lestat. Louis's turning, Claudia's turning, the "atomsphere" under which they lived leading up to Lestat's murder and Lestat's murder itself are all indisputable. Lestat is revealing more of his motivations and giving us further vampire context/knowledge that Louis didn't have (because Lestat kept it from him btw and he forgives Louis his errors because he knew it was out of enforced ignorance), but that only slightly changes our perception of his actions. It does not throw them into the trash.

It's also very clear that Season 1 is already an amalgamation of the two versions. If they were taking IWTV literally, the show wouldn't even be a romance and it clearly is. It uses Claudia's diaries (a device revealed only much later in the books) to fill in some scenes that Louis may not have been present for like the kidanpping on the train but the two perspectives make the story kind of bulletproof? The reliability or lack thereof of Louis as a narrator is made possible by Claudia's diary being there as a secondary source and when he's at his most unreliable, it's the diary that provides the contradictions. WE see something's off when the diary's pages are excised. BUT you really don't have any basis in the books for a major lifechanging event like episode 5 to be retconned, let alone an event with two people as sources and involved a prolonged recovery period that's also described in painstaking detail by said two people. Like this woman was a lazy writer most of the time but even SHE wouldn't do that cause its like a basic writing tenant not to feed your reader horseshit??

[rosewine-5]

Eyes Never Lie: Part IV

gif made by nowadays

summary: Being friends with Coriolanus for a long time lets you what drives him to succeed and survive. You've also gained the insight to guess how he's feeling or what he's about to say just by the expression on his face. But only things that you could never decipher were the thoughts behind his eyes.

A.N: I’m not dead! Had a health emergency so that's why this is late (don't hate me), but part 4 is finally here!

word count: 4.9k

divider made by firefly-graphics

Felix Ravinstill was dead.

You went by the hospital to check on him, only to hear his ventilator sound off the time of his death, sunrise on the last day of the 11th Hunger Games. You watched from a distance as his mother and father held themselves as they cried over the loss of their son, and you walked away, saddened by the death of a friend; the death toll of dead or scarred friends now rising to 3.

These were friends you had known since childhood, people you had grown up together with, people who are now dead and scarred, lives forever changed in the blink of an eye. You were walking out of the room when you were suddenly pushed into a bathroom. Your hand grabbed the sleeve of the person and pulled them off of you. You were met with yellow eyes, black hair, and a long turtleneck shirt. Your mouth fell open as you recognized the person who pulled you into the room.

“Clemmie?” you whispered and wrapped your arms around her. She hugged you back as you let a tear fall. “Why won't you visit me?” she asked, her tone having an angry edge to it. “Gaul told us you had an infectious flu.” You said, looking at her sickly appearance. “She's a liar, that snake changed me. I haven't gotten anyone sick.” she seethed, and you noticed she would hiss as her tongue would twitch with her body. Her eyes then scanned you, “You need to stay away from her, she's gonna get you killed, she already wants me dead.”

She then added to her sentence, “Don’t let her poison get to you, she wants us to be like her test!” Clemensia started to hiss as she held your arms, prompting the hospital staff to open the door, catching you two. One of them grabbed, holding one of her arms tight as another did the same.

“Watch! Her games are gonna get us all a free ticket to the next life!” Clemensia yelled before a staffer pricked her with a needle, and she went limp. Before she was dragged into another room, her shirt rode up, revealing the bottom of her torso, and a batch of scales festering in the middle.

The walk to the academy made your mind race. Your thoughts drifted to Lucy Gray, who was hopefully still alive. She has a low chance of making it out alive, that you knew. She could charm a crowd bit when it came to physical strength… yeah. Walking into the lab, you made yourself a promise: If there was any way you could help her in the games, rules be damned, you would do it. Gual was already waiting for you.

“take it you know about Ravinstill’s son?” She asked, to which you nodded in response. “Death, a certain subject you’ve become friends with these last few days.” Dr. Gaul said before leading you to a stack of cages, starting a long day of learning about her creations and how they were made.

You caught glimpses of the games, only seeing the death of Lucy’s fellow tribute, Jessup, another innocent life claimed by the games. While you were writing in your notepad, you heard a scream on the screen that broke your focus. Reaper was holding Dill in his arms, blood streaming out of her nose. She was dead. “Her illness finally took over.” you said to yourself, noticing Gaul’s eyes glued to the screen, a curious look on her face. In a turn of events, starts to line the dead tributes up in a line. This broke your focus, making you look at what he was doing.

The most shocking part came when he tore the capitol flag down from the arena, making you stand up. As he laid the flag over the fallen tributes, Sejanus’ words came into your mind. They didn't deserve this. In the corner of your eye, you saw Dr. Gaul go to a desk in front of a camera. “Start the broadcast.” She said to one of her other assistants. Reaper's words were soon cut off by Dr. Gaul.

“Capitol citizens, I’m afraid I must interrupt our Games to announce a tragic loss, one that affects us all. Felix Ravinstill, son of our beloved president, has this morning succumbed to his injuries sustained in the rebel bombing.” A few of the lab assistants gasped at the news as you turned towards Gaul, watching her break the news to Panem.

“Out there in the districts, they will be celebrating this young boy’s death as a triumph. I will not allow my Games to give our enemy such a victory. I swear to you, here and now, before the sun goes down tonight, a rainbow of destruction will engulf our arena. Even if it means there’s to be no victor in these Games.” And with that, she cut the feed.

Your mouth fell open, “You did that to cut the tribute off.” She looked at you with a cold stare, “Just one more rebel to kill.” You saw the lab assistants start to cage up the snakes, and you watched the colorful creatures of death go into a cylinder and be pushed outside, you turned and saw Coriolanus walking towards you. He was looking between you and the tank, a concerned look on his face.

He was holding his handkerchief in his hand and put it in your hand. “It holds her scent, please.” Coriolanus begged. The memory of Dr. Gaul making you retrieve the paper came back to you: the snakes didn't bite you, so they won't harm Lucy Gray. You nodded and walked to the tank, sliding it between the slot in just as it was lifted off. He gave you a grateful smile as he walked off. You walked out and saw Dr. Gaul with her back turned to you, laughing to herself, “Go watch the finale, my rose,” she said, now turning to you, “Say your silent goodbyes to your friend.”

You speedwalked into the room, finding Tigris, and sat next to her. She gripped your hand as your eyes were glued to the screen, praying the handkerchief trick worked. You watched as the youngest tribute, Wovey, walked towards the tank, not knowing it would be the last thing she saw. Soon the snakes broke the tank, and covered Wovey, charging towards the tributes.

“Not candy! Down goes Wovey.” Lucky Flickerman said and continued to announce the death of all the tributes until it all got to Lucy. You looked between the screen and Coriolanus. The snakes weren’t charging towards her, now slowly creeping. “It worked.” You said to yourself, letting out a sigh of relief. “She’s won, let her out.” Corio said. “Afraid that’s not your call to make, Mr. Snow.” Lucky Flickerman said and nodded to Dr. Gaul.

You suddenly heard Lucy start to sing, trying to calm the snakes. The way her voice took the room over, you could only imagine what her voice was doing to the other viewers. Between the snakes wrapping around her dress and her powerful voice, tears started to form in your eyes. By the end of her song, you could only hear the sound of her humming and your breath. Coriolanus now turned to Dr. Gaul, “Dr. Gaul, please, get her out.” He shouted. Tigris and you shared a brief look before you both yelled “Get her out!”

Soon the room started to fill with the refrain “Let her out” while looking at Dr. Gaul. She raised her hand, silencing the students who waiting for her answer. With a pointed look at you, she turned to a person next to her and said, “Let her out.” You didn't even hear Flickerman’s words as you hugged Tigris and she held you. Your classmates began to walk towards Coriolanus while you stayed by Tigris. “The games are as I predicted!” Lucky Flickerman shouted, tearing up his paper and releasing doves from his hands.

Amateur magician my ass.

Eventually, he broke through the crowd and found you two in the middle of the group, Tigris coming up and holding him first. After a moment, he came to you and you enveloped him into a hug. “You did it.” you whispered to him, feeling his hands squeeze you. The games were over, Coriolanus had won, and all would be well.

That afternoon, you were finishing up writing down notes of formulas Dr. Gaul assigned to you when Dean Highbottom walked in, “I assume your friend is ecstatic he won the games, as he should be.” You turned to him, taking in his tone of speech. “I find it strange, this relationship between you and Snow,” he said, “coming so close while only meeting in the Academy even though you both grew up close together, did you not?” You nodded in response, “We had mutual friends, we knew about each other, but didn't cross paths until the first day.”

“It’s been nice seeing you two help each other as best you could these years,” Highbottom said, “but I’m afraid it's come to an end, dear one.” For a second you couldn't speak, but you leaned forward. “It appears your friend slipped his songbird a compact mirror full of rat poison, assisting the kills of that sickly tribute as well as another,” Dean Highbottom said, making your blood run cold, “And a handkerchief with his father’s initials was found in the bottom of the snake bin, saving his tributes life in the end.”

You covered your mouth and cursed, “Goddamit Coryo.” you whispered to yourself, but you pulled yourself together. “So now what happens to the prize, who wins?” you asked, looking him in the eyes. “Well, as I said, cheating will be punished. Being a peacekeeper will be one suited for him I assume. As for the winner of the Hunger Games, I'm still deciding on that one.” he said, standing beside you. “In some ways, I say the viewers for having a show. In other ways, I say his songbird is a winner, she gets to live after all. But I would also say you as well.” Highbottom stated.

Now you were confused, “How do I win?” He shrugged, “You got the experience of the games, up close and personal. You, a capitol student, are now an apprentice to the Gamemaker of the Hunger Games, a survivor of a capitol bombing, and top of your class, why aren't you anything but a victor of these games?” Dean Highbottom asked. “Come on, you didn't think the public forgot your little act in the zoo already, apprentice? You made a little name for yourself without even realizing it,” He chuckled as he looked up at you, “I congratulate you.”

“For what?” you asked, looking at him. “Surviving Snow, and his games.” Highbottom said, looking past you and at Dr. Gaul who entered the room. “Why would I have to survive him?” you asked, but he shook his head. “Later, apprentice, your teacher calls.” he said, and walked out the same way he came. Dr. Gaul approached while carrying a clipboard, a teasing smirk on her face, “Death’s resounding bell tolls once more, the number of friends lost rises to four.” She then looked up, “One last thing, the snakes are getting a bit much for the rest of my assistants, help them out for me.”

You had gotten used to her random “side quest” as you called them, so you went out of the door, missing the cold and hard stare she gave you. When you approached the arena, you looked for the rest of the people.

Why was the arena empty?

That was when you heard it, the slither of snakes coming from all corners of the arena. “No…” you said to yourself, seeing snakes come from all the crevices of the arenas. You let out a scream and backed into a barrier. You began to climb the debris, ironically ending up in the same area Lucy Gray did. As the snakes wrapped around your legs, you held your breath, knowing it would be your last. You kneeled on the ground, letting your last moments of life looking at the sunset. Surprisingly, they only wrapped around your body but made no effort to harm you.

You kneeled there and watched as they swarmed your body, making a rainbow blanket over your body. For some reason, you laughed at the revelation of the handkerchief not only saving Lucy Gray but you as well. “I had a feeling my theory was correct.” You heard the voice of Dr. Gaul say. You looked at the camera pointing at you and sighed, “You knew I helped?” “I had a hunch, little rose, and I’m usually right about a lot of things.” She chuckled. “So now what, you gonna turn me over to Highbottom, turn me into an Avox?” You seethed, now having a rush of anger. “And let the newest gem of Panem go to waste, I’m not that cruel. The fact loverboy is going to the districts as a peacekeeper is punishment enough for you.” Dr. Gaul chuckled.

“No child, you shall go to 12, have a little vacation away from home.” She said as you slowly stood up, the snakes still all around you. “And do what, just stay there spinning the story to have me a permanent resident for cheating?” You shouted, looking at the camera. “No, you shall adapt. Pack a simple bag.” Dr. Gaul said, “And you shall see how blessed you were to prosper and grow in the Capitol, not in the districts like the snake you saved.” And fine the camera’s red light turned off. You sighed and slowly walked out of the arena, the snakes, surprisingly letting you move. You walked home as if you were marching in a funeral procession.

You hit the bed cried yourself to sleep, and packed your bag in the morning. Dr. Gaul made up the perfect fabricated story to your parents, and you didn’t protest, the fear of her ratting you out shutting you up. You got dressed, put your jacket on and you were on a train to the districts that early morning. The train ride might as well have been one to hell. With each tree going past you was only a reminder of being far away from home. You held your necklace in your hand, watching the greenery of the land pass you by.

When the train stopped, your face contoured into one of emptiness, the reality of your situation setting in. You were alone. No parents to vouch for you. No Sejanus to make you laugh and comfort you. No Coriolanus, you had to stop thinking about his situation to keep yourself from crying. As you held your bag tightly a dressed officer walked forward. “Gual’s student?” He asked you, to which you nodded in reply. “Welcome to District 12, this way.” He helped you into the back of a vehicle and sat in front of you.

“You’ll be shadowing and assisting the scientist in the laboratory. You have the freedom to explore, you’ll be here for a while.” He said, watching the coal miners pass you all by. “What is there to do?” You asked, looking at the buildings. The officer nodded, “There’s the Hob, group that calls themselves the Covey performs there.” Your eyes met his at the mention of “covey.” Lucy Gray was covey, so she would be here. “When do they perform?” you asked.

“I'm not sure, but hopefully soon.” he said as the car stopped in front of a building. You were coached throughout the day about the jabberjays, as well as what they were made for. Only in the late afternoon did you finally catch a break. Your hands ached from the pecks and bites of the jabberjays. You walked through the streets, hands in your pocket, taking in District 12. Birds were flying around, peacekeepers walking the streets, and someone calling your name.

Wait…

You froze and turned around, seeing a blonde girl looking at you, behind her was Lucy Gray. She immediately ran towards you and enveloped you in a hug. “You’re here,” She said, looking you up and down, “Why are you here?” “Gaul figured out I helped Coriolanus cheat during the games.” You said, and she came to a realization. “The snakes, that was you?” Lucy Gray asked, you nodded “yes.” She then hugged you once more, tighter this time than the last. You hugged her back as she asked, “What happened to Coriolanus?” Your breath hitched, and then you let it out, “He has to serve as a peacekeeper for his wrongdoings.” Her hands rubbed your shoulders, “How long does he have to serve?” You shook your head, trying not to cry, “I don’t know.” Your voice came out weak, your emotion taking over your voice.

“I’m so sorry-.” “Lucy Gray!” A voice yelled. Her expression immediately fell. “Piss off Billy!” The blonde girl who was with Lucy yelled. “Nobody’s talking to you, Ivory!” Billy yelled at the girl. “This was Maude Ivory” you realized, slowly breaking out of your trance. “Why don't you go torture another poor girl.” You shouted. Now his gaze turned to you.

“And who might you be?” Billy asked, looking you up and down. Well, shit. You didn't want people to find out you'd been sent here, lord knows how the district feels about the capitol. So you put on your best smile and sarcastic tone, “Calanthe Hemlock, and I'm so glad to meet such a waste of air like yourself.” Billy purses his lips before looking at Lucy again, “This conversation ain't over.” You three watched as he walked off before Maude Ivory looked at you, “Calanthe Hemlock huh? Where’d that name come from?” She asked. “The name “Calanthe” came from a close friend.” you explained, not missing the sorrowful look Lucy gave you. “Hemlock is one of my favorite shades of green.” You said and leaned on the building close to you.

“How long will you be here?” Lucy Gray asked, looking you in your eyes, Maude Ivory following the same movement. “I don’t know, could be weeks, could be months.” You said. Her face slows turned into a smile as she looked at Maude Ivory. “What’s that face for?” You asked. “This hell is gonna turn into a vacation.” Lucy said, sliding her arm on your back and walking you deeper into town. “You won’t have to live in your Capitol dollhouse, you can just be you.” Lucy Gray said, holding your hand and squeezing it. “Calanthe Hemlock, resident of District 12. No one knows your name, or your past, all they know is that you’re my friend.” She said.

As you watched the sunset over the trees your face slowly broke out into a smile. Calanthe Hemlock just stepped into the streets of District 12, and she was gonna have the time of her life while she had the time. The first week you still had your walls up, nervous about being alone in a new environment for the first time. By the second week, you were hanging out with Lucy every day, and by the third week, you almost forgot your birth-given name.

When Lucy Gray & Maude Ivory introduced you to their family in the Covey several weeks later, you wouldn't lie and say you were nervous. Those nerves were soon soothed by their kindness and acceptance of you. Turns out that risking your entire future for a friend ends up giving you more of them. They walked you through the woods until they came to a lake, and all rushed to jump in, all except Lucy Gray, who was watching you.

“What's wrong, Calanthe?” she asked. “I haven’t gone swimming in a while.” you said as you took your dress off. Lucy smiled softly, “Jump in or I'll shove you in myself.” She was gone in a second, jumping over the dock and into the waters. You sighed, “When in 12.” You said to yourself and ran down the dock, jumped up, and let the water cover you.

When the water ran out of your ears, The cheers of the covey filled them, chanting your name. You spent the afternoon swimming. When you all took a break, Luxy sat beside you in the grass. “I never got the chance to ask you, now did they find out you helped me?” Lucy Gray asked.

For a second, you were back in the area, the snakes slithering up your body and over your throat. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath before speaking. “Dr. Gaul, the game maker, told me I was helping the other lab assistants gather the snakes out of the arena. When I walked in I was the only one there, and the snakes swarmed me a minute later.”

Lucy Gray’s mouth fell open and closed before finally closing completely, “You know she’s an absolute nutjob right?” You nodded in response, looking out at the water. “Well, stand up. You're going out tonight.” Lucy said, grabbing your hands, and making you stand. “Where are we going?” you asked, letting her walk you down the trail. “You, Hemlock, are joining us in the Hob tonight.” Maude Ivory said, looking up at you.

You scoffed, “I didn't know I was the guest of honor.” “We’re playing tonight,” Barb Azure said, looking back at you, “and you’re dancing tonight.” You laughed, “I don’t have a choice, do I?” You asked, already knowing the answer. “Nope, now go on and kill some time, we’ll be looking out for ya.” Tam Amber said, giving you a playful wink as they walked ahead of you.

When the night was setting you took a quick shower and changed into a dress you packed and walked to the Hob. The dance was already in full swing, boots stomping on the floor and loud chatter filling the air.

A smile found its way upon your face, the change of scene is a complete 180 of the dancing you were used to, yet somehow more entertaining to see. Soon you were pulled into a dance, losing track of time and the worries being capitol fell away.

When the music stopped, you found yourself in the front, looking up at Maude Ivory. “Is it hot in here?” she yelled, you and the crowd yelling “yeah” in response. “Cause we’re plannin’ on heating it up a bet more. The one, the only, Lucy Gray Baird!” she shouted, and Lucy Gray came onto the stage. As she gave her small speech, she was given a bottle, you caught her gaze and she smiled.

“Everybody!” Lucy Gray suddenly yelled, to which the crowd responded, “Yeah!” “I'd like to give a special shoutout to my dear friend, someone who pioneered for my victory throughout the games. My dear friend Clanathe Hemlock!” She yelled, pulling you up on stage, the applause and whistles drowning out your nervous giggles. “Safe to say she's happy I survived.” Lucy Gray said, letting you back down. “Now, how about a song, huh?” Lucy Gray asked, and the music queued her in.

As soon as she started singing, you recognized the lyrics. It was the same song she sang at the reaping, but it sounded a whole lot better with the band. You then noticed she froze up on a lyrics and stopped dancing to follow her gaze, but you couldn't see who she was looking at. You did manage to see the smirk she gave shot you. That was when Billy waste of air Taupe broke through the crowd.

You turned and saw Billy Taupe shove a peacekeeper before getting shoved on his ass. You covered your mouth to laugh but that hand shot out to keep yourself between him and Lucy Gray. “Leave the girl alone, Taupe!” you yelled. His eyes met yours and all of a sudden you felt his hand slap the hell out of you, sending you back onto the stage.

The slap damn near knocked you out, but you got back up just in time to see a peacekeeper with blonde hair rush towards him, shouting “Don’t touch her.” You stood up and looked at the peacekeepers, and your eyes filled with tears as you recognized his eyes. Coriolanus was the one knocking the hell out of Billy Taupe. “Coryo stop!” you heard another familiar voice yell. “Nah get off me!” Coriolanus yelled, getting dragged away by Sejnaus. Why are you here? You watched Coriolanus look you in the eyes as your face broke into the biggest smile you ever smiled in your life.

You turned to Lucy Gray as she smiled back at you, “Well look who's here.” “You saw him when you stopped singing.” you said, putting two and two together. Her hand went to your cheek and sighed, ”Try and clean that up some, ‘Lanthe, don't want this on your record.” You rolled your eyes, “Shut up, before I make you my next test subject.” You joked. “Ya love me too much to do that.” Lucy Gray yelled as you walked away. “Unfortunately!” you shouted back, blowing her a kiss as you walked back to your barracks.

The next day the slap mark went down, but it still stung like hell. Pulling on your long sleeved dress and boots, you walked to the lunch hall. You heard from the other trainees you had the day off and immediately went to find Lucy. When you walked through town, you heard your name being called and saw Sejanus running towards you. You wrapped your arms around him and let out a laugh, “What are you doing here!” “Once I found out where Coryo was going, I followed close behind. I wasn't expecting you to be here.” Sejanus said.

Your hand ran over his hair, and you pouted. “I’m gonna miss your hair.” You said, making him chuckle. “Coriolanus was looking for you earlier,” Sejanus said, making your eyes widen. His eyes took in your expression, and he smiled softly. “You don't know how loved you are, Calanthe.” He said, smoothing out your hair before sighing. “It's nice to get away from the capitol, isn't it?” you asked, Sejanus nodding “yes” in response.

His gaze soon went behind you, and he rubbed your shoulders, “I gotta go, I’ll catch up with you later.” Sejanus gave you a short smile and then walked off. You sighed, wondering who he went to talk to as you walked around. The grass hitting the skirt of your dress. You saw a familiar figure walking through the grass and your heart jumped. Before you knew it, you broke out in a run towards him. “Coryo!” you yelled, a smile breaking your face open.

He turned and mirrored your smile, walking towards you as well. You opened your arms to bring him into a hug, which he was pulled into the second you got to him. His arms held you to his chest, so close you could almost hear his heartbeat. For the first few minutes, neither of you said a word. It wasn't until he broke the silence, “Why are you here?” Coriolanis asked. “Gaul found out I helped you, and I was sent to 12 the next day.” You saw his face flash from anger to confusion to worry.

“Your parents don't know the truth, do they?” He asked, making you shake your head “No”. Coriolanus then sighed, “It's nice to know you're here.” His eyes went to yours, to your lips, to your necklace, and then right back to your lips. “No capitol. Dr. Gaul can't control us.” He whispered, leaning towards you. His nose brushed yours, making you stand still. “We’re free, Calanthe, for once.” Coriolanus added.

You had gotten used to being called by that name, but nothing could ever beat the name coming from his lips. You hadn't realized how close he was to your face until his breath hit your lips. Looking up at him, your hands found the back of his head, and then his cheek, before resting on it. He closed his eyes for a second, soaking in the comfort of your touch. “When I was on the train, I almost wanted them to shoot me.” he said, now opening his eyes. “Why, Coryo?” you asked.

“I’d rather go through the games as a tribute than stay away from you.” He whispered, making a tear fall down your face. His hand came to wipe it away with his thumb, but his hand remained on your face. You didn't know when, but the moment changed with a soft gust of wind. Like magnets, your lips found each other in a passionate kiss. Bottled-up emotions come forth to be put into the moment. His hands went down to your waist pulling you to him and holding you there.

You wrapped one arm around his neck and one on his cheek deepening the kiss, making him chuckle. He didn't verbally respond, but he kept kissing you like he would never see you again, and you weren’t complaining. All memories of the games, you being sent to 12 faded away with every second of his kisses. This was all that mattered now.

Coriolanus Snow was here. Dr. Gaul and her meddlesome ways weren't. And right now you were kissing the boy you loved in a field of flowers; what more could you want? If Dr. Gaul wanted you to adapt, you would do as she asked: After you lived a little.