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omegasmileyface · 3 years

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Bound by the Food Chain

"man what if there was something incorporating both the Ghost King and Ghost Hunger aus" i say, not prepared to spend weeks writing up an entire ecosystem structure for the ghost zone,

thanks @attackradish and @ectolemonades for help figuring out the science and writing!

summary: The ghostly Staff who've taken up residence in Phantom's Keep notice Danny doesn't eat any ectoplasmic food. That can't be good for him.

warnings: detailed description of ghost hunger, which is vaguely like cannibalism

words: 2830

AO3 link

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“King Phantom, when do you feed?”

“Huh?” Danny looked up at the Keep’s Librarian, Vellum. It felt like an odd question, seeing as he was currently actively eating a sandwich he had packed up with him into the Zone. He was spending a few hours in the Keep that day since it was nice and quiet for getting work — from both realms — done, and he had brought some earth food over. Ghost plants just didn’t taste very good.

Vellum looked a little shocked, like she hadn’t realized she’d asked her question aloud. “I mean, clearly you eat human food quite a bit,” she gestured to his sandwich, “but I’ve never seen you take in any sort of ectoplasmic substance.”

Danny wasn’t an expert on the (strangely psychological) ecology of the Infinite Realms, but he was familiar with the fact that all ghosts had to take in some sort of ectoplasm if they wanted to be anything more than an inert impression of emotion. Since he had never gotten any enjoyment or significant energy from eating ghost plants or breathing in the stuff ambient in the air, he pretty much just stuck with eating human food and converting the chemical energy between his forms. He was lucky that he could do that, being part human. He knew he automatically gained some energy from the human emotions around him (including his own, another benefit of being liminal) but it was negligible. He got drained pretty easily, and he knew there were things he wasn’t trying, but… he was tired, not desperate. He’d be tired anyway, with his lack of sleep.

“That’s because I don’t. I can still use the chemical energy I get from human food in my ghost form, so…” he shrugged. “This is pretty much it.”

Vellum’s brows furrowed in concern. “Are you not a—” She pursed her lips. “Are you not tired?”

“What do you mean? I definitely eat more than a regular human, and as far as I’m aware I don’t lose any of my energy in conversion. I’m getting by.”

“I think we should talk to Dr. Marchs. I don’t know if it’s… ok, that you’re not feeding ectoplasmically.”

With some exasperation, Danny let himself be brought back to the Throne room, the preferred place for anything that could constitute a “meeting”. Apparently, talking to the Keep’s Doctor, Chef, and some other Staff members about his diet counted.

The various adult ghosts looked at Danny with shared expressions of confusion and concern from where they stood around him. He was sitting on the arm of the Throne, not the most comfortable but it still felt wrong to be properly seated in it unless necessary.

Dr. Marchs finally spoke their piece. “Forgive me for asking, Your Majesty, but… are you not a hunting-ghost?”

Danny was already out of his league culturally. He had a lot to learn. “As in… like, a predator?”

“Exactly! Your core best processes ectoplasm directly from other ghosts, correct?”

Danny paled. “I don’t… know? I tend to avoid going around, just… eating other sentient creatures.” He tried to say it in a humorous way. It didn’t work.

“So you’ve never tried! I had thought… Well, I think you must be a hunting-ghost. You put out a radiant power that is only associated with that core type.”

“None of us have seen you feeding,” added Vellum, “so we weren’t sure you didn’t just defy that association. I don’t think anyone really understands all the complications of half-human physiology.”

Dr. Marchs jumped back in easily. “It’s still just speculation. You have said that you don’t enjoy eating plants from this realm, yes?” Danny nodded. “And you don’t seem to get significant relief from human emotion. Well, we’re just going to have to have you try feeding on some ghosts.”

Danny jumped to his feet. “What?! I don’t… need that, I get by fine on human food!”

“But aren’t you tired?” pointed out the Chef. Her eyes widened. “That’s why you get so drained after using big attacks! Your energy reserves aren’t being nearly refilled.”

“I believe she’s right, Your Majesty. There’s only so much energy you can take from human food, which isn’t even alive… I think you’re always tired because your core is designed to have a level of energy that you can’t provide it without processing Vital ectoplasm.”

Danny didn’t want to admit that he was consistently pretty damn tired. Instead he tried to change the subject. Ghosts were passionate beings, and as much as he hated to take advantage of that, having one of the Keep Staff gush about one of their passions to him was much better than talking about his relationship with what was essentially cannibalism. “Vital?”

Dr. Marchs’ eyes sparkled a little. “Vital as in living, not as in essential. Ectoplasm comes in three major forms. Ambient plasm makes up most of the Realms, in environments and atmospheres and auras. All ghosts are made up of Vital plasm, and those with cores have their Obsession or Purpose imprinted into the crystal structure of their own ectoplasm, which can be turned into Charged ectoplasm. The Charged form can take up an elemental type according to the ability of its source, and it has the most capacity to hold or be converted into ectoenergy. The Charged form is used to transmit intention onto a target, so it’s generally created by Cored ghosts, who are creatures of intention, in attacks or construction. Regardless of type or state, ectoplasm processing depends on its form — Uncored ghosts can process strong human emotions or Ambient ectoplasm into the Vital type. Among Cored ghosts, hunter-ghosts can best process Vital ectoplasm, gatherer-ghosts the high-activity type of Ambient plasm found in ghost plants, and scavenger-ghosts human emotion. Additionally, Charged plasm no longer linked to the source of its intention will eventually disperse into Ambient, as its most inert form.”

Danny, sitting down, had already known part of that, but the Doctor was properly smiling at this point. Dr. Marchs blushed as they realized they had just been talking, but none of the other ghosts in the room appeared to mind.

“…Regardless, King Phantom, we should really find some blobs for you to try eating. I cannot in good conscience leave you persisting off such low energy.”

He wanted to argue, he really did, but all the Keep Staff present were looking at Danny with this pleading expression. They looked genuinely concerned, and he remembered a comment he’d heard before about some of the Staff latching onto the King with their Obsessions. Some unfortunate result of the connection they’d formed with the Keep, Danny certainly didn’t deserve it, but he did know how it felt to Obsess over taking care of someone and have them turn down that care. With the same concerned look directed back their way, he got up and was led to the Garden out back.

Danny was having second thoughts again once he found himself surrounded by blobs that had been enjoying the intricate plants and high Ambient ecto levels of the Keep Garden. They were squishy but soft, like mochi coated in a good layer of starch, each a bit smaller than his head, and they all looked at him with these big vibrant eyes. Their postures were energetic, like they expected to play a game.

Once he sat down with the rest of the small group — why did he have to have an audience? — the blobs swarmed around him, resting on the sky blue grass and on his shoulders and in the others’ laps. They looked almost as expectant as the Staff in front of him.

“I…“ he bit his lip. “I can’t justify eating a living creature when I can choose not to. I know lots of ghosts have to eat others to persist, but I have the privilege that I can eat human food instead. Since I have that option, I can’t just… end another creature so I can feel a bit better.” Hey, Sam would be proud of him.

The present Staff donned looks of confusion. An Advisor who used the Keep as a home spoke up, eyes wide with realization. “Ah! Living creatures all share a survival instinct — that’s a natural result of evolution, yes? Things that do their best to live have their genes passed on? That’s not necessary for Uncored ghosts, since they do not reproduce and therefore don’t evolve. The only instincts experienced by the Uncored are instincts to better the Realms. Unless they’ve developed a strong individual personality, the Uncored are much more interested in contributing than in persisting.”

Danny’s head tilted in curiosity. Dr. Marchs took the reins on the rest of the explanation.

“The Realms are built socially where the living realm is built physically. Our homes and well-being are made from emotion, belief, and community. So for Uncored ghosts, spawned of the dimension itself, they want their ectoplasm and energy to be where it supports those communities the most, and that means ensuring the health of the ghosts in charge. Generally speaking, the more powerful a ghost is, the more likely they are to have some importance to the Realms. The Uncored — and many Cored — can sense a ghost’s power due to how much excess ectoplasm they let off. In fact, that excess is almost immediately put off as Ambient ectoplasm, meaning that there is simply more Ambient plasm around a powerful ghost, and the Uncored are often attracted since that provides sustenance for them . It’s a mutualistic relationship where one entity feeds off another, and in the end the resources of the weaker ghosts are given to the stronger, supporting the Realms. In fact, there are some cultures who believe that converting ectoplasm into a form the Cored can process is the entire reason for the existence of the Uncored.”

Vellum smiled slightly as she added on, “It’s not an entirely accurate strategy, as the most powerful ghost around is not always going to be a hunter type. They usually are, seeing as that’s the most efficient form of feeding, but it’s not impossible to be otherwise. The result in these cases is Uncored ghosts following around said Cored ghost, and as the same aspect of community comes into play, that ghost soon ends up hanging around a hunter type, who feeds on the prey that was collected.”

Danny cringed a little at the use of the word “prey”.

He looked around at the blobs nuzzled up against him. Those who didn’t look to be something resembling unconscious were peering up at him. They certainly looked expectant, as much as something without even a permanent mouth can.

After he was silent for a few moments, another Staff member spoke up, likely wanting to lighten his mood. “They really do like you! I’m not surprised, even aside from your natural power, the role you play as High King causes ectoplasm to be magnetized to you. I’m sure they’re having a little feast themselves!”

It did not lighten his mood. Danny felt genuinely guilty. Even if he wasn’t doing it on purpose, wasn’t he effectively manipulating these creatures into offering themselves up to be eaten? It wasn’t right, to make them feel as if they want to be ended, just because he had some sort of aura.

But the gathered Staff were still concerned, and anticipatory, and, somehow, hopeful . He couldn’t turn them down at this point. He’d just have to bite into one of the little ghosts surrounding him, just once. He’d throw up, disgusted with himself, and the Staff would realize it wasn’t better for him, and the remaining blobs would remember that they don’t want to die, and they’d flee, and everybody would just leave the subject alone . He only had to try.

(The human dread he was emitting at this point must have been feeding everyone else.)

“…Okay,” he said simply, and gently picked up a blob that had been sitting on his leg.

Before he could rethink himself again, he brought it to his lips. He opened his jaw slightly wider than a human’s would likely go and, fangs instinctually extended, bit down.

Danny was familiar with the scent of ectoplasm. Copper and citrus and battery acid and salt. But when he broke the surface of the small ghost and the viscous fluid burst into his mouth, the salty and bitter aspects were lost on his tongue, replaced by a thick sweetness and the cold tingle of energy. Where his fangs pierced an inch down into the substance of the ghost, he tasted this fulfillment in its emotional ectoplasm. He’s not sure he would have been able to taste it if he weren’t part human. Still, the feeling was something distinctly ghostly, a similar satisfaction to fulfilling an Obsession or a Purpose. It was hard to feel bad, sympathizing automatically with that simple rightness. The way the emotion pressed at his brain, the way the semisolid edges of the ghost slicked against his tongue, his own self-revulsion melted to the back of his mind. The ectoplasmic flesh met his teeth with a thick resistance, but it was nothing to break past it and open up to the deeper substance. It was vibrant, a pure cool energy that pulsed against his fangs. (His core sucked it up greedily.) His mouth met the energy with a pulsing of its own, a harmonizing signal sent from his core throughout his body like a heartbeat. It came out as a low purr that vibrated deep through the charged air around him. He couldn’t help but rush to swallow, though his body absorbed it just as easily without.

The blob ghost had been the size of his foot, and now it was part of the energy making up his own form. Compared to the power his core was passively putting out, to the amount it longed to have refilled, it wasn’t all that much. Unconsciously, his core put out an ectoenergetic signal that he was ready to feed. The blobs around him nuzzled closer yet, making themselves available. Danny could feel a few other Uncored ghosts who were drifting nearby come into the garden and join them.

He looked up from his ectoplasm-stained hands at the Keep Staff. They were looking at him, relieved, pleased (even though they just watched him tear into a living thing and then absorb it into his being like it didn’t even matter, said a part in the back of his consciousness. It was hard to focus on, though. It was coming from his brain, not his hungry core, after all). With his core this active, he could feel the presences of all the other ghosts around. The blobs flocking around him had auras that were weaker than the Cored Staff, but sturdy. There was a balance to them that signaled the ectoplasmic types they were taking in and storing. He sensed the Uncored pulling in the Ambient ectoplasm that sloughed off of him, barely connected to him anymore if not for the weight of the space surrounding him. And he could feel all of their stores of energy-dense Vital plasm.

He could also feel, just as an aspect of his being, his own energy stores. The metaphysical space in his center that his form and all his strength drew from. He could remember, abstractly, the moment he died and that reservoir came to be and was instantly flooded with energy. The way the portal had searched the air until it found his body and his little human soul and used him as a conduit, and all that electricity punched a hole between planes right where his ghost was trying to form, and something tore outward from that starting place just on top of his being, and the vacuum that formed on earth and in the Zone and everything in between pulled until the Infinite Realms rushed his body and in one instantaneous moment his forming core was flooded with enough ectoplasmic energy to become entirely corporeal (if it hadn’t, his ghost wouldn’t have manifested nearly quickly enough to keep him alive), and his being was stretched beyond its limits containing everything. For one moment, he had been filled with more energy than he had thought possible, and his ghost had formed itself to accommodate. Since then he’d felt so… empty. His body took what it could from human food and environmental energy, but it was made for more than that. He had blocked out the awareness of his reserves and gotten used to trying to power all his defenses on so little. He was always so tired.

He still felt low, running on just enough to operate something humanish. But his core had latched on to the ectoplasm provided by the blob, the kind it was designed to process, and finally felt a little relieved. Most ghosts that stayed within the Realms were almost always full. Danny wasn’t nearly there yet.

He reached down and grabbed another blob.

#alt title: What Taco Bell Does to a Bitch #danny phantom #my writing #roxys worldbuilding #i havent posted the Full Ecology Rant so this is as close as my blog is getting rn lmaooooo #ghost hunger #ghost king danny #hey this ones actually edited!#HOW do you people write things more than 5k.....

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heniareth · 3 years

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I was really curious about what your opinions on the DAO companions are :) I know we have talked about some, but I'd love to hear more and about the others as well :D I hope it's ok to pose this as an ask :)

Sure! That sounds like a ton of fun. This might be a long one tho. Mind you, this is not the finished version of the answer. I'd like to link stuff and add a cut, but rn that's not possible. I'll update it when I can.

Edit: I have updated it ^^

Let's go alphabetically bc why not.

Alistair:

Sweet guy. So sweet. There was a moment when I was hard pressed chosing between him and Zevran (alas, Zevran won). Also, he's weirdly tall according to the wiki? How did I not notice that before?

Let's get a bit more serious now, Alistair is a great guy. The only reason he's not the hero of the story is because he doesn't want to. He has all the qualities of a leader: he's good at dealing with conflict (as evident with the conversation with the mage at the beginning. He gets where he wants to get without antagonizing the mage, but without allowing him to trample all over him). He's a solid tactitian and knows how to make allies (he suggests to use the Grey Warden treaties, after all). I bet if he was in the leadership position, he'd even not bicker with Morrigan. His moral code is pretty tight; some might say too tight, but I think it's less about the moral code and more about learning to judge people by their actions, not by the labels they fit into (Morrigan is a proud apostate and therefore bad. Wynne is a humble circle mage and therefore good). He also has a bit of a black-and-white way of seeing the world. I empathize a lot with Alistair, especially with his experience with the Chantry and his subsequent reluctance to deal with it. I really wish I had gotten to know more about concrete experiences he had during his training as templar, but he seems reluctant to talk about it (gee, I wonder why).

Since I've only played the game once, I haven't really picked up on Arl Eamon's abuse towards him, which apparently exists (Isolde, however... I mean, even if he were Eamon's illegitimate son, he's a kid, ma'am, he didn't exactly get to chose his parents. So that's so not okay). Alistair's way of speaking about them both, however, is either sign that he has not come within a hundred miles of acknowledging how much it hurt him, or that he's already gone through the whole process and has decided to forgive them. The latter shows a very strong character; yes, he relies on the approval and leadership of others, he has his issues, but he's already started working on them.

That being said, irl Alistair would be like a little brother to me. I'd tease him relentlessly (all in good fun and I promise to stop if it makes him uncomfortable, but he's just so teasable). I still wish the videogame gave him the chance to take important decisions for himself. But that, of course, would somewhat defeat the point of the game.

Leliana:

Another sweet, sweet person. Her singing voice is amazing. Her belief in the Maker inspires me (I'm a religious person and seeing religious characters represented in a positive light is Very Cool. It's also sometimes a source of discomfort, because the Church has done a lot of very messed up stuff and positive representation can sometimes veer into apologetics for things that should not be excused, but that's a whole other can of worms. The bottom line is that religious characters sometimes work for me and other times don't and Leliana works for me very much bc she's an outsider inside the Chantry).

Leliana is best friend material, tbh. I'd love to get to know her irl, discuss theology and philosophy and maybe even politics? She makes mistakes and has prejudices, but, tbh, so do I. And I do get the feeling that she tries her best to learn. From the times she intervenes in a conversation between the Warden and an NPC, she shows herself to be compassionate and open to the needs of others. What I get from her character is that she genuinely wants to help, which is something that I adore of her. I suspect that she sometimes has a hard time deciding wether she's a good person or not. She has killed and seduced and worked for a morally dubious person, and she doesn't show the same nonchalance about it as Zevran (though they both do discuss their line of work in very... professional terms). This is, however, more of a headcanon than actual factual canon.

I also very much enjoy her girly side, like her interest in shoes and dresses. She's one badass woman who also looses her cool about the latest fashions in Val Royeaux. I like that. Between her and Alistair, a non human noble Warden has as good a help to navigate the Fereldan court as they're going to get. Leliana is also, I can't forget that, clever and insightful. It'd be easy to write her off as the innocent chantry girl, but she's so much more than that. Her kindness is paired with foresight, I think. She knows that taking on the trouble to help now can go a long way in the future. I just have a lot of respect for her.

Loghain:

This one's gonna be short bc I didn't recruit him. He's an amazing villain and would probably be a great Warden as well. He reminds me of Denerhor from LOTR; once a hero/stewart of his people, ambition and desperation have driven them both down a terrible path. I have also only little idea about his past. People say he lost a lot, and I believe it wholeheartedly; it doesn't excuse the fact that he plunged the country into a civil war in the middle of a Blight. I don't have a lot of sympathy for short-sighted politicians. I wish he hadn't made himself regent. That's what I take away from his character.

Edit: One thing I forgot to mention that really impressed me was his death. I had Alistair duel him (that was a rough duel), and then it kinda just jumped to a cutscene of my Warden nodding and Alistair executing him. That didn't sit well with me. I didn't want to kill Loghain, and less so in front of Anora. But what impressed me was that Loghain just accepted it. That takes a whole lot of guts. Compare that to Howe's death, and how he screams out that he deserved (more, probably, or anything but death) and it's crystal clear who the more noble of the two is. Loghain strikes me as very lawful neutral, and any neutral alignment has the particularity that it can be dragged towards good or bad, sometimes without the characters noticing it (which is interesting from a DnD perspective; neutral is often concieved of as just as stable as good or evil, but that may not be true. But that's a different post). Anyway, Loghain's death was impactful.

Morrigan:

I could kick myself for not maxing out her approval in the first play-through. I got to enjoy a bit of her friendship by the end of it and boy was even that little bit worth it. Friendship with Morrigan is something that is hard-won. It's all the more precious because of that.

Morrigan is full of paradoxes, I think. She's incredibly wise in some ways, yet also very short-sighted (”just kill them, don't solve their problems”. Morrigan, dear, I'm not going to gain a lot of allies if I kill everybody who poses a problem to me). She is so intelligent, but emotionally... not so. She knows so much about some things, and very little about the next. She's incredibly wilful and knows what she wants, but follows Flemeth's orders all the time through. She hungers for power and independence, yet craves closeness, but won't allow herself to have it. She asks you to prove yourself to her and is extremely critical of your actions, I think, because she's afraid. She bites the hand that feeds her because it might hit her next.

Like with Eamon, I haven't managed to catch the undercurrent of abuse that seems to permeate Flemeth's relationship with Morrigan. Except there are signs, because there must be something Morrigan is scared of and who has instilled all that rage in her, and that's Flemeth. Also, she clearly hates/does not care about her and wants her dead (unless killing Flemeth was part of Flemeth's plan as well? Hm.)

Morrigan is that one person who you are nice to, continuously, because nobody else is. And suddenly she becomes less cold. And then friendly. And suddenly you're asking yourself why everybody hates her, because she's a really good friend! I just wish the other companions came to a similar conclusion, especially Alistair and Wynne.

Oghren:

They did this man dirty. He has such great lines and I'm convinced he was a great person before Branka disappeared. He has that dwarven warrior spirit, and while he looks like Gimli, some of his most impactful lines remind me of Dwalin or even Thorin Oakenshield himself. He could be so noble had he gotten some character development, damnit!

Oghren as he is written is somewhat disgusting. I hate the lechering comments and the drunkenness. And still, I don't hate him because of those amazing lines he has when he's actually sober. It's frustrating and I'll give him that character development myself if the game won't. I strongly associate the song Whiskey Lullaby with him, bc that's how he would have ended up if the Warden hadn't taken him along (warning: the song talks about suicide and alcoholism). Like I said, they could have done such cool things with his character. As he is written now... it's just sad. Moments of lucidity drowned in alcohol and creepy jokes. As you can see, I don't blame the character for either. The alcoholism happens all too often irl. The creepy jokes... I put that one on the writers' tab.

I actually think Oghren could have been a great mentor figure (I know, I shock myself as well sometimes). Next to the Grey Wardens, the ones who know most about fighting darkspawn are the dwarves because they have to deal with them constantly. Especially a warrior caste dwarf like Oghren could have brought a lot of that invaluable knowledge to the team, especially since there are no Grey Wardens in Ferelden but two extremely green recruits. Next, you get the chance to give Oghren the command of the teammates you leave behind in the battle of Denerim with the reason that he has lead men into battle before. Where did that suddenly come from? Oghren should have been right up there telling my Warden that they were doing this wrong, that they needed more food (and booze) and a confident leader to keep the armies they've called together going. Oghren should have been able to tell my civilian city elf who got recruited into the Grey Wardens a six months ago how one leads an army. How one presents oneself to inspire confidence, how one doesn't crack under the pressure, how one gets the leaders of said armies (some who hate each others guts i.e. Dalish elves and humans) to work together. And, last but not least, Oghren could have had a great story about grief. This is a man who has lost most of what made him (and what he hasn't lost he's spilling down the drain with every mug of ale). This is a man who, if you take him into the Deep Roads, has to see what his wife did to his family, how his wife got absolutely obsessed, and can be forced to kill said wife or watch her die. All Wardens loose their home and families at the start of the story. It would really have rounded the whole narrative out if the Warden and Oghren could have recognised their grief in each other and hashed it out somehow. Such as it is, Oghren is a depressed drunkard and there is nothing we can do about that. I find that frustrating.

Rascal (a.k.a. Dog):

Best boy. 100/10. I wish we had gotten to see the reaction of the different origins to the mabari (because elves probably have a whole different experience with them from mages or humans. And dwarves just... I think they straight up have none? XD). Other than that, no complaints. The name Rascal was the one I gave my dog because you have to be a right rascal to survive what he did and play the pranks he plays. Smartest breed in the world indeed.

Shale:

Shale is one of those characters that I recruited rather late in the game, so I haven't had the chance to explore their personality and worldview, really. I didn't even get to take them to the Deep Roads (this will be ammended in playthrough nr. 2). As such, I don't have particularly strong opinions on them (or her? The wiki refers to Shale as 'it', but that sounds weird). But, because I know so little about Shale, I have a lot of questions. First, what were they like before they were a golem? Shayle, as she was called then, was the best warrior of her time if I remember correctly. Why did she become a golem? Was it to be able to eternally protect her people? Was the sarcasm the golem Shale exhibits also part of the dwarven warrior Shayle or did that come later (if for thirty years you have nobody to talk to but yourself, you better be entertaining. And I can imagine how it could make somebody terribly jaded as well).

Next, how attached is Shale to their golem form, exactly? According to the banter, they infinitely prefer it to a squishy fleshy form. If that is the case, however, why go to Tevinter to try and become a squishy dwarf again? It's not like that process could be reversed if they wanted to become a golem again; if Shale survives to the end of the game, the Anvil of the Void is destroyed and Caridin is dead. Was the whole spiel about their indestructible form a façade? It might have been, but not because Shale actually disliked their form. I think it would have more to do with the loss of their memories and with the very invasive experiments and alterations of Shale's body made by the mage Wilhelm. The loss of memories means that Shale is unable to remember life as a fleshy creature. They might be deflecting by pretending that they didn't care for that experience anyway because of the superiority of their golem form. The modifications made to their form by Wilhelm would have alienated them from their body. In light of this, it's significant that Shale asks the Warden to decorate their form with crystals.

All of this is, of course, pure speculation. I may have easily missed or forgotten details that would disprove the above thoughts. All in all, I like Shale and I hope we meet them again in DA4 (given that it's mostly set in Tevinter). It's a liking from a respectful distance, because Shale is tall and made out of rock and also way more experienced than I will ever be (they are literally the oldest member of the Warden's little Blight fighting squad).

Sten:

Sten is another person I'd keep a respectful distance from physically. That seems to be the what he would prefer, at least. I've enjoyed his character a lot, especially because he seems pretty clear-cut at first, but slowly lets the nuance of his person show (gruff and stoic, but then he has an eye for art, a sweet tooth and he likes cute animals). It's also very interesting that there's no moment when you learn "the truth" about him the way you do with Zevran or Leliana. There's no big reveal about his life under the Qun before coming to Ferelden. He says he was sent to monitor the Blight, but honestly? If neither Ferelden nor Orlais knew there was a Blight, how could the Qunari know? I think he's lying, and he takes his secrets back with him when he leaves Ferelden. And yet I think I know him enough to say that a Warden who has become friends with him has nothing to fear from Sten.

One thing I find very interesting about Sten is how he thinks. His conversation about how women can't be soldiers has been analysed a lot on this page I think. He seems to be arguing based on a different paradigma than the one the Warden has. He also seems to have a very clear-cut view of the world. What is fascinating to me is that, when arguing with the Warden and learning about their culture, he is not necessarily becoming more lax about his worldview. I think it's more likely that he is expanding his paradigma, the structure of thought through which he understands the world. I don't think that he is now convinced that women can be warriors as well. I think he rather understands that, in Ferelden, the relationship between occupation and gender is different than under the Qun. Which of the two he thinks is more right or more agreeable, I have no idea. I'm also not very interested in that. But I find it fascinating how he always seems to be looking on quietly, gathering data, classifying it and trying to fit it into his understanding of how the world works. I wouldn't be surprised at all if his original party was a scouting party to see how vulnerable Ferelden was at that moment to outside forces. One thing I don't understand with all of this is why he urges the Warden to meet the Blight head on. No smart soldier would suggest that, except if they are foolishly proud (and Sten doesn't seem like that kind of guy tbh). I get that the Warden takes way longer to gather allies than expected because they first have to solve all of their allies' problems. But surely Sten sees the need to have allies? Is he just that impatient? Does he have a death wish (à la, I lost my sword and am without honour, better to die sooner than later and in glorious battle)? Was he his group's previous commander and is he now having trouble following somebody else's orders? Or maybe it's his way to make sure the Warden knows what they are doing? To push them into becoming the self-assured commander their allies will need once they're all gathered? I really don't know. I like the last option best, however.

For me, Sten is my fellow, more experienced soldier. Like Alistair, he can potentially be the Warden's brother in arms, but he's definitely the older brother here. He probably doesn't take kindly to tearful confessions of how hard everything is, but I feel like he's otherwise a solid rock to lean on. I feel like the Warden can trust him to do what is necessary and count on him no matter what, especially after they get his sword back. His devotion from that point on is honestly so powerful.

Wynne:

Wynne was such a support for my Warden (except with the whole conversation about love vs. duty and that she may have to choose between Zevran and ending the Blight and that she should therefore break up with him. Wynne had a point. Astala was so not willing to sacrifice her relationship with Zevran. But the whole conversation came at a point where she was already so disillusioned that she blew up in Wynne's face (”can i please just have one (1) nice thing????”)). But all in all, Wynne is great.

She has a lot of flaws. She was very marked by her life in the Cricle and, for all her age, she has little experience living outside of it. She is also a conformist despite her strong moral core. In a way, her ability to find peace with her lot in life impresses me deeply because it speaks to a lot of strength of character. Sadly, however, strength can be ill applied and used to suppress. I think she has convinced herself that the Chantry is right under (almost) all circumstances to be able to rationalize the life that mages live. She's had her son taken away from her as a baby and an apprentice killed. Her reaction seems to have been to convince herself that this was right, or for the greater good (and now I'm thinking about the Guardian's question at the temple of Andraste's Ashes; are you wise or do you just repeat what others have told you? The answer is not as clear-cut as it might be). This is why she is so irritated by Zevran and Morrigan. By aligning herself with the Chantry, she is, in her eyes, good. Zevran and Morrigan are not; they do not conform to Chantry morality and they defend themselves tooth and nails against somebody who would try and convert them. This is something Wynne never allowed herself to do; she always did the "right" thing and it has cost her so much. I'm not saying she was right (it would probably have done her some good to rebel from time to time, and to trust her own gut instinct more), but in light of this, it hardly surprises me that she's so judgamental. She has to be, or she would be forced to confront all the evil she has not fought against all those years and all the hurt that has been caused to her by the very institution she protects (and thank God she only tries to argue and can appreciate it when people have found a good life outside of her comfort zone. If she tried to convince by force or, for example, drag her former apprentice back to the Circle... boy oh boy that would get ugly). If you think about it, Wynne really is a good example for what happens if you live by a philosophy of always choosing the lesser evil.

Something that I keep forgetting over her grandmotherly and dignified character is how damn powerful she is. She has escaped the carnage at Ostagar; HOW!? She protected those mage apprentices in the Circle tower for God knows how long. In the battle of Denerim, she wades through an army and comes out alive on the other side. The wiki lists her age at 40, I think, but that doesn't make a lick of sense unless 75 years of age are the Fereldan equivalent to 100. This lady, about whom people make grandmother jokes, did all that. It's impressive.

Zevran:

You know, I would really love to know what Wynne thinks about the events at Kirkwall in DA2. It might be a disaster for her, or it might pave the way for one last bit of character development. She certainly didn't want to return to the Circle after fighting the Blight. That may be an indicator of some change in her stance on the Circle of Magi.

Edit: I forgot that she is what the Circle considers a literal abomination! Holy cow, how could I forget that?? Anyway, her conversation about what being an abomination means is so... heartbreaking, actually. It's so tentative. So careful. "Am I an abomination? Am I the same thing that has killed my students? The same thing as Uldred? Am I lost and damned? Did I invite this spirit in? Is this my fault?" Like wow, Wynne is going through something huge right there. I love it. I have to continue playing the game to see what it ends up as, but it's fascinating and such a huge thing that she allows the Warden in on that.

Ah, Zevran, my beloved (he has stolen my heart so much it's not even funny anymore). He's funny, he's charming, he's so so loyal and it breaks my heart. Zevran is the one about whom I've read most meta: these three wonderful posts for instance, as well as this one about his possible lack of scars, and this one about his lack of freedom. All of these have influenced my opinion of him and they are great reads.

I have talked about Zevran with you before, so I'll just skip to the new stuff. I have come to conclusion that Zevran is an artist at heart. This is totally not biased by the fact that I also do art, but hear me out. One of his preferred gifts are bars of silver and gold. While those have the obvious utility of basically functioning as money (they can be sold to any silversmith or goldsmith and their value is pretty stable through time and in different countries), there's also this from his codex: "Zevran shows an affinity for the finer things in life—hardly surprising for an Antivan Crow—but his appreciation can be more poetic than he lets on. A simple bar of refined silver or gold, uncomplicated by a craftsman's hammer, is elegantly valuable." Tell me that is not an artist's eye that sees that gold and sees the beauty in it. Then, there's also the meta about Zevran the Seducer which I linked above and link here again. It talks specifically about how he lets himself enjoy the target and be seen in his enjoyment. Tell me that is not an artist's eye that beholds the beauty of something he is set out to destroy. Even his talk about his assassinations show this. He talks about it as an art, the way somebody would talk about the brutal intervention in stone that produces a sculpture. Yes, it's a rationalization of the act of killing and yes killing is still wrong. But he doesn't go on about it on a moral tangent the way Alistair or Wynne would (”this person was bad, killing them was necessary”) or even through the argument of survival like Morrigan would (”it was either them or me and it sure as Hell wasn't going to be me”). He talks about the pleasure of a job well done, of the satisfaction of striking the precise point and executing a plan to the perfection so as to minimize chances of discovery and to make a clean death possible. And pleasure in seeing and in doing, this I firmly believe, is absolutely fundamental for an artist.

My favourite part about my Warden and Zevran as a pairing is that Zevran precisely brings out that ability to take your pleasures as they come and to really savour them. Fighting the Blight is tough; it's so important to find good things amidst the chaos to stay sane. If Astala saves Zevran from himself by offering him a place to stay and a purpose, Zevran saves Astala from herself by keeping her from running herself into the ground trying to save the world.

There are some things I don't like about Zev. The incessant flirting, for example, sometimes makes me uncomfortable (it becomes enjoyable for me once the Warden and him are in a relationship, but before that? Nah, no thanks). I wish he would also leave the other female characters alone (and there's so many more shameless comments of his aimed at Morrigan, Leliana or Wynne than at Alistair or maybe even Sten).

---

And that's my take on the Origins companions (this was rather long. Whew ^^' I hope it was still readable and that you enjoyed it!!) Thank you so much for the ask!! It's been a joy thinking about this. I was worrying at first that the less prominent companions like Sten or Shale wouldn't get as much content but... well XD

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i-will-physically-fight-you · 2 years

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Anyways it’s been a day and yes I’m still thinking about how THG is one of the better movie adaptations out there and that’s because it stayed true to the themes and core premise of the books while adapting what it needed for the sake of time and continuity in a cinematic format. Here’s a few reasons why:

- Suzanne Collins, the original author of the books, served as screenwriter for two of the films (The Hunger Games and The Mockingjay Part 1) now this is probably because she has prior screenplay knowledge, but like. that’s a MASSIVE point in THG’s favor. The original author had a very big say in how things played out. She even specifically requested Effie have a bigger role in Mockingjay because she understood that the film audience needed that personal connection they didn’t have with Katniss’s prep crew.

- The themes. I know a lot of people focus on how much the movies stray from the darker side of things (I’ll get to that in a moment) but I genuinely think they did a decent job of portraying them. You know what I hear most about Mockingjay? There are many people who haven’t read the books, who hate Mockingjay because it isn’t set in a Hunger Games. That it became too dark and depressing.

Yeah that’s right. They liked it when the movies were just about young adults killing one another for sport, but as soon as it shows its true colors on why that’s a cruel and twisted thing, they abandon ship. I think the movies do a good job of using the first two movies to set up for Mockingjay--in which everything THG is about is tied up into that final act.

(Side note, given how much happens in Mocking Jay, I actually do think it was smart for them to split that into two parts. Yes, more $ but are you going to sit there and tell me they could’ve been able to fit all of Mockingjay in a satisfying way into a single three hour movie?)

- A reason THG movies could’ve been less darker is the ratings. Just think about it logistically, there is a lot of stuff you can get a way with more in a book than a movie. They could’ve easily made the deaths a lot more graphic, as an example. Given their target audience was a teen demographic, they probably were worried about going too carried away with things.

- Every time this site talks about how “The Hanging Tree got turned into a club song and ruined the whole point of it” and “The movies played up the love triangle too much!” I feel like we’re taking too much into consideration on how the movies were advertised?? It was a post-Twilight era after all.

Because look. Guys, maybe the love triangle was played up a bit more in the movies but it still existed in the books? And also, I do think in-universe The Hanging Tree would be turned into a club song, I’m sorry, it just feels fitting for the universe asljdgkaslgjkls

- I actually think the actors did a great job portraying the characters? Particularly I love the movies portrayal of President Snow, Haymitch, Effie and Caesar Flickerman, those four knocked it out of the ball park. Yeah, it would’ve been cooler if they chose younger, actually-teenage actors for Katniss and Peeta, but given the limited hours minors can work in cinema, that was probably why they went with older actors.

- Speaking of which, I like the movie scenes excluding Katniss. I know in the novel it’s all Katniss’s first pov, but that’s REALLY hard to portray well in a cinematic setting. Whereas, these scenes feel like they could’ve been in the book and help supplement the movie audience’s understanding of the world and the stakes at play (Again, I think Collins having a direct influence on the THG scripts helped immensely).

- The movies do a decent job actually adapting most of the main events from the novel to the books. The only stuff that’s largely omitted are minor events or characters that would’ve made it hard to include in a condensed cinematic format.

None of what is cut out ever feels unnecessary and if you think long about it, it makes sense for why they cut the things they did. Yes, we miss out on things like Haymitch’s tragic Hunger Games but that wouldn’t have fit anywhere in the movie’s pacing.

Catching Fire is probably the closest film adaptation of the four and you can very easily read the novel alongside the movie and see how close they kept things (My sister did during one rewatch).

TLDR: THG movies are not perfect, but they’re one of the better book-to-movie adaptations out there and I’m tired of pretending otherwise.

#thg #the hunger games #catching fire #kat talks

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dream-to-be-frog · 3 years

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hello just watched kate (2021) and. thoughts. spoilers ahead, of course.

things about kate (2021) that make me go ????:

mew is super pretty but. why is she a random white girl in japan.

moreover, why are she and her handler (henceforth known as haymitch because hunger games) both in japan !

it just. does not seem like the story needed to be in japan. it feels like they chose japan for vibez only. oh, there’s cool technology stuff and bright colors! that sure would look nice on screen! we can do some fun weird fetishizy implications about asians while we are at it hehe🤪

like 30 mins into the film @scrambld-egg was like “why’s it always the yazuka?” and like. YEAH. this could have happened in russia or be italian mafia or literally any kind of organized crime anywhere because of how absolutely little relevance it has to the plot.

why is kijima’s brother even a target? why him specifically? what did he do bestey

what does their “crime syndicate” even do? what kind of illegalities do they get into? did anyone even consider this

did anyone consider any of this plot, frankly. like i have to ask.

we all knew haymitch (varrick) was working against her after she suggested retiring and like. that kind of plot twist is fun and all but GOD would it kill y’all to make it more ... something ? dramatic, personal, thought-through ?

like. yeah he is selfish and cruel and obviously groomed her from a time she was vulnerable and a literal fucking child to be his little killer but WHY is he like this. we do not get any backstory for him, even a little.

similarly, what changed for renji that made him so willing to turn his back on family. we kind of see something in that he thinks he can do better than kijima and he got power hungry but for a group that supposedly cares about family he sure was willing to massacre his.

in fact, kijima even said something about how western poisonous mindsets overtook renji and made him turn his back on family and just. okay but for why

it’s just a Lot to kill a child, especially a niece or whatever she was to him. silly

we know kate was trained to be a killer since being literal Baby but like. i wanted to see more flashbacks that made her solidify her implicit trust in haymitch.

i am begging why the FUCK is she even in japan it does not seem like she travels much

for that matter, if she IS the kind of assassin who travels a lot (i miss villanelle at least she fucking made sense), they literally never mention it. they literally do not talk about her life experiences aside from freaky haymitch being a weirdo awful man.

to recap: did she travel for her murder work? if yes, why not say so. if no, why the FUCK is she in japan of all places.

how can you have a story in japan about a woman and make her white

and then have her massacre a bunch of asian men for no reason that we know. i didn’t even know to hate them i just felt bad and there is something unsettling (as an article i found articulated better than i could as i watched) about watching her mindlessly murder a bunch of poc.

like i get the reason why ani was obsessed with kate because she lost everyone and new mother figure saved her life but like

why does kate care so much? if it’s guilt, aside from her quitting because she can’t get over osaka, we don’t see any of her conflict.

i’m just. kind of bitter because the premise and the characters have SO MUCH POTENTIAL but the absolute lack of plot is devastating

and like. i can appreciate a good action movie with zero plot + blood and vibes only but the way that kate started made me genuinely be like oh wow! they sure have a lot to work with i hope they develop things!

things that kate (2021) could have done better to truly live up to all of it’s incredible potential; a list:

listen the actress is super pretty (she reminds me of renfri from the witcher and i would DIE for renfri) but like. she should have been half-japanese.

when ani tells kate “we’re the same” .... girl help that would he SO MUCH FUCKING BETTER if kate was half japanese.... kate would literally see herself in ani, a half-japanese girl who is forced to grow up too soon with too much violence around her.... the parallels between the lives they could lead and have lead would be so much cooler....

and it would goddamn explain why the FUCK she was in japan oh my god it is just so seems white savioury even though kate doesn’t play the hero and like

a flashback scene (NOT a flash of one) where she was younger and haymitch was coaching her and something goes wrong and you see that weird freaky deaky bond demonstrating her implicit trust in him.

how can you have ani LITERALLY SAY “i’m the last person you’ll ever get to know. are you sure you don’t want to know me? that’s sad, kate. that’s sad.” AND LITERALLY NEVER HAVE KATE LEARN MORE ABOUT HER

like they made kate fall asleep like IMMEDIATELY after, so everything she could have learned about ani was said to her when she was passed out. and it made the scene where ani takes selfies with her kinda weird because there is not that much emotional impact

similarly her death was anticlimactic? i like when action movies have anticlimactic deaths but those deaths usually have some emotional impact and. this was so hollow besties

it just is such a shame because the cinematography was BRILLIANT and again there was. SO MUCH POTENTIAL for a movie to MEAN something

there were a couple of metal lines too, but those seemed hollow as well. “i’m dying. i have to finish... i have to finish something.” could have been SO GOOD. “my life was never mine. until now.” (this one may not be verbatim i cannot remember exactly) could have been SO GOOD. the basic premise was all there... she was regaining control of her life hours before her death, the poetry is all there, just BEGGING to mean something. but it doesn’t, in the end. it doesn’t mean much at all.

some action movies are good for nothing but blood and i can respect that. but when a story is TRYING to have a point but misses in delivering... that’s when i get upset. i love mindless shit but if you want me to care, fucking make me care, kings!!!!

that is all.

anyway. thoughts?

#kate 2021 #kate netflix #movie critiques #mary elizabeth winstead #netflix #might add more later #we will see #frog king rants #frog king reviews #decided i will tag every time i mention lexa in a post just to see how often lmao #i love lexa <3 #long post #my post

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theartofdreaming1 · 3 years

Photo

Slightly paraphrased, but Peeta talking about that moment he developed his crush on Katniss is just too sweet 😊

As usual, my thoughts regarding this week’s prompts and random thoughts on chapters 22-24 are below the cut (sprinkled in some psychology thoughts again).

heart

Honestly, I think the people in Panem would perceive the whole everlark storyline the same way we perceive and react to our ships on tv (desperately wanting to reach through the screen, shoving the characters forcefully together, screaming “And now, kiss!”); especially the Capitolites who barely recognize the tributes (or people in the districts, in general) as people. The people in the districts would definitely view the whole thing more under a “reality tv” kind of lens, questioning how much of the relationship is real or not (we know that Finnick certainly thought that the entire thing was just a spiel, until Peeta hit that forcefield). The time spent in the cave must have been pretty convincing, though.

mind

I think that Katniss is still torn here - On the one hand, she kind of wants to believe that Peeta is actually into her (remember the happiness she felt when Peeta told her how his crush on her began, and it all added up and seemed so real), but on the other hand she’s terrified of that possibility because A) lingering trauma from her mom’s depression in response the Mr. Everdeen’s death, B) Katniss never even considered falling in love, so that’s a sudden unexpected thing to deal with, and C) maybe it’s just for the sake of the Games; and wouldn’t that hurt, getting your hopes up only to learn it was only for show? (How about we ask Peeta about that?)

soul

Yeah, that quote about Peeta only eating stale bread also struck me as quite sad. It just further adds to his understanding how there should be more to life than just survival, though. (One day, I’ll make that post about Peeta, Katniss, and Maslow’s pyramid of needs, I swear! I’ve already gathered some research material)

Chapter 22

My mother’s hand strokes my cheek and I don’t push it away as I would in wakefulness, never wanting her to know how much I crave that gentle touch. How much I miss her even though I still don’t trust her. - Ugh, I can’t... Katniss misses her mom, misses being cared for😢 I’m so glad we’re going to see her patch up her relationship with her mom in CF... On a different note, Katniss craving that gentle touch just perfectly illustrates why she’s so drawn to Peeta, who is generally such a gentle soul (I mean, he’s literally the person stroking her cheek here 😊)

He [Peeta] doesn’t seem angry about my tricking him, drugging him, and running off to the feast. Maybe I’m just too beat-up and I’ll hear about it later when I’m stronger. But for the moment, he’s all gentleness. - As I was saying... 😉

“I’ll go hunting soon,” I say. “Not too soon, all right?” he says. “You just let me take care of you for a while.” - I love them so much😊🥰 And then Peeta makes sure she’s well-fed and hydrated, he rubs her cold feet and tucks her into the sleeping back... and she let’s him! 💗

“He [Thresh] let you go because he didn’t want to owe you anything?” asks Peeta in disbelief. “Yes. I don’t expect you to understand it. You’ve always had enough. But if you’d lived in the Seam, I wouldn’t have to explain,” I say. “And don’t try. Obviously I’m too dim to get it,” he says. - Oof. This exchange here is interesting in many ways: 1) it highlights their different experiences, tied to their different socioeconomic backgrounds, basically, and 2) that Katniss is very much aware of this difference, but we also see hints of her own ignorance here - because Peeta didn’t have to starve in his childhood, she thinks that he can’t possibly understand this level of hardship; but there are other ways in which one can suffer/lack fundamental needs, which brings us to 3) Peeta’s response about being “obviously too dim to get it”; I think this is a clue to his mom being also verbally abusive towards him: she called him “stupid creature” when he burnt those loaves of bread for Katniss and when he’s losing it in the attic of the Justice Building in D11 in CF he is mad that Katniss and Haymitch keep things from him “like [he’s] too inconsequential or stupid or weak to handle them”, which - to me - sounds like he’s tired of being treated that way (i.e. the way his mother treats him)

“I want to go home, Peeta,” I say plaintively, like a a small child. - God, this is a teenager in a murder-arena who feels like wanting to go home is a childish notion instead of a totally legitimate wish for anyone in that situation, regardless of age 😢

It’s not that Peeta’s soft exactly, and he’s proved he’s not a coward. But there are things you don’t question too much, I guess, when your home always smells like baking bread, whereas Gale questions everything. What would Peeta think of the irreverent banter that passes between us as we break the law each day? Would it shock him? The things we say about Panem? Gale’s tirades against the Capitol? - Geez, Katniss, give Peeta some credit here! A) It’s not like Peeta can walk around District 12 talking publicly about the injustices happening there - she and Peeta hadn’t even talked with each other before the reaping, whereas Gale is her best friend who rants to her while they are outside the confines of D12 and B) Peeta is literally the one who introduced the whole “not a piece in their Games”-idea to her; why would he be clutching his pearls over Katniss and Gale’s irreverent banter?! Just because Peeta didn’t live on the brink of starvation (she again brings up how his house smells like bread and - at this point - still thinks that the family running the bakery actually gets to eat what they produce just like that), doesn’t mean he doesn’t see how shitty life in D12 is - he can still want better conditions for those who are worse off than him!

“I did do the right thing,” I say. “No! Just don’t, Katniss!” His grip tightens, hurting my hand, and there’s real anger in his voice. “Don’t die for me. You won’t be doing me any favors. All right?” - Well, we’ll see this song and dance again in CF...

And while I was talking, the idea of actually losing Peeta hit me again and I realized how much I don’t want him to die. [...] And it’s not about what will happen back home. And it’s not just that I don’t want to be alone. It’s him. I do not want to lose the boy with the bread.” - I wish CF Katniss would remember this moment when she is questioning her motives about saving Peeta’s life in the arena - You. Care. For. This. Boy! You. Value. Him. For. Who. He. Is!!!

This is the first kiss that we’re both fully aware of. [...] This is the first kiss where I actually feel stirring inside my chest. Warm and curious. This is the first kiss that makes me want another. - Whoo! Is it hot in here or is it just me? 😉

I’m struck by his immediacy now. As we settle in, he pulls my head down to use his arm as a pillow; the other rests protectively over me even when he goes to sleep. No one has held me like this in such a long time. Since my father died and I stopped trusting my mother, no one else’s arms have made me feel this safe. - He makes her feel safe in a murder-arena!!! 😭 This is the kind of stuff that makes everlark just a top tier romance, tbh

Peeta telling Katniss about his crush starting on their first day of school 🥰😭 - and her reaction to it... For a moment, I’m almost foolishly happy - yes, because you have a crush on him, too! - and then confusion sweeps over me. Because we’re supposed to be making up this stuff [...] So, if those details are true... could it all be true? - YESSSSSSSS!!!

“You have a... remarkable memory, “ I say haltingly. - as a severely socially awkward person... I felt that lame response in my bones 😅

“You don’t have much competition anywhere.” And this time, it’s me who leans in. - God, this would be such an amazing moment if it didn’t get tainted by that immediate sponsor gift, which just serves to muddle Katniss’s feelings with her sense of survival, further complicating her relationship with Peeta... *sigh*

Chapter 23

“What was that you were saying just before the food arrived? Something about me... no competition... best thing that ever happened to you...” “I don’t remember that last part,” I say, hoping it’s too dim in here for the cameras to pick up my blush. “Oh, that’s right. That’s what I was thinking,” he says. - Peeta is the master of being a cheeky little shit and adorable flirt at the same time

“So, since we were five, you never even noticed any other girls?” I ask him. “No, I noticed just about every girl, but none of them made a lasting impression but you,” he says. - I appreciate that while Peeta has had a crush on Katniss forever, he clearly didn’t spend the entire time pining after her, oblivious to the rest of the world - he has a life outside of Katniss Everdeen, but ultimately, it all lead back to her

A disturbing thought hits me. “But then, our only neighbor will be Haymitch!” “Ah, that’ll be nice,” says Peeta, tightening his arms around me. “You and me and Haymitch. Very cozy. Picnics, birthdays, long winter nights around the fire retelling old Hunger Games tales.” “I told you, he hates me!” I say, but I can’t help laughing at the image of Haymitch becoming my new pal. - Laugh all you want, this is going to end up being your future anyway 😄

He [Haymitch]’s at something of a disadvantage because most mentors have a partner, another victor to help them whereas Haymitch has to bready to go into action at any moment. Kind of like me when I was alone in the arena. I wonder how he’s holding up, with the drinking, the attention, and the stress of tring to keep us alive. - Katniss is already worrying about her “new pal”, I see ;)

Maybe he [Haymitch] wasn’t always a drunk. Maybe, in the beginning, he tried to help the tributes. But then it got unbearable. It must be hell to mentor two kids and then watch them die. - Honestly, that sounds absolutely awful...

Poor, Katniss, when she learns of Thresh’s death :( - But no one will understand my sorrow at Thresh’s murder. - It’s horrible how compassion and basic human decency gets construed as ‘weakness’ in the world of Hunger Games (esp. the Capitol)

Then I escape into sleep, comforted by a full belly and the steady warmth of Peeta beside me. - Honestly, I think a word analysis of THG-series could be interesting; how often does Katniss mention “warmth”, “steady/steadiness” “safe/safety/security” in connection with “Peeta”?

“We make a goat cheese and apple tart at the bakery,” he says. “Bet that’s expensive,” I say. “Too expensive for my family to eat. Unless it’s gone very stale. Of course, practically everything we eat is stale,” says Peeta [...] Huh. I always assumed the shopkeepers live a soft life. And it’s true, Peeta has always had enough to eat. But there’s something kind of depressing about living your life on stale bread - Katniss is starting to realize that the lives of the merchants isn’t a cushy as she thought; also, in a way, we see a “prettier” version of how Panem treats the districts overall -> feeding the districts just enough that they can do their work (plus/minus a couple of people who’ll die of starvation, but at a small, for Capitolites insignificant margin), but not so much that they are in good shape to rebel; here, the merchants of D12 have just enough that they can live a “decent” life (they know it could be worse -> the Seam), but they don’t have enough to live a free, comfortable, self-determined life either. This also just further drives a wedge between the inhabitants of D12 (the merchants won’t want to rebel because they don’t want to get ‘demoted’ in their lifestyle, starving like the people from the Seam, and the Seam folk feel resentful towards the merchant people, while also not having the resources to rebel, due to their awful socioeconomic conditions)

What would be my life like on a daily basis? Most of it has been consumed with the acquisition of food. Take that away and I’m not really sure who I am, what my identity is. - It’s so sad who Katniss has been so consumed with ensuring that her most base needs are fulfilled that she barely has had the time to really figure out who she is and what she wants from life (If we’re talking Maslow’s pyramid of needs, Katniss would primarily be stuck on the lowest tier 😢)

At least, we’ll be friends, I think. Nothing will change the fact that we’ve saved each other’s lives in here. And beyond that, he will always be the boy with the bread. Good friends. - Honestly, Katniss counting on being good friends with Peeta after the Games is the highest honor she can bestow on him at that moment (she’s so into him, lol); of course, knowing that their relationship is going to be a bit rocky once they’ve come back makes this thought a little sad... but we also know they’ll make up (and out ;) in the future

Peeta licking his plate and blowing a kiss out to Effie is such an adorable goofball-moment 😊

I cover his mouth with my hand, but I’m laughing. “Stop! Cato could be right outside our cave.” He grabs my hand away. “What do I care? I’ve got you to protect me now,” says Peeta, pulling me to him. - This moment would be so cute (also, Peeta’s so confident in Katniss’s skills to protect him, which is adorable - toxic masculinity who?) but... Ugh, he’s just so giddy here, it kind of breaks my heart for when he learns later that (at least some) of Katniss’s reactions were just for show

“If we want food, we better head back up to my old hunting grounds,” I say. “Your call, Just tell me what you need me to do,” Peeta says. - Love how Peeta’s always ready to follow Katniss’s lead :)

Ideally, I’d dump Peeta now with some simple root-gathering chore and go hunt [...] “Katniss,” he says. “We need to split up. I know I’m chasing away the game.” [...] “Show me some plants to gather and that way we’ll both be useful.” - Teamwork! If it weren’t for Katniss worrying for Peeta’s safety, they’d be on the same page here

“What if you climbed up in a tree and acted as a lookout while I haunted?” I say, trying to make it sound like very important work. “What if you show me what’s edible around here and go get us some meat?” he says, mimicking my tone. - I really like how Peeta’s challenges Katniss here; he doesn’t just go along with everything she says, while still being quite reasonable

I feel like I’m eleven, again, tethered not to the safety of the fence but to Peeta, allowing myself twenty, maybe thirty yards of hunting space. [...] I allow myself to drift farther away, and soon have two rabbits and a fat squirrel to show for it. - I don’t know, but Katniss feeling tethered to Peeta makes me think of Mary Ainsworth’s attachment theory, according to which children with a secure attachment to their primary caregiver use their “attachment figure as a safe base to explore the environment”... Of course, Ainsworth’s Strange Situation was conducted with young children, but attachment styles are supposed to influence the relationships we form with people in our later lives as well (including romantic relationships)... I dunno, just a random association that popped into my brain 😅

Chapter 24

Peeta’s a whiz with fires, coaxing a blaze out of the damp wood. - Heh, Peeta sure knows how to handle fire, huh, Katniss (or should I say: Girl on Fire?) 😏

I order him into the sleeping bag and set aside the rest of his food for him when he wakes. He drops off immediately. I pull the sleeping bag up to his chin and kiss his forehead, not for the audience, but for me. Because I’m so greateful that he’s still here, not dead by the stream as I’d thought. - Aww, this is so sweet (and domestic)!

It’s funny. I feel almost as if it’s the first day of the Games again. That I’m in the same position. [...] But no, there’s the boy waiting beside me. I feel his arms wrap around me. - They are a team! Katniss doesn’t have to face the horrors of the Games alone anymore! It keeps boiling down to this.

#thgagain #thg #hunger games #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #thg meta #my sketches and drawings #everlark

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hello-nichya-here · 3 years

Note

Do you think ship wars are the reason why most people hate love triangles?

I think it is one of the reasons why fandoms hate it. The other reasons are the same ones that make casual viewers hate love triangles:

1) Overexposure - Love triangles are EVERYWHERE, to the point that people are surprised when they don't happen. Seeing a trope so many times (often at least twice in the same story) made people sick of it. There’s also the problem of marketing focusing on nothing but the love triangles in a story, even if there’s much more important, much cooler stuff going on in the story - I took a loooong time to watch/read The Hunger Games because the advertising made it look like just a dystopian, non-supernatural version of Twilight.

2) Cover Up For Bad/Lazy Writing - It is very common for writers (especially those making TV shows that have been running for a while) to force love triangles to happen, so they’ll have a cheap source of drama that will help them disguise the fact that they’ve completely ran out of ideas and have no clue what to do with the story anymore.

3) Boring Cliches - The bland main character who has no real personality but somehow gets two people madly in love with them. The lead that has to choose between the loving best friend who is the safe, less thrilling option and the bad guy/girl that is deeply troubled but oh so passionate. Two siblings/best friends are in love with the same person. Two sworn enemies want the same guy/girl. The main character that is totally oblivious to effect they have over one or both love interests and accidentally leads them on. The couple that seems to be meant for each other until a new character shows up right as they were going through a crisis. The main character falls in love with someone who is already in a unhappy/abusive relationship with someone else. You’ve seen all of this before, so did I, and so did everyone else on earth. We’ve seen it all many times. Too many times. To the point that even when these cliches are done in a compelling, interesting way, part of us is thinking “Not this shit again.” It doesn’t help that it’s often painfully obvious who’s going to get a happy ending and who will get their heart broken, which leads us to...

4) Overstaying Its Welcome - In any good story/arc, it comes a moment when the audience knows how it is going to end, and this 100% applies to love triangles. So, it is very frustrating to have the writers treat us like idiots who cannot see that A is clearly going to end up with B instead of with C. It’s even worse when we have a Ross and Rachel type of situation, when both characters have A TON of forced “romances” that we all know are doomed to fail because the dumbasses are clearly going to end up together. The only thing worse is...

5) The Shitty Plot-Twist - Ha! You thought the writers would create a minimaly coherent ending for this plot? Jokes on you! The love triangle ended in the worst, most nonsensical way possible (”Nichya, was this entry just an excuse for you to bitch about the ending of How I Met Your Mother yet again?” Yes. Yes, it was.)

6) Why Is This Happening? - For a love triangle to work, the audience needs to believe that both pairings could work. We need to believe that the affection the characters for feel for each other is real. We cannot be thinking “Why do they both like this person anyway?” or “Why can’t the fucker make up their mind already?” or “The right choice is clearly the other guy” or “Why are these two together? They’re gonna be all confused again the second a new character shows up anyway. This pairing sucks, just kill it” or “Are we sure they’re in love with the main character and not with each other?”

7) Ever Heard Of OT3s? - Many love triangles would be improoved if they were shorter, less dramatic, and ended in polyamory.

8) Terrible Stories About Terrible People - If the writers are not careful, love triangles bring out the absolute worst in the characters - especially the one who is trying to choose between two love interests. Seriously, audiences have had enough of self-centered assholes who cheat/are two seconds away from cheating on their partner, play with people’s feelings, come crawling back to the person whose heart they broke once things don’t go their way, and even act all indignant when the guy/girl they rejected dared to move on from them and possibly even find someone else.

Bonus: The Fake Love Triangle - Can writers just stop acting like the creep who was told “no” many times yet is still pursuing the person they “love” is an actual option and not a pathetic loser? And that the person who told them “no” a million times is not wronging them in any way by being with someone else? (Yes, this is still about How I Met Your Mother)

#asks #love triangles #fuck ted mosby #how i met your mother #worst finale ever #hunger games

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vanillann · 4 years

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real or not real? (natasha romanoff x reader)

a/n: this is based off the hunger games because i just finished reading the books!! also a little badass woman fic because of international woman’s day!! love all woman, I MEAN ALL WOMAN!!

word count: 1.6k

natasha romanoff masterlist

As I finally landed, I watched everyone face drop once they recognized who I was. My brain felt like static as I took the steps to where the team was camped out.

I watched Steve Rogers, I think that’s what the file I was given said, stand up and look at the other members of the squad. As he approached I felt flashes of memories, or maybe memories, flood me.

“(Y/N)? What are you doing here?” The blond approached me but stopped a few feet away. He tried to keep his voice clear of emotion but it was useless, I couldn’t be trusted yet.

“I was told you needed back-up,” I didn’t bring up how the nice blonde woman, I think she said her name was Pepper, argued with Mr. Fury for days about me re-joining the team.

“Well you came just in time.”

By the look in his eye, I didn't want what he wanted in the slightest.

I followed him to the tents that were hidden among the trees, a shiver going up my spine when I made eye contact with any members of the team.

I could see old versions of myself interacting with each, but some felt so real and some felt so fake I couldn’t put them right in my mind.

One I caught the red head, Natasha, eye I felt my body grow stiff. She was common in my memories, some of her gentle and meaningful and some of her enraged with bullets flying at me. Tony had informed me that most of the bad memories are Hydra’s doing, that they were never real. I couldn’t help but wonder how true that was as she backed away from me when I walked past her.

“(Y/N) was dropped off for back-up,” Mr. Rogers spoke from behind me, taking the seat next to the brunette with the metal arm. I had spoken to him twice when I was in the hospital, apparently he had something to do with my capture and refused to see me more after that.

“Um, Cap?” Clint, or was it Carl, spoke up. He gave me a few side glances but said nothing else until he was pulled aside.

As soon as they were out of ear shot I watched them go at each other, arguing about who knew what, most likely me. I did my best to ignore the eyes on me, but I couldn’t help but snap.

“Have something to say?”

All eyes flooded off me, except for Natasha who crossed her arms and stared me down.

“You aren’t going to try and kill me again, are you?”

Her question enraged me, but I had no reason to be mad. I was the one who attacked, but I swore she was after me.

“I thought you were a threat,” my words felt icy as they hung in the air.

“I wasn’t before and I’m not now,” her words were just as cold, running in my blood like a river in December.

“Look I’m sorry, okay? I have all these memories and I can’t tell what’s real or not, so yes I attacked you,” I sat against the log farthest from anyone, so I couldn’t hurt someone.

“Then ask.”

Mr. Rogers came back, taking the seat he took seconds ago and watched me closely. He looked more opened to talking then the C man that came back with him.

“Will that work?” I looked to Banner, the doctor who checks on me often when I was strapped to the hospital bed.

“It can’t hurt,” he shrugged his shoulder and continued to look around the group. They spoke with their eyes and I couldn’t help but wonder would the old me under their silent conversation.

“I was a part of your group, real or not real?”

“Real,” Rogers spoke up, nodding to each member as if to tell them it was okay, but I couldn’t be sure of that.

I nodded, letting the fake and real memories flood me within every inch of my brain. I had enough questions to keep them up all night.

“I was kidnapped in my sleep by Hydra, real or not real?”

“Real,” the man with the metal arm spoke this time, giving me the nod this time and I felt as if he was letting me join their secret conversation.

“It was a few months ago, we couldn’t get to you in time,” Banner filled me in more.

I could vaguely remember the screaming and the way my bed-sheets felt that night, but everything else was slightly blurry.

“Natasha tried to kill me, real or not real?”

“Not real,” she was quick to set me straight, giving me a look I couldn’t read but I didn’t mind it, not when it was coming from her.

She was the only person being straight with me, not jumping around the conversation that I needed to have for my sake.

“You’re favorite color is Orange, real or not real?” I didn’t take my eyes off her, the conversation felt so intimate even if everyone was watching.

“Yes, and yours in red because you say it reminds you of my hair,” she looked to her hands, rubbing them up and down the side of her thighs.

“Okay,” I nodded as I absorbed the information about myself, the first piece of information I’ve heard that wasn’t in a file.

“I think we should start getting some sleep, we have a long day ahead,” Rogers pointed to his tent, his voice soft yet firm.

Nobody disagrees, each telling the other goodnight while I got head titles and I'm waves. The only people to tell me goodnight were Rogers and his friend, who I think was named James but I remembered his face clearly now.

I was once his friend too.

I didn’t move from my log, I couldn’t sleep much anyways and I couldn’t be shoved into a tent alone and expected not to go crazy. I said nothing as Natasha moved a few logs closer to me, staring at the ground as she waited.

“Anymore questions?”

“Plenty, but do you have the answers?” I ducked my head, hoping to get a glimpse of her eyes but I was memorized when I did.

Her face flashed over my brain, the same red but straighter and her eye shined under a street lamp. Her lips were as soft as hotel pillows and her touch was like magic as it ghosted over my shoulder.

She looked like magic before the sight was gone and I watched her slightly dirty hair hang in her eye, that wasn't as bright, and the memories started to fog again.

“You kissed me, real or not real?”

The silent felt like screaming as she chewed on her bottom lip, waiting for her words to work.

“Real.”

It wasn’t as confident as her words before, but it felt so much more honest than anything I remembered.

“How did I think you wanted to kill me then?”

“Hydra turned all your memories of me to shit, all the ones they knew about,” she rolled something in-between her finger and I wanted to ask but I couldn't bring myself to do it.

“Do you remember any good ones?”

She held back a laugh, finally looking up from the ground to me with a sad smile stretch on her lips.

“Plenty,” she nodded, going back to the object in her hand.

“Tell me about them, please?”

The ‘please’ sounded so desperate in my head, but it seemed to bring her ease as she moved her body to face me.

“We used to window shop like crazy together,” she looked up at my confused face and continued, “it’s like walking around and looking at stuff you’ll never buy.”

The memories of walking on a sidewalk with her filled me up, the feeling of gentle flowers brushed against my skin filled me.

“Then one time, after we kissed, you pulled me into this antique store and told me to pick something. We argued about it for ten minutes before you gave me this look I could never say no to, so I grabbed the closet thing and told you it’s what I wanted. It was the locket, I hate wearing it because it's so big so I keep it in my pocket,” she held out the locket in question, waiting for me to draw closer and once I did she opened it.

Inside was a photo of me, rolling my eyes at the camera but a hint of a smile on my lips. I looked so content for someone rolling their eyes, I wonder if I always like that.

“You were, never took many things seriously,” I didn’t realize I spoke out loud, but I was glad I did when she almost laughed at the memories.

That when it started to really hit me, not just the memories but the feelings. They laughs and the jokes, and all the inbetweens. I didn’t really know what I was saying, not for a while, but I couldn’t stop myself.

“You love me, real or not real?”

Her answer wasn’t hesitate, even with the same pause, she knew as soon as I asked she just wasn’t ready to say it.

“Real,” her voice was barely above a whisper but I heard it.

I wanted to respond with ‘me too’ or something along the lines, but my answer was much more complex and I couldn’t only hope she understood.

“I think the old me loved you back, from how I feel when I think of the little things, and I can only hope the new me can remember why.”

I was scared when she said nothing, as if I made an impossible situation worse, but when she looked up at me her eyes twinkled again and her hair appeared redder.

“Let me know when you do?”

“You’ll be the first to know, Nat.”

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not-ur-normie · 3 years

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Cristal witches, aka Sasha making headcanons for the world of Eldarya

I have this idea since forever at this point, so I figured it wouldn't hurt a fly to talk about it a little. It comes from years before when I wanted my OC to not be human but some kind of magic creature, so here we go.

English is not my first languange, so I am apologizing in advance.

Note: Throughout the post, the timespan is after the Blue Sacrifice, but I will talk about that too later on.

Who are cristal witches?

Cristal witches are witches who hold power connected to maana.

The bigger maana surronds them, the bigger their powers get

The reason they are called cristal witches is because they can form a connection with the Crystal

They are creatures with big potencial to play big roles in Eldarya, but that is exactly the point where things go wrong

More about witches

Most cristal witches are women, it's really rare when a male is born and inherits magical power, but there are cases when it happens

There were never any worry about them dying out, since the genes are VERY strong

When a male and female cristal witch have a child who is also one, they turn out way stronger then the others who only have one parent being one

Don't get me wrong, one parent makes the kid already strong as it is, but two parents are just a whole new level

Cristal witches all have tattoos, all in different colors. Most of the time the colors don't have anything to do with the powers they can hold, but lighter colors indicate lighter powers, meaning: lighter colors can't use magic that requires bigger maana usage, like black magic, or healing magic

(If you play the game, you sure know the voodoo outfit, I based the tattoos on those tattoos, so you can see the colors if you google it)

Since cristal witches are a heavily mixed community thanks to the overload of women, there are times where kids inherit both of their parents specific genetics

It's rare tho, because of the witch genes mixing up with other races' is not that common

But when it happens, it always gains attention

Cristal witches are not just cristal witches because they are connected to the Crystal, but because they literally have crystals all over their body

These crystals are mostly small ones and has the color of the tattoos

They are really human-like, so if they can hide their tattos and crystals they can perfectly blend in, which did come handy at some point

Their lifespan is about 150-200 years

They are able to open the portal to the human world

(here you can see the children of my OC [Chrystal] and Ezarel, who were lucky enough to inherit both of their parents genes, so they are witches with elf ears.)

How did they live?

Back then cristal witches lived in small communities, mostly small villages, but there where some communities living a full nomad life

Since they live so long, there were not many of them to begin with

These smaller communities lived close to each other way back then, but the nomad communities started to move around after a while

These are highly spiritual communities, especially that they are fully able to communicate with the Oracle if they wish so

They had special type of education, where witches were learning to use basic magic, while non-witches who lived with them learned alchemy

They had strict rules, that everybody needed to follow, they weren't allowed to use their power randomly

They needed to get an approval to use magic that requires more manna than your basic magic, and also to use dangerous or risky magic

If somebody went against this rule more than 5 times, they got their magic taken away

They choose new leader every year, although if a leader was good, they sticked with them and kept on picking them

The leader was not leading alone, although they made the final decisions

There were many smaller position available next to the leader, which are also chosen by the other witches

Overally they are really pieceful, so the conflicts are not that common

Cristal witches are able to do many things with magic, but it takes a lifetime to gain a really controlled power, so older, well-educated witches are highly respected and the leader was chosen from them most of the times

Some really strong witches are even able to bring back people from the death, but only if they're right there when the death happens

The Blue Sacrifice

The reason that Cristal witches were never part of the council that planned out the Sacrifice was that the races forming the council agreed that Eldarya could need them in the future (and they were damned right)

Before the Sacrifice taken place, witches were not that strong than after it happend

I imagine it the way, that once the sacrifice was made, Eldarya alone had more maana than when the two worlds were one and since witches' powers are mostly maana based, it made their powers grow way stronger than before

(I hope this makes sense lol)

Where things went wrong

As I mentioned before, they are creatures with big potential

When the Blue Sacrifice went wrong, the races in Eldarya needed the witches help the most

Almost every community, town, villige, whatever had at least one witch living with them to help out whenever there were high need

The problem is, that there was always high need; as we know Eldarya was in trouble

With the help of the witches it was easier to go for supplies to the human world, although only those communities could do this who had stronger, more experienced witches

There were even witches who were able to cast spells and make the field able to grow some edible plants

And this is exactly where things went terribly wrong

Since cristal witches have a high value, there were many who hunted them or tortured them for their powers

Why? Well, I know all the above reasons would be enough, but there are more to it

Cristal witches' blood is able to make the lifespan of whoever drinks it longer

And not just that, but it can completely function as food, it stops hunger for longer periods of time (weeks, sometimes months, depending on power) and makes the immune system 100% healthy

It was also used for really expensive medication

You know what else is really valuable? The tears of witches.

It can fasten healing and was used for many medication as well as their blood

But only tears that hold heavy emotions count, since the tear drops turn into little crystals

These informations spread real fast after a while and witch hunts became so serious that at one point several communities started to think that it would be better to sacrifice them as well so maybe Eldarya could gain its full balance [the Guard of El also wanted this, just in case you were curious]

Witches would've 100% sacrificed themselfs if they got asked by the time the Blue Sacrfice happend

But after all the terror they went through, their trust was completely broken

They did not want to die for all these selfish folks wanting to murder them, not thinking about their race for a single second

So one day they completely vanished

Nobody knows how exactly, the common guess was that they opened the portal and moved to the human world, giving up on their magic

I mean everything was better than dying for your murderers

After the vanish

Of course, not all of the witches vanished, but the witch communities that lived together

Those who lived in certain places helping out stayed there

Back then the Guard of El had a witch with them too

Sadly, they got scared of her possibly gaining control over the guard, since she was very much loved... So they decided to kill her [yes, they wanted to sacrifice her, and then killed her, way to go]

The last known cristal witch was a male, living with the Fenghuangs, but he died just before The Origins' story starts

But... Are they really all gone?

Okaaaay soooo I bet there are stuff in this which doesn't exactly fit the story and/or I remember incorrectly, but it is what it is.

On the very first art you can see my OC named Chrystal. Well, she arrives to Eldarya the same way Erika did in the original story, the main difference is that she turnes out to be a cristal witch and this fact leaves the guard in a numb shock. Suddenly the only living cristal witch is with them and that is changing their situation entirely.

I am sure I will write down Chrystals story with illustratons and whatnot, but currently I am working on my Moonligh Lovers' OC's illus, so that will take some time.

Anyway, this will have another part, I wanna at least introduce Chrystal so you can see a cristal witch in action, hurray.

Ah, yeah, if there are facts from the game messed up, feel free to tell me, I am not biting. You can also use this idea for your ocs, I don't mind. Hugs<3

#eldarya #eldarya new era #eldarya the origins #eldarya headcanons

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purpleyellow · 4 years

Text

Road To Kingdom

The boyz 12th member

Mae’s masterlist

“A summary of Mae during RTK”

a/n: not @/ me using the performance names as historical events. Feel free to share your thoughts with me. Requests are open! 🧡

... After the concept meeting for Sword of Victory...

Mae cracked open the door to a practice room, making sure no one was inside before dropping her stuff, as well as her body, on the floor. The lightbulb making it almost impossible to keep her eyes open reminded her that she used to do that during her trainee days.

Here she was again, feeling hopeless like she was going to face the biggest challenge ever. And the girl was sure she wasn’t ready for it.

Minkyung had a problem of self-doubting even though she couldn’t pinpoint it, all the members seemed willing to take on the challenge, yet she felt like she’d be the downfall of the group. And yes, she had a thing for being dramatic as well, that’s why she rested the back of her hand on her forehead and sprawled out her other arm.

The door flung open with mild force, startling her from her thoughts and sending her body into a more normal position. Q entered the room without a word and just laid on the floor next to her. Both members looked at the ceiling deep in thought.

Mae went back to the idea she had during the meeting. Not a particularly bright one, though it did attack the fact she felt like an upcoming burden to the group. Taking a deep breath she mumbled, “I think I should take a hiatus”.

After her words, the room went back to silence. Her heartbeat had increased due to the heaviness of what she had spoken, and looking to the side, she saw Changmin frown.

“Are you sick?” He asked after a few minutes and the girl shook her head. “Physically or mentally unwell? Is there an issue we can fix?”

His questions made her taken back, for Mae it was very clear why her taking a break would be beneficial for the group.

“I’m saying because of the program”

“We’re joining a competition, so you want to drop out?” Changmin sat up confused.

“I’m thinking of the bigger picture. The group will do better if you don’t have to worry about me keeping up with you guys”.

“No, you’re not. I’m sorry, but you’re being selfish now” He chuckled. “We don’t mind if you need to repeat the same move a couple of times extra to understand how it goes. Do you honestly think it’s going to help being one person down?”.

“I figured I wouldn’t be setting you back. It can be stressing sometimes and -” She sat up trying to explain her thoughts, and he shook his head.

“Minkyung, you bring a lot to the team, just because you struggle with something doesn’t mean it’s worth losing everything else. When we were rookies I used to get annoyed because you were so quick to give up. But then you began understanding how you learn and your limits. And even though it takes you a little longer you push yourself. Why did you suddenly come back to assuming you can’t do it?”

“The meeting today. Everyone is preparing a lot, there’s so much thought involved and maybe not pulling it off would mean I failed you guys”

“I’m terrified too,” Changmin nodded, placing a hand on his chest “I mean, did you listen to the stunts they were talking about. My first thought was to run away. But then I remembered we’re here to prove ourselves”

Sighing, Mae looked at him annoyed “You’re a great dancer, and singer and whatever else, you’ll do fine because that’s how your body works”

“And you’re an insane performer” He cut her off with wide eyes. A random giggle left his mouth before he continued “I’m talking about acting and becoming another person on stage, you literally do that in the blink of an eye. This is your chance of growth. Who cares if you pull an all-nighter to get the right angle? When you’re on stage it’s like someone else entirely, and we haven’t even done some crazy concepts like we’re planning on doing”

“If the angles are wrong then we won’t look synchronized” The girl mumbled looking at the big mirror and Q chuckled.

“And that’s why you’re not going to rest until it’s perfect. None of us is going too actually. We’re going in as a team, with all our flaws and strengths”

“It’s nerve-wracking, isn’t it?” She mumbled after a moment of silence. Changmin laughed and added. “I’m scared to death”

… Five hours before Catching Fire…

The last rehearsal before the performance had ended and the group went back to their dressing room. Sitting sideways on the couch, Mae rested her head on her arm and watched some members go get their makeup retouched.

Jacob sat on her side and stared at the girl’s blank face before laughing. “Can you blink, so I know you’re still alive?”

Blinking once, she slowly adverted her gaze to him and bit her lip “This is crazy”

“It’s not as fast-paced as they show it on TV though. At least we have some time to process what’s going on” Jacob shrugged making her narrow her eyes at him “But yeah. It is crazy”

“Sunwoo keeps going on high places. And there’s some acrobatic stuff I’m not sure how it works and-” She kept mumbling like she hadn’t been there for the tiring practices and rehearsals. Laughing Jacob interrupted her by adding.

“And you fake kicked someone”

“And I fake kicked someone” Mae repeated with wide eyes making him laugh and Hyunjae approach them.

“Hey, I’ve been jumping on high places too,” He said defensively making her stare at him and shrugged. Jaehyun laughing before patting her on the back “How about once we get home today you have a really long night to sleep”

“I’m good” Mae shook her head “I’ll sleep but tomorrow don’t let me miss the meetings please”

Agreeing with her, Hyunjae stepped back to the styling session and the girl stood up to use the restroom.

Just as Mae turned around the corner, a faint sound of a violin came from Golden Child’s door. Before she could fully process the song it was playing, the door opened wide showcasing Jangjun.

“Well, do we have a spy among us?” He laughed bowing at her and Mae repeated the gesture a little embarrassed.

“I was just passing by and heard the violin. I didn’t mean to interrupt” She said making an x with her hands.

“Nah, I don’t believe you” He teasingly said and dropped an arm over her shoulder, ultimately bringing her inside the room “So, what did you hear? Are you going to sell this information to your members? And what is it going to be your concept today, I can see the hunger games thing on your shirt, is it like a revolution”

“Uh, I don’t know… Hello” Bowing to the rest of Golden Child, the girl tried to remember what he had first asked her. “I only heard a melody, and don’t worry I won’t spread it around”

“Hyung, I told you not to play it right now” Bomin scoffed to Joochan, who seemed to realize he was still holding out his violin before hiding it on his back.

“But Mae-ssi is a friend, isn’t she? She will hold out the shock factor for us” He laughed making the girl nod and give them a thumbs up. “Do you know how to play it too?”

“I do actually” She laughed and Joochan gestured her to take the instrument “Oh, no it’s fine”

“You heard our song already. At least play for us or tell us something about your stage” Jibeom teased leading her to sigh and take the violin to herself.

Fixing up her posture, Mae quickly played a random song she had learned as a child making the boys cheer.

“Okay, I should be going now,” She said bowing embarrassed by their compliments and Denyeol nodded along. Fist bumping her before raising a finger.

“But, Mae if you could do us a favor” He started grabbing her attention “Please make sure you show you’re surprised”

Laughing she nodded making her way to the door, before leaving she held up her hands with her fists closed “Golden Child fighting!”

“Mae fighting!”

(requested by 🍓🥛 anon)

… Behind the scenes for Heroin…

“Why are we so embarrassing?” Sunwoo giggled and clicked his pen repeatedly. He and Mae were sitting on the same side of the table waiting for Leedo from Oneus to show up for the writing session.

Bouncing her leg, Mae hugged the boy’s arm and looked at the door expectantly, only to get startled by it opening up.

“Hello” The tall boy put his head inside the room and entered it slowly. The three idols greeted each other and sat down still a little awkward from being the first time they truly interacted.

“I got the demo, so we can write the raps to go with it” Leedo said unlocking his phone. A piano melody that would blend in with Sunmi’s Heroin started playing, and Mae quickly unlocked her own device.

Opening a piano app, she waited for the recording to be over before quickly replicating it on her phone in different tempos.

“You picked it up quite fast” Leedo laughed scribbling down on his paper, and she smiled. “Sorry, just a habit before writing. This way we can adjust it as we go”

“No yeah, sure” He cleared his throat and Sunwoo bit his lip to prevent himself from laughing.

“Anyway, for the lyrics, I was thinking we could talk about becoming an idol”

After finishing up with their rap parts. The three idols made their way up to the practice room where the rest had began working with the choreographer.

“Mae, come here” Juyeon called out as soon as she stepped in the room, so he could run over some parts with her and Ravn. “There’s only actual choreography for you after the last chorus, but we do some kind of puppet thing during your verse”

“My love for this song couldn’t be any bigger” Mae giggled and looked around the room for the camera “Sunmi Sunbaenim, if you’re watching this, let’s be friends”

Laughing, Juyeon pulled out a chair for them to start while saying “Watch out. Taemin Sunbaenim commented on danger, maybe she’ll actually see this”

“Wait, he did” Mae stopped with wide eyes and Juyeon nodded. “Holy sh-”

“Yeah” Laughing he pulled her arm “Just remember this is still a broadcast”

“Honestly, if she ever reaches out let me know. I want to be her friend too” Ravn added making them giggled, and she gave him a positive sign.

“As long as you don’t tell Juyeon, because he’s been censoring me a lot lately”

“Well, we have an agreement”

Sulking, Juyeon added “I don’t see how this is fair but okay”

… 1 minute after Quasi una fantasia …

The members bowed to the staff and extras before slowly stepping away from the stage. Mae could see some of the boys crowding around Juyeon who seemed pretty upset, though she had no idea what was going on.

Holding her side, the girl went behind the boy and gave him a back hug making them waddle together back to the dressing room. Once they were all settled back, she stepped away from the crowd and raised her shirt a bit showcasing a forming bruise right above her waist.

“Crap, how did that happen?” Kevin who looked her way at the right time said under his breath. “You need to ice it, probably"

“I bumped on the corner of the piano," She said recalling the incident. “Hopefully it wasn’t noticeable. The camera wasn’t turned to me anyway”

The one part that had gotten her most nervous during this performance was her piano solo for the climax of Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata. Not only it dictated the rhythm for the first dance break, but it was also challenging for her as she hadn’t played something like this in a while, and it ended a few seconds before her part.

So strategically speaking, she had to run off the instrument as soon as it was done and went back to the center of the performance. Not without hitting her hip against the wood.

“Is it hurting?” He asked while waving for a staff member and asking them for ice.

“It’s starting to. Do you think it’ll leave a big bruise?” Mae shrugged and hissed as the cold hit her warm skin. Shaking her head, she tried to focus on something else “Well, not mentioning everything. How was the performance?”

“Weren’t you there to see it yourself”

“I don’t know. I kind of blackout every time we go on stage” She made him laugh, but her face was dead serious.

“Wait really?”

“Kind of. I can remember it roughly I guess. Today there was so much to focus on that I’m not sure if I was entirely present. I banged my hip and didn't feel it at first for all things”

“Dude, same I guess. I need to lay down and get smushed by ten weighted blankets tonight” Kevin added hugging her on the other side and leading them to the couch.

… 3 days before Checkmate …

“The synchronization feels off” Eric spoke from the huddle of members watching the recording of their practice.

“Mae…” Q started, but before he could finish the girl spoke “Right arm higher. I got it”

“If you got it then why didn’t you do it right away” He turned playfully to her and poked her nose.

Massaging her back, the girl laughed and walked back to her spot next to Haknyeon. The boy dropped his bottle on the floor to help her out “Did you fall on your side?”

“No. I did trip while running from one side to the center, so maybe that was it” She shrugged looking around the room “Nobody is intact”

“Tell me about it” He pouted and called Sangyeon closer. “Hyung, maybe we should work on another part. We’ve been doing this section of the chorus for too long”

“Go talk to the captain, I’m not in charge of that” The leader laughed sending him towards Changmin, Juyeon, and Hyunjae talking to one of the choreographers.

“They would listen if you’re the one asking,” Mae said leaning on his side and Sangyeon nodded.

“Yeah, but I already came all the way over here. I don’t feel like walking back” Sangyeon chuckled, looking to the side where one of the staff members started calling his attention.

“We’ve got the costumes ready if you want to do a rehearsal with them” Looking up at the leader, Mae separated herself from him to run for the stylists while he went to call the other boys.

After the stylists helped her put on her clothes, one of them brought a box and quickly pulled her to the side “I know we’re not doing hair and makeup for today. But I’d figure it’s best for you to have it on for the rehearsal so we can make sure it won’t fall”

“Wow, is she getting a present?” Eric laughed approaching them and the stylist opened the box to reveal a thin black tiara to go along with her outfit.

“The crown itself is one of the props, so we had to make it subtle, but we couldn’t pass away the chance to represent the nickname you were given during the program,” She said helping her adjust the thing on her head and Mae walked to one of the mirrors.

“Wow, thank you so much Unnie,” The girl said checking herself out in the mirror “My face looks dead but damn this is pretty” She added making Eric and New, who also had joined them, laugh.

“You know, during a chess game, the Queen is one of the main pieces” She turned around to them holding a hand to her chest and a teasing expression “Thank goodness we didn’t go with a narrative that would give me that role because I’d crumble under the pressure”

“Only for the first week, then it would quickly get to your head” Chanhee scoffed patting her on the back and making her giggle. Eric chuckled as well and urged them outside “Let’s go work, so we can get Kingdom’s lost princess back to her place”

“Mock me as you want, I never asked for the nickname”

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jadethest0ne · 3 years

Text

In need of Refueling, Chapter 11 - Help

Summary: “You?! Why would I trust you? You have brought me nothing but failure. Time and time again; nothing but disappointment!”

His father’s words might have been a result of his possession by the White Bone Spirit, but whether or not they were his true thoughts, Red Son vows to prove them wrong. To do so he seeks to attain a power strong enough to destroy his father’s immortal enemy. After all, he’d much rather throw fire at his problems.

Word Count: 2173

Ratings/Warnings: Teen and up; injury, burns, angst and hurt/comfort, toxic thoughts caused by toxic parents, panic attacks, abuse

Notes: Time for Red Son and Sandy to have a talk

Credits: Big thanks to @painted-arachnid and @simplyfornardo for helping me bounce ideas off of them. And also thanks to @lemonsqueazie for providing me with “Journey to the West” lore. I don’t know much about the original novel or other iterations, but I still tried to keep some things compliant with the lore. You should check all of them out, since they’re really great content creators with neat ideas!

Read on AO3

———-

He must have passed out at some point because Red Son wakes up, finding himself still on the floor, leaning up against the bed. Pillows and blankets have been stuffed around him and a heater has been placed in the small space. The shivers he was experiencing earlier have quieted down to a low rumble beneath his skin, and he feels much more cozy.

There is a tray in front of him as well, with some more tea and a couple of bean buns on it. From the steam coming from the tea, he can tell it is still warm. The steam reminds him of his sudden lack of powers, and he sinks his nose down into the blankets, hitching his shoulders up to his ears in remembered embarrassment and shame. Not only is he injured, but without his powers he is utterly defenseless.

A gurgle from his stomach alerts him to how empty it is, and he eyes the tray once more. He weighs having to leave his little cocoon of warmth to eat, but ultimately decides that having something warm to eat and drink will satisfy both his hunger and his need for heat. The thought that they might be poisoned did cross his mind, but he logics that if the Blue One was going to kill him, he wouldn’t have bothered healing him first. No, there had to be another reason he was going through all this trouble.

Red Son worms his arm out from the blankets and reaches down to the tray, picking up a bun and sinking his teeth into the plump bread. It has the perfect texture - soft and pliant, but firm enough that there isn’t a hint of sogginess where it touches the sweet beans inside. The bean paste has a nice creamy texture to it, with grains of surgery goodness. A contented mumble purrs out of his mouth as he chews on the sweet treat. He gets through half a bun before his dry throat reminds him to slow down and drink something. He takes a sip of the tea, which has a pleasant bitterness to it, with a mixture of ginger and flowery fragrance balancing it out. The tea and the buns compliment each other nicely. Red Son couldn’t remember eating or drinking something with so much apparent care and flavor put into it in a long time. If the big guy’s snacks taste this good, he wonders vaguely what any meals he makes taste like. Not like Red Son intends to stick around very long to find out though. A part of him that he doesn’t want to listen to quite yet, wonders where he’d even go.

Instead, he turns his thoughts to his present circumstances. Where is that big guy anyway? There are still a few cats in the room, but true to the man’s warnings they stay away, eyeing Red Son cautiously. Chewing through the first bean bun, he picks up the second one and notices another two items on the tray - a bell and a note. The note says ‘Red Son: I hope you enjoy the tea and bean buns. Please ring the bell if you need assistance.’

Red Son rolls his eyes at this. Like he wants anything to do with an enemy. Then again, he did seem to care for his injuries and give him some (extremely tasty) tea and snacks. But why? Red Son still can’t figure that out. He huffs out an anxious breath and puts down the last half of the second bean bun, stomach now having been filled despite the small amount of food. He slowly nurses the rest of his tea as he contemplates the situation. Where would he go? What happened to his parents? Would they even want a now powerless demon like him around?

After staring out at space for a bit, getting distracted at nothing but the same questions rolling around in his brain, he notices that his tea has gotten a bit cold. His body is also really achy from sleeping on the floor the whole time. He tentatively stretches out his sore limbs as best he can despite the bandages. He contemplates the distance from the floor to the bed, and decides that he can totally get up there by himself. He struggles onto his knees, careful of his sore ankle, and puts a hand on the bed.

A meow distracts his progress. He looks down to see that blue cat with the tuft of fur that matches the big guy’s mohawk. It’s pawing at his leg and giving him a meaningful look.

“What’s wrong with you? Go away! I’m trying to do something!” Red Son swats at the cat.

The cat responds with more meowing.

“Pft, dumb loud cats,” Red Son grumbles as he tries to ignore the yowling, and shifts his body upwards. He wobbles on one leg, but keeps steady with his hand on the bed. Unfortunately, the bedding is too fluffy to give him sturdy enough leverage to help him up to it. He lurches forward trying to use the momentum to get him up, but instead finds himself doubled over in pain, as his ribs protest the movement. His leg gives a final wobble, and he slips back to the floor with a grunt. He muffles a yell of pain and frustration in the soft mattress.

“Are you all right?”

The loud, but somehow still soft voice causes Red Son to flinch back. He swallows another grunt of pain, in the form of a growl he throws at the Blue One who had appeared in the room. “Of course I’m not all right! I-- I…” He looks to the side unhappily. “I can’t get into the bed.”

“You could have asked for help,” the man says matter-of-factly. “I left a bell.” He smiles genuinely and points to the bell still on the tray.

“I don’t need your help.” Red Son grumbles.

The blue man blinks, then squats down to Red Son’s level, and tilts his eyebrows upward, as if trying his best to appear as small and non-threatening as can be. “It’s okay to ask for help, you know?”

With an eye-roll, Red Son huffs, “Well, I didn’t ask for your help.”

“Technically, you did,” the man points up a finger.

“Listen,” Red Son says ignoring that obvious falsehood. “I’ve been completely fine on my own before. I’ve never had to ask for help! I don’t know what you’re doing here by bandaging me up and stuff, but I’m not playing your game! I don’t need your help! I can do this myself if I just try a bit more!”

“I’m sure you can!”

Red Son gives him a rueful look at his placating tone.

The man’s eyes soften. “But you don’t have to.”

Red Son’s instinct would be to argue further, but there’s something just so darn honest about the man’s tone and a gentleness in his eyes. He mulled over the man’s words. He hadn’t thought of it that way.

The man speaks up again, his gentle demeanor not changing in the slightest. “Would you like to get in the bed?”

“Yes.”

“Can you get in the bed by yourself?”

“...Not… easily,” Red Son decides.

“Would it be easier and less painful if I helped you?”

“Yes.”

“Would it be okay if I helped you get in the bed?” The man holds out an offering hand, palm up.

Red Son looks between it and the man. He nods slowly.

“Okay!” The Blue One beams like Red Son just made his day.

Red Son grimaces and squints as if he is looking directly at the sun.

It ends up being much easier getting into bed with the man’s help. Red Son gets the feeling that the Blue One could’ve just picked him up and put him in bed. But he took care to allow Red Son to go through the motions of pulling himself up and shifting into a sitting position on the bed, as if he had done it on his own, and not that his entire weight was being supported by the Blue One. Red Son decides to not dwell on that fact, and tries to hold onto the last dregs of dignity he had left. Once in bed, the man moved the pillows and blankets back in place once again creating a warm cocoon for the demon to be nestled in. He also moved the heater closer to the bed, and brought him a new cup of warm tea.

A big part of Red Son hates all of this unnecessary pampering, but he was beginning to get very tired and cold again and he didn’t have the energy to fight back.

“Why did you help me?” Red Son asks finally.

“Like I said before, you asked me to!” the man says jovially.

“No, not the bed thing - why did you rescue me?”

“You asked me to do that, too!” Upon seeing Red Son’s disbelieving expression he says, “Well, technically, I don’t think you knew it was me you were asking - you were kind of out of it - and also maybe you don’t remember because of the whole shock, and cold, and being injured thing…” Red Son notes that the blue one really likes talking with his hands as they gesture about in his explanation. Either way, Red Son is not convinced.

“But why? This must be some sort of trick, or maybe a way to hold me hostage for-- you’re not going to try to use me as leverage for my parents, are you? Or-- what happened to my parents?! You haven’t captured them, too?!” Red Son’s voice starts pitching wildly, and he casts a highly suspicious gaze at the man.

“Woah, woah there! It’s not any of that!” The man holds up his hands in surrender. “MK was able to stop DBK. It’s… difficult to explain what happened, but you all were carried away by a, uh, flash flood…” Red Son quirks an incredulous eyebrow up at that. But the Blue One continues, “I happened to find you washed up on shore by my house boat. To be honest, I don’t know what happened to your parents. ” He shrugs apologetically, as Red Son’s eyebrows knit together at that revelation.

He mulls over the explanation. But something didn’t track right. “But I-- I attacked your friends. We’re… enemies! There’s… no way you would help me unless you had some sort of a plot.”

“Red Son,” the Blue One says, (again with that annoying, honest, gentle voice!). “I helped you because you asked, and I wanted to. No other reason than that. You are free to go and look for your parents whenever you want.”

Red Son sits there, confused. He considers himself very good at reading people. If this guy wanted to intimidate him and hold him hostage, he could easily do so through force, if his appearance is any indication of that. But instead he used everything in his power to appear not threatening. So either the Blue One was one of the best liars that Red Son had ever seen, or he was telling the truth. And he isn’t sure which explanation perplexed him more. Furthermore, if he was free to go and he did find his parents, would they even want him back? Maybe this was secretly a ruse to do so and find that they had actually disowned them. He would certainly deserve that after what he did…

Red Son shakes his head as if to rid himself of those thoughts. “How did you know my name?” he asks instead.

“I try to remember the names of everybody that I know.” The man gives a toothy smile, and points a thumb at himself. “My name’s Sandy, by the way!”

Red Son scrunches up his nose in what he hopes is convincing disgust and not embarrassment at not knowing an enemy’s name. “O-of course I knew that was your name, Blue One! I just don’t lower myself to using the names of peasants!” He tries to make a show of folding his arms, but it’s difficult when one is bandaged to his torso.

The Blue One laughs loud and heartily, which is not the reaction that Red Son wanted, but by now he supposes is the reaction he should expect from this impossibly happy man. “That’s fine! But please,” he places the tray with the bell on a table next to the bed. “Feel free to ask for assistance if you ever need it!”

Red Son grunts in response and buries his nose back under the covers, sinking into the cocoon of blankets. He realizes that he is still very tired and his eyes drift shut. He feels that he can maybe relax a little bit around the Blue On-- Sandy. Still, uncertainty about his parents and his powers bubble beneath the surface. Maybe it would be better if he stayed here. He couldn’t show his face to his parents. Not after all this.

start || <– previous // next –>

#lmk #lego monkie kid #in need of refueling #lmk fanfiction #lmk fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #red son #sandy #injury #help #hurt/comfort #recovery #my writing #jadethest0ne

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2manyfandoms2count · 3 years

Text

Sleepless in Paris

I ended up not posting anything Ladrien in June when I'd planned to do something, but then I saw the last prompt of @ladrienjune (Speechless), and since it tied in with an idea I had a couple of weeks ago... Here you go!

Established Ladrien, Adrien receives a text from his girlfriend and overthinks its meaning. Thankfully Ladybug comes and clears things up.

Loosely based on a quote from Le Discours, a novel by Fabrice Caro.

Read on AO3

---

Adrien, we need to talk.

Adrien read the message over and over again, like an overworked student stuck on a paragraph whose meaning just won’t register.

He tossed his phone aside and lied back down, rubbing his eyes as he did so.

Oh, how much he regretted ever getting Ladybug a private phone so they could communicate. It had seemed like a good idea after their third close call, when she had almost swung into his room like she owned the place (and maybe she did, she was his girlfriend, after all, anything was possible), in the middle of an impromptu piano recital his father had requested. Thankfully, the false notes he’d made upon seeing her almost crash into the window had covered any sound she’d made as she changed course, and made sure his father and Nathalie’s attention was on him, and not on the red blur just outside.

She’d laughed so prettily when she’d unwrapped the box and noticed that he’d painted little black dots on the back of the red phone case. She’d insisted on paying him back in kisses and sweet nothings. Even if he’d wanted to, he wouldn’t have been able to refuse; his girlfriend was convincing like that.

Yes. Those had been the good old days.

The ones when the messages he received from her didn’t come as a blow that made his stomach tie into knots and question if he was going to be okay (although that might not have been entirely true; the feeling he’d gotten when he’d read “I love you” on his screen, written down, not just whispered between two makeout sessions or before she left, a permanent trace of her feelings, could definitely have fit that description, but the difference was that he’d questioned if he was in heaven, then).

The timestamp of the message read Monday, 4:36pm. He’d managed to type a “when?” at 5:58pm, which she’d seen at 5:59pm. Nothing since. That was new, too. Even messages that didn’t require an answer always got at least a couple of emojis in reply.

It was now Tuesday, 6:12am, and he hadn’t slept a wink, dissecting the five words, twenty characters, like they were a long lost spell that could fix hunger on Earth.

The first thing he’d noticed was the full stop. That didn’t bode well - even he knew that nobody ended a text like that these days.

Then, the comma. A pause. Not great either, in the context of a relationship.

Especially when it came before a “we need to talk”. He didn’t need to have seen many romantic comedies to know that this was probably an end of the line warning.

Even his name was a sign.

Adrien.

Not “my prince”. Not “my love”. Not even “my Adrien”, like she’d taken to calling him recently. Just plain old boring Adrien . Until the message had arrived, he hadn’t realised they’d been on a downward slope, but maybe he’d been too busy burying his head in the sand to notice. Maybe deep down, he’d known that it wasn’t viable.

That Ladybug, basically a goddess among men, had no business being in a relationship with a commoner like him, however much she tried to fool herself by calling him her prince. Adrien. The more he read it, the more emphasis he put on the second syllable. Ad- rien . Ad rien. Towards nothing. Maybe she’d known they were doomed from the start, that they had no future, but she’d tried anyway.

Maybe he was reading too much into it and the lack of sleep was making him delirious.

Whatever the outcome, he supposed they’d had a good run. He’d cherish all of the moments they’d spent together.

Actually, he thought, sitting up again, maybe that was what she needed. Maybe he could change her mind if he reminded her of all their good memories. There was no way she couldn’t be convinced, or at least persuaded, by his plea. He hadn’t gone six months playing a double game of putting on a fake insensitivity mask over the one he wore with Chat Noir's to avoid her seeing through him, when she deserved to be showered in compliments at every moment of the day, for it to end this way.

He loved her.

He picked up his phone again and pressed the dial button.

One tone. Two tones. Three.

Adrien suddenly remembered the time, hastily hung up, and facepalmed audibly, making Plagg roll over in his sleep and hiss.

“Sorry,” he whispered, before turning his attention back to the phone.

If his call hadn’t woken her up, then his mistake would be the first thing she’d see when she did.

This was bad. It wasn’t like he could go delete the evidence. He didn’t know where she lived, and since he doubted that she slept while transformed, there was no way to track her. Which would also be bad, he reminded himself, but maybe this emergency would justify it.

Anyway, he couldn't cry over spilt milk, but maybe he could escape. Just move somewhere, preferably on the other side of the world. He could change his life, his name (actually, could that alone change the outcome of their relationship? If he changed it before planning anything, could they pick up as if nothing happened, and would the timeline be fixed? He wished he’d thought about it before calling her), and raise hamsters in the mountains. What he didn’t know couldn’t hurt him, right? And then he could live happily ever after in the sweet, sweet illusion that despite them being miles apart, he still lived in a world in which he was Ladybug’s boyfriend.

He didn’t know if he preferred the idea of her never coming after him, or her seeking him out, even if it was to deliver bad news, but it didn’t really matter. The plan sounded good. Foolproof.

He hopped off of his bed and pulled a suitcase out of his closet. He’d always wondered why his father stored them there when it really seemed like an unnecessary temptation, but at least it was useful now.

If he was to start over somewhere, he needed to leave Adrien behind. The guy was a train wreck anyway, but unfortunately for him, a train wreck people would want to find, when he just wanted to be left alone to mope.

No more white shirts, then. They were too recognisable. He found a collection of dark hoodies at the back of the closet and stuffed them in the bag, along with t-shirts (they’d be hidden under his hoodie so he could keep those), a pair of jeans and some shorts.

He came back into his room and put his suitcase on his bed, scanning his surroundings for other essentials. His eyes landed on the fencing cup he kept his Ladybug pictures in. He’d definitely need those. It would help maintain him in his illusion. He also needed his Ladybug pyjamas, which he kept hidden since he wasn’t sure his father would approve of them. They’d be perfect for his new life.

Plagg stirred on his pillow. Before Adrien could ask himself whether it was reasonable for the small god to come with him, there was a knock on the window, and he froze. He turned around slowly; Ladybug stood in the window frame, looking glorious in the soft dawn light. He noticed she was holding a small paper bag in her left hand. He was sure it could fit everything he’d ever gotten her.

“Going somewhere?” She frowned, hopping inside before he could even move.

Adrien stared at her, before guessing he’d better bite the bullet. “Well I just figured I’d rather not stick around if you’re going to break up with me.” He crossed his arms over his chest.

He watched her face fall and started to doubt his conclusion.

“Break up with…” she muttered slowly, as if tasting the words, before shaking her head. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Adrien, we need to talk.” He airquoted. “I get it, it’s fine. I’m-”

“Adrien, I’m not here to break up with you. At all.” She shook her head again and took a step forward. “What would make you think that?”

“Adrien, first of all,” he stated.

“Your name?...” She tilted her head inquisitively.

“You used to call me my Adrien. Or sweeter stuff.” He pointed out.

“Oh Kwami.” She shook her head, trying to repress a smile, although the blond didn’t notice.

“And then don’t think I didn’t notice you being less present lately.” He waved a finger at her, feeling himself blush. He knew his accusation was a tad hypocritical; sure, their date hangouts in the previous few weeks had been less frequent than they’d been at the beginning of their relationship, when she’d drop in practically every day, but they’d also been full of Akumas and photoshoots, what with his father’s new collection dropping. She’d managed to beat him to his room most days, hanging out around the windows as she waited, which had made it very difficult for him to sneak back in.

But on the occasions they had seen each other, she’d also seemed more lost in her thoughts than usual. Nervously wringing her hands together while they chilled in front of a movie, despite him soothingly raking his fingers through her hair. Being even more elusive about what was going on in her life, if that was possible. Looking at him with determination in her eyes, opening her mouth to speak, only to close it and shake her head with a sigh.

“I’m really sorry about that, my love .” She gave him a pointed look as she took his hand. “I’ve just been thinking a lot lately, about you, me, our relationship. How, you’re right, it might seem like we’re spending less time together to you , but…” she trailed off, biting her lip.

“How could that statement have a but ?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Well, um, I had this sort of crazy idea, because we’ve only been dating for six months and it’s totally not like I ever imagined us getting married and having three kids and a hamster or anything…” she mumbled nervously, and Adrien felt his heart flutter in his chest. “Anyway, I’ve been trying to get a hold of Chat Noir all night to check that he approves the idea, and also because I feel like it’s kind of an unspoken agreement that unless it’s an emergency and it really feels right, we’d do this together first, but he’s not replying and I was awake and you were awake and I thought…”

“Okay my… Lovebug, breathe.” Adrien’s caring boyfriend instinct kicked in as her rambling gave him confirmation that their relationship wasn’t in immediate danger, and he placed his hands on her shoulders, taking a deep breath to show the example. She mirrored him, and they breathed in sync for a couple of cycles, until he was satisfied that she’d stopped hyperventilating. He lead her to his couch and helped her sit down.

“Croissant?” she asked shyly, presenting him with the bag she’d brought. A pastry bag. Not a bag with his belongings. He really needed to stop jumping to conclusions.

“You know me so well.” He smiled brightly as he took one of the baked goods. They were still warm. The croissant didn’t last long in his hands. “Anyway,” he gulped down the last bite, “if you don’t mind me asking, what was your miraculous idea?” He smiled at himself, proud of his pun.

“Well, I was thinking that I could reveal my identity to you,” Ladybug replied, daintily wiping the corners of her mouth with a tissue.

It was a good thing Adrien was already sitting down, else more than his jaw would have ended up on the floor.

“Your… Your identity. Reveal. To me.” He asked seriously, hoping his words would make sense to her. It was better than remaining speechless.

“Yes, I am considering it,” she laughed. The sound made his brain tangle even more.

“Why?” He croaked.

“Well, as I said, it would enable us to spend more time together.” He raised his eyebrows, but she didn’t elaborate. “And I don’t know, I feel like it would be right. You’ve got something, Adrien.” She smiled tenderly.

“I… I do?” He felt himself blush.

“It’s just a croissant crumb, there, let me get it for you.” She leaned forwards and kissed the corner of his mouth. The contact jump started his brain.

“Ladybug, this is serious.” He backed away slightly. “Why me?”

“Fine.” She sighed. “Well, you're my boyfriend, but I know you a lot better than you might think. Before you say anything, no, I can’t tell you why yet, I need to speak to Chat Noir first. But there is something about you, Adrien. I feel like I can trust you. With this. Because of course I trust you otherwise.”

Adrien looked down at his hands and twiddled his thumbs, pouting as he thought.

“Adr- Sunshine? Is everything alright?” Ladybug placed a concerned hand on his thigh when his silence stretched to a slightly uncomfortable length.

“When you talk to Chat Noir, and he agrees to your plan…” He looked up and met her gaze.

“If,” she corrected him, but he waved her interruption away.

“...Will you guys reveal your identities to each other? Will you ask Chat Noir who he is under the mask?” He felt almost feverish as he searched her eyes for a hint of the answer before she could speak.

“Um, yes, I guess that’s how I saw the discussion going.” Ladybug frowned. “Are you concerned that it will change our relationship somehow? Because I promise it won’t, I-”

“Oh Bluebell, it definitely will, but not in the way that you think.” Adrien pecked her lips, a mischievous smile spreading on his as he pulled away.

“Oh?” Ladybug blinked a couple of times. Adrien tried to hide his smugness at her speechlessness.

“Yep. You see, I’m one hundred percent paw-sitive your dearest partner will agree to your plan.” He grinned, watching the realisation dawn on her face.

“How hard was refraining from making cat puns in the past six months?” Ladybug finally sighed, a small smile tugging at her lips.

“Very, my Lady.” He pouted. "But not as hard as refraining from kissing you on patrol."

“Maybe you can help him pay up all the Camembert he owes me for sitting through him ranting about all the missed opportunities,” Plagg called out, making her jump slightly. Adrien rolled his eyes.

“Anyway, you were right, your plan really will allow us to spend more time together!” His face lit up like a kid's on Christmas morning.

“You don’t know the half of it.” Ladybug shook her head, before looking back up at him, an indecipherable look on her face. “Need a lift for school?”

“That’s all you’ve got to say?” Adrien looked at his girlfriend with kitten eyes, disappointed that she hadn’t held up her side of the bargain.

“Well, it’s time to go if you don’t want to be caught by your bodyguard.” She shrugged, stood up, and extended a hand toward him, the twinkle in her eye the only tell in her poker face.

“Ladybug…” He whined, pouting.

“What, Chaton?” Her smile finally broke free. “It’s very literally on my way. I can drop you off at your seat, and then walk to mine… Right behind you.” She booped him on the nose.

Once again, Adrien was thankful he was already sitting down.

As she carried him to school, Adrien decided sleep was overrated. Sometimes reality was the best dream of all.

#ladrienjune #miraculous ladybug #the miraculous tales of ladybug and cat noir #mlb #miraculous fanfiction #miraculous fanfic #ladrien #ladybug #adrien agreste #day 30: speechless #identity reveal #established ladrien #elle writes

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rainywritingsx · 4 years

Text

scenario: Beelzebub & Asmodeus trying to get reader back

Request: wOAH your cheater head cannons were AMAZING dude!! if you want, could you write the rest of the brothers? or if that's too much could you do beel and asmo trying their hardest to get MC to forgive them but it just doesn't work and MC gets with someone else and it's super a n g s t y ?

ahh thank you so so much!! Seriously, to everyone who read that, I was so surprised by the response it received. I’m not very experienced with writing angst which is why I was actually terrified of posting it at all since I was worried I might’ve been too dramatic. But all of the positive feedback made me feel at ease, so thank you all so much for giving the scenarios this much love!

I only write for a maximum of 3 characters per request, I’m sorry :/ buuttt this means I will write part 2 for Asmo and Beel! Also you didn’t specify who this other person would be so,,, I decided to use one of the undateables, since I’ve been playing the game for a longer time now and kinda figured out their characters. Also,,,, the thought of MC ending up with one of the other brothers hurts me oof

++ I just noticed that I kinda went somewhere else with your request, I’m so sorry. I only realised this afterwards and well, throwing this away completely isn’t really what I want to do ;-; my dearest apologies, I’ll make sure to be more careful nex time. Now, have fun reading, I hope you’re still able to enjoy it despite the fact that I kind of changed it up a bit!

Total word count: 2498

Beelzebub

To say the demon was absolutely devastated, would be an understatement. His sadness had gotten to the point where his appetite was way less than usual, which did not go unnoticed by the other brothers. They all got worried about him.

It got to the point where Belphegor was fed up with it, which he made clear to his twin brother. They were now in their room, Beel was just staring at the wall without saying anything. His eyes were teary and his cheeks were puffy. The sight was heartbreaking, but Belphie was tired of this and worried, because it’s been at least a week since you two broke up and he hadn’t gotten any better. So he knew something had to change now.

“Beel, listen up,” Belphegor said, his voice low but sharp. Beelzebub looked at Belphegor, indicating that he could go on. “You can’t keep being like this. I get that you’re sad but this won’t get you anywhere. You miss y/n and want her back? Then you have to work for it. She’s not going to come back to you if you don’t even put effort into showing how sorry you are. Stupid humans aren’t that smart.”

Beel didn’t reply for a while, taking in his brother’s words. Belphegor let out an annoyed sigh before mumbling quietly “I’m gonna take a nap.” He didn’t wait for his twin brother to reply and soon dozed off into a deep slumber.

Beelzebub tried his best to concentrate, but his never-ending hunger seemed to be unbearable right now. He made the decision to go to the kitchen and find some food in the fridge to eat. However, even on his way to the kitchen Beel couldn’t stop thinking about Y/n. Since they had broken up with him, he had barely seem them. It seemed they either ate breakfast early as a way to avoid him and at school he barely had any chances to talk to them either. So how was he going to be able to apologise to them? He had to find a way to be with them alone. But what was he even going to do? What was he going to say? A small pout had formed on his face at this point as he looked through the fridge for something tasty.

Upon seeing his custard, his face lit up. And that was also the moment he realised what he could do for y/n. When they were still together, the two would hang out very often and there were so many times where they’d eat custard together, to the point where Beel did not eat it alone anymore. It showed how much he cared about them, as he didn’t share his custard that easily. It also felt like a thing the two of them had at this point. So when Beel grabbed the custard and devoured it, he felt empty. It was different now that he was eating it on his own.

He knew it. He was going to buy the two of them custard, ask y/n to hang out with him and if they don’t want to he will give them space. If they do want to however, he will give them the little surprise and talk to them. He just had to find the right moment. And while on one hand Beel wanted to wait, his heart told him to do it as soon as possible.

“Tomorrow it is, then.” he mumbled to himself.

The next day Beelzebub felt nervous. It had been a while since he talked to y/n and he had no idea how they were feeling right now. But he wouldn’t know unless he tried to find out, right?

So, after their classes, during lunch, he couldn’t take it anymore and tried looking for y/n. He was thinking they were maybe with Mammon, so he tried to find him. Though, when he did find his brother, he noticed he was alone.

“Lookin’ for Y/n?” Mammon asked. Beel almost slightly flinched at how sharp his tone was. It was clear that Mammon was angry at him for what he had done. Without saying a word he nodded.

“I think I saw them walkin’ somewhere with Asmo, towards his locker.” Beel nodded and quickly thanked his brother before leaving to find Y/n. He knew where Asmodeus’ locker was, or at least the area it was at so it wasn’t very difficult to find. When he found them a small smile played on his lips. However, as he took more and more steps forward, he saw that Asmo wasn’t the only one accompanying them. Solomon was there too. He had an arm wrapped around Y/n’s shoulder and laughed as he pressed a kiss to their cheek. Beel could feel his heart drop at the sight. He wasn’t expecting this at all and felt incredibly hurt.

Asmodeus somehow caught sight of his brother, and his eyes widened slightly when he saw his heartbroken standing there like a sad puppy who had just been kicked. Y/n and Solomon noticed their friend looking at something, so they turned their gaze into the direction he was facing. But before the two could see him, Beel quickly walked back.

“Asmo, is something wrong?” Y/n asked, their voice laced with concern. The demon was caught off guard by the question, not even realising he was staring but then smiled and nodded.

“Oh yes! I just suddenly remembered I forgot to close my purple nail polish jar in my room, I’m sure it’s all dried up now.”

“Oh that’s okay! How about we buy a new one after school? I have to get some stuff anyway. Solomon does too, right babe?” Y/n said and looked up at their boyfriend with a small smile. The boy nodded in agreement.

“Alright, sounds great!” Asmo nodded and smiled at the two. Soon his thoughts drifted back to his brother. While Asmodeus definitely did not think what he did was okay, he couldn’t help but feel bad for him. He was still his brother. Part of him wanted to check up on him but he felt like Beel probably needed time alone to process what he had seen.

In the meantime, Beelzebub was walking towards the cafeteria, shoulders hung low, gaze towards the ground and eyes filled with tears. Y/n had the right to move on, of course they did. He just wasn’t prepared to see it happening already. He felt like now there was no way of getting them back.

Of course Y/n would rather be with Solomon. He was a human just like them, they’d be able to live their regular life in their own world while also having a boyfriend. Of course they wouldn’t want a sinful demon like him. He decided to just give up. Maybe it was best for them both, or it was just best for Y/n. He wasn’t sure. But he knew they were happier with Solomon than with him. He saw a sparkle in their eyes, the one that had left when Y/n caught him cheating on them. Anyone that could make them that happy was worthy of being with them to Beel.

But if it was the right thing, why did it still hurt this much? The emptiness that he felt was bigger than any hunger he had felt in his entire life. But he had to accept it because at the end of the day, it was his own fault for making that horrible mistake.

Asmodeus

To any outsider, Asmo seemed completely fine, as if he wasn’t sad at all. But his brothers all knew it was the exact opposite. Asmodeus tried doing even more self care, went shopping even more than usual and spent an extra amount of times around succubi and witches. It was all to get Y/n off of his mind because as soon as soon as he would get to the house of Lamentation and had nothing to do, thoughts about them filled his head. Something in him wanted to find them and almost beg them to take him back, but there’s this other part of him that’s incredibly ashamed of himself.

And as mentioned before, his brothers could notice his change in mood. Though they condemned his actions, he was still their brother and they couldn’t just ignore him. Of course Asmo was going to make some very stupid mistakes with heavy consequences, but he would learn from those.

So at one point Satan made the decision to talk to his brother about the problem that hadn’t been talked about just yet. Satan knew Asmo regretted what he did and wanted Y/n back and he also knew that his brother was stuck on what to do now.

“How have you been, Asmo?” Satan asked as he entered his brother’s room after having knocked on the door. The younger demon quickly forced a smile as he looked at his brother, hoping that he would fall for his trick. But knowing Satan, it wouldn’t be long before he noticed Asmo’s facade. Still, he wanted to try.

“I’ve been doing great Satan! Oh, I bought some new makeup and accessories today and some would look lovely on you! Wanna try them on?”

“That does sound nice, but I need to talk to you about something right now.” Asmodeus could feel himself sulking as he knew where this conversation was heading. He also was aware of the fact that avoiding it would be pointless, so he decided not to protest and just nodded.

“We’ve all been worried about you Asmo. Of course I do know how you are, but we can all tell that something is off.” Asmodeus bit his lip as he averted his gaze, his eyes falling on a shirt that seemed to have fallon the ground. And of course, it was Y/n’s… They had probably left it here once and forgot to bring it back.

His brother’s eyes followed the direction in which he was looking, and he quickly realised what the piece of clothing was.

“Hey, how about you bring it back to them and talk about what happened?” Satan proposed. Asmo shook his head immediately, not wanting to be confronted with his disgusting actions again. He was already ashamed of what he had done.

“Satan, they will never forgive me. I hurt them so badly even though I never meant to. There is no way that this will be fixed.” Satan sighed softly and shook his head at his brother's words.

“But hey, you’re Asmodeus, aren’t you? Who can resist you? Who can not love you? Has anyone truly hated you for a long time?” He edged on, knowing that Asmo needed little confidence boosts like this. He knew these would cheer him up eventually, it just took some time and patience.

“Well there was a witch one time…. no nevermind she forgave me after 100 years so it ended up totally fine.” His brother chuckled and nodded.

“See? And on top of that, humans have a shorter lifespan, so I think everything will be okay soon. Y/n definitely loved you while you two were together and I find it hard to imagine that they have lost all of their feelings for you by now.” Satan could be right… After all, he was very smart, so he would not say something if he hadn’t thought about it or hadn’t put some logic to it. Perhaps he was right. Maybe trying to talk it out was a good idea. If they wouldn’t take him back, maybe they could still be at least friends. But first he had to find them of course.

“Do you happen to know if Y/n is here?” Asmo asked Satan, who pondered for a moment before replying.

“I think they went somewhere with Luke, Simeon and Mammon. They said they’d be back soon though.” Mammon too? That was an interesting combination. “Mammon went along because ‘a weak human and two angels aren’t safe here’” Asmo chuckled, yeah that does sound like Mammon and explains a lot.

“Well, I will be taking my leave now then. Tell me how it went later, okay?”

While Asmo waited for Y/n, he could slowly feel a slight feeling of anxiety creeping in. He hadn’t felt this way in a very long time. It scared him a little even. He always felt like he was in control in some way, since it was always people fawning over him, being nervous around him, but now it seemed to be the other way around. How could a mortal human have this influence on him? Maybe it was their presence, their uniqueness, he didn’t know. He couldn’t pinpoint what exactly it was.

However, he didn’t have more time to think about it now, because he heard the sound of a few voices in a conversation. Immediately his head perked up and he couldn’t help but smile when his eyes caught Y/n walking in his direction. That smile fell soon though, because then his gaze fell on the angel walking next to them. He was holding their hand as his eyes looked lovingly into theirs. He knew exactly what that look meant, and the fact that Y/n had a similar sparkle in their eyes said a lot.

Asmodeus felt defeated. He wasn’t expecting this and maybe that was why it hurt so much. The two radiated so much joy. It seemed like Y/n was completely healed from the pain Asmo had caused them. Soon his throat felt dry and his eyes quickly filled with tears. Before anyone noticed, Asmo quickly went to his room and locked the door before plopping down on his bed. He finally let out sobs which he tried to muffle by covering his hand with his mouth.

Why was he even crying? He was the one who hurt them. This was his fault, not theirs. He was the last person who was allowed to cry over this. But still, he couldn’t help but feel his heart crumble when he tried to process what he saw. They moved on. He messed up and now there was definitely no way that they were going to take him back. And he only had himself to blame for this mess.

#obey me x mc #obey me x reader #beelzebub x reader #asmodeus x reader #beelzebub x mc #asmodeus x mc #obey me scenarios #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me beelzebub #obey me asmodeus

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binniedeactivated · 4 years

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For the Time Being.| gyu💫(2)

╰─▸🖤❝ @[𝒃𝒖𝒈𝒔𝒃𝒊𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒚𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒈.. ]

✎𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: 𝒃𝒆𝒐𝒎𝒈𝒚𝒖 𝒙 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

✎ 𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒃𝒃𝒍𝒆¡

✎ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕; 2k

[@𝒃𝒖𝒈𝒔𝒃𝒊𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒆] 𝒉𝒂𝒔 𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒈𝒆𝒅 𝒐𝒇𝒇..

-ˏˋ🍧 “𝒎𝒂𝒚𝒃𝒆 𝒘𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒖𝒎–𝒇𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒕𝒆. 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘? 𝒂𝒕 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒔𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒐𝒇𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒂𝒔𝒔 𝒂 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆…”. ˎˊ-

“so, how much did you pay him?”. yara snarled to you as the game began wrapping up. your university team had won at a 15 point blow out. the game was really close and you had to say the team did an amazing job keeping their score up. and no, you weren’t staring at how happy beomgyu was celebrating with his team members, smiling and high fiving them out of pure triumph.

“she’s ignoring you on purpose yara”. rayne mentions grabbing her purse. you quickly snap out of it.”I’m not ignoring her. I don’t have to respond to her negativity all the time”.

yara smirks, “negativity? just admit you paid beomgyu to talk to you. and it’s a fucked up thing to do if you asked me. if a guy likes me I’d like him to like me naturally”.

“I didn’t pay him. he came up to me first”.

“so after you saw yara and rayne gushing over him you went away and came back with him holding your hand out of nowhere?”. sage questions skeptically.

“he said he wanted to walk me to my seat”. you mumbled.

“yeah ri--”.

“hey”. beomgyu interrupted just two steps away from you down the bleachers. he was looking directly at you as if your friends weren’t even there. a small smile flickered at the corner of his lips. you were surprised to even see him.

“hey beomgyu”. you greet sort of shyly, pathetically.

“it’s like a ritual after we win a game, all the guys just go out and celebrate whether it be alone or all together. I was wondering if you want to come maybe?”.

he looked so shy but he was looking at you confidently and you thought it was kind of cute. he was trying to be brave for you.

“if you don’t have any plans already”. he adds.

“no I don’t. I’ll come”. you agreed with a nodding head. the trio looked at you in disbelief, perhaps you paid him for this ordeal too.

“you played good tonight beomgyu”. rayne rushed to say, looking as desperate as possible. you made your way down the steps with the help of beomgyu who slid his hand into yours to help you. he nodded to rayne uttering a small thank you before he turned around to leave with you.

you had to say, that shit felt good to do.

the crowd was slowly spilling out of the doors and to make sure you didn’t get lost beomgyu was clutching your hand tightly. you hoped to god something embarrassing didn’t happen like your hand releasing waterfalls of sweat out of nowhere.

“so are we really going somewhere? or did you do that to save me from my bitchy friends?”.

beomgyu laughs a little, “maybe a little bit of both. did they believe you?”.

“they think I paid you to talk to me”. you admitted tossing in an eye roll for good measure.

“wow they really think you’re that incapable of getting a man?”.

“I guess so”. you murmured. beomgyu was tugging you until the both of you were finally out of the crowded and may you add, very humid gymnasium. the frigid night breeze felt like a breath of fresh air against your skin. you didn’t quite know where he was leading you until he was pulling a grey sports car passenger door open for you.

“after you madamè”. beomgyu says playfully, and roll your eyes and laugh at him because, well, he was an idiot.

you kind of felt like a rebel. normally, these kind of nights would consist of you and your friends getting something quick to eat, calling it a night and parting ways to go to your dorms. but now here you were, in choi beomgyu’s car riding along the beautiful dimly lit night streets with the wind sneaking trips through your hair.

the soft guitar melody of the indie music coarsed through the car, liturgical and heartfelt somehow making you feel as though you were in some scene out of a movie. except you knew you’d never be the main character in this kind of movie.

“so, you come here often?”. beomgyu questions jokingly while still clutching the steering wheel, the destination of you both still being a mystery to you.

“shut up beomgyu”. you laugh, “but if that’s your way of asking me my year and major, I’m a sophmore here. fashion design major”.

beomgyu nods in approval, “I can tell”.

you found that your occasional glance stealing of beomgyu became a full on heist at this point. how can someone be so attractive even behind a wheel?

“what’s that supposed to mean?”. you say playfully pretending to be offended.

“I mean, you dressed really nice to be going to just a game tonight. unless you had someone in mind”. beomgyu jokes once more.

you stifle the blush at your cheeks, “I didn’t, I’m nothing like my friends. I don’t dress to look good for guys, I do it for myself. I like looking and feeling beautiful”.

“with a face like yours you surely don’t need to dress up to look beautiful”. beomgyu mumbles under his breath, all of it sounding like nothing but mesh to your ears.

“huh?”.

“nothing. we’re here”.

you glance out of the front window to see this turquoise and pink colored, vintage looking diner. The vibrant blinking sign stood tall above it,

For the Time Being.

“after you madamè”. beomgyu says again opening the passenger door with his hand out. you take it regardless of his dorky remark. just because he was cute.

“where are your friends?”. you inquire, the diner being quite vacant with the exception of a few elderly couples here and there. you slide inside the sea green colored plush booth seat across from beomgyu.

“I don’t know, probably doing something else tonight”. he says casually before plucking up a menu and holding it just a little over his face. you smirk and tilt it down a little,

“I thought you said you and your friends hang out to celebrate?”.

“yeah you know--whether it be alone or all together”. beomgyu says way too quickly. he was getting so shy and timid, like a child when the meet santa claus for the first time.

“you’re neither alone or with them”.

“and maybe I lied”.

“why would you lie beomgyu?”.

because maybe I’m okay with celebrating even if it’s with you, beomgyu wanted to say. but he didn’t. instead it was the waiter who was saying anything, asking the both of you what drinks you’d like to start off with. the orders were given and the waiter quickly scurried off to fetch them.

“so I was thinking...”. beomgyu starts, “maybe you can post this stuff on snapchat or something to make it look real you know?”.

“I feel like if I post it I will seem, like desperate to them. It won’t look real at all”.

“why not? you can do that little thing girls do. you know the ‘On a date kind of nervous’ thing”. the both of you laugh at the idea.

“they’re going to think that I’m trying to flex if I do it. maybe you should do it. do you have them on snapchat?”.

“I’m not sure maybe I should check”. beomgyu mentions and pulls out his phone opening the snapchat app immediately.

the waiter diligently sits the beverages on the table in front of you, asking if you guys were ready to order. you settled on the idea of banana nut pancakes while beomgyu ordered a burger, fries and a strawberry milkshake. you wondered how he could be so skinny yet possess such a big appetite.

“I’m sure you do they practically stalk you on every social media platform there is”. you say with an eye roll.

“rayne, yara, and sage?”. beomgyu reads aloud. “yes that’s them”. at your confirmation, beomgyu presses the add back button on each of their names.

“so what are you going to post?”. you add, taking a sip of your lemonade.

beomgyu thinks for a split second before getting an idea. he slides his arm on the table. “here, put your hand in mine”. you steadily placed your hand on top of his and he angled his phone camera on them both. except he wasn’t quite satisfied at how hesitant your hand looked to be on his.

“can you hold my hand with more love please? sheesh. what are we? friends?”.

you laugh, snaking your fingers in between his. “fine then”.

“now look at me”.

your eyes immediately divert to beomgyu and he instantly starts making kissy faces and cooing at you like an idiot. you couldn’t help but to chuckle at his efforts. he quickly snaps the picture; a blurry POV picture, you were in the middle of laughing with your hands folded into his.

he posts it to his story with no hesitation.

but of course before he did that, he saved the picture to his phone.

just don’t tell anyone he did that.

“now we shall wait for their reactions”.

gratefully the food arrived to satisfy the hunger rumbling in your stomach. the pancakes looked and smelled delicious, maybe beomgyu was onto something by taking you here. you gave the waiter a small thank you before he went on his way.

“can I at least see the picture beomgyu? i want to know if it will make them jealous or not”.

“don’t worry it will”.

“how do I know?”.

“just trust me, it’s cute enough”. he assures squirting bucket loads of ketchup on his fries.

“if it’s cute enough then let me see”.

“you don’t need to see”. beomgyu laughs, he was really scared that you were going to tell him to delete it. he really loved the picture.

“please?”. you beg, beomgyu bit the inside of his cheeks.

“give me a piece of your pancake and I’ll let you see”.

“fine” you agree, cutting a perfect square. beomgyu opens his mouth. “ah!”. you roll your eyes airily and shoved a forkful in his mouth. he munches with his mouth full.

“now show me”.

“no you can’t make me”. he retorted and quickly hid his phone underneath himself. much too fast for you to see anyway. you looked under the table to see if he hid it there.

you wanted to look serious but the smile on your face said otherwise. “beomgyu i’m serious let me see the phone”.

“for what it’s just a picture”. he shrugged off biting into a fry. your eyes cut him down to size and you decided to make your way to his side of the table instead, towering over him for once.

“let me see”.

“you’d have to find my phone first”. he laughs. you realized the table and the seat was pretty vacant so there was only one place it would have to be. you start reaching underneath his lap and he’s trying his best to grab it making sure it was out of reach for you. as hard as you tried the both of you became a tangled mess with you unintentionally falling on top of beomgyu in the name of phone stealing.

he’s was busy laughing at your failure of retrieving it until you pick your head up and the both of your eyes lock; he realized you were straddling him. he immediately became turmoil on the inside.

#txt #txt fluff #beomgyu #beomgyu fluff #fake dating trope #tropes

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imnotwolverine · 4 years

Text

Nerdflirt

Henry Cavill x reader twoshot (1/2)

Word count: 2.768

Disclaimer: tiny, tiny hint of fluff

Summary: There’s apparently a bit more involved than just paint and innocent flirting, when you meet a stranger on Instagram with a shared hobby.

Find the second part here.

This story is based on a prompt I received from @aestheticqueenb

(Link to my Masterlist)

‘Maybe, you can like…I don’t know…find some new hobby or something?’

Your friend had said it more as an after thought during your Zoom chat, but here you were. Thinking yet again if she was perhaps right. A new hobby. It’s not like you hadn’t tried to find some diversion in these strange times. Like. You had ordered some of these picture paint books for adults since they were all the rage, but you had grown bored of them again.

Heck. You had even asked your boss if you could help him out while stuck at home. But apparently the restaurant business was really on its ass and you’d just have to wait for things to settle down and regulations to become less restricting.

This whole COVID-19 thing had initially seemed like a bit of a fad. Like some sick joke that nobody stopped at the right time. It was just a fever, right? Well, apparently…it wasn’t. You could still remember the moment all too well when you were sent home, told to wait for news. Hours passed. Days passed. Weeks passed. But there was no sign of things soon to improve.

And thus you resorted to adult colouring books and sulking away on your desk chair.

Stretching out you pushed the chair away from your desk, the tiny wheels immediately halting as you bumped against your bed. Oh yes, it was also good to mention you were slowly losing your mind because your studio apartment was SOO friggin’ small you couldn’t stretch as much as a foot without bumping into a piece of furniture.

Not a problem when you have a social life. But very much a problem when you hadn’t. Usually you worked a lot, went out with friends, enjoyed to go for a run. And home? Home was just a conveniently placed bed in the middle of London.

Now, however, it was a constricting prison that seemed to strip away your sanity piece by piece.

As had become second nature by now you opened your phone, fingers automatically refreshing the front news page. Scroll, scroll, scroll. No new news. Then your e-mail. No new e-mails. Then perhaps look for some “inspiration” - whatever you needed that for - on Pinterest? Scroll, scroll, scroll. Okay, no, this is dumb. Going back to the mainscreen your thumb hovered over the Instagram button.

You honestly didn’t like the app much. Fake people. Fake fun lives. It just wasn’t your cuppa tea. And yet you never got so far as deleting it since you did enjoy seeing baby pictures of your baby niece.

Okay, fine, maybe there were some new pictures or something. It wasn’t like you had anything better to do and so you opened the app, only to be confronted with a somewhat confusing image. What’s this? A large pair of hands painting an absolutely tiny polystyrene figurine. Why is this on your timeline? Your eyes gazed up, even more confused when you read the name “Henry Cavill” above it. Pfft. Probably some attention whoring from another bored superstar. You shook your head and scrolled on, eventually giving up again.

You groaned, feeling the abyss of utter boredom suck you in once more, your eyes wandering to the world outside. It was sunny, a spotless blue sky, not a cloud in sight. Hilarious, ain’t it? It’s nice weather out in the UK and guess what? You’re stuck inside because the whole world is in lockdown.

So…now what? You just had lunch, your apartment was pristinely clean and you already went for a run this morning. You sighed and turned your chair back so you could awaken your trusty old friend again. Your laptop. Perhaps Google something random? See what you find? The internet’s your friend, right?

Open. Google.

You bit your lip, thinking of something. Anything. But your mind was a blank.

Hmm. Oh. You know what. Maybe it’d be fun to know what kind of fake nerd Henry Cavill actually was.

You opened Instagram again and, of course, his post was back on the top of the timeline. It was almost too easy. #GamesWorkshop #ProperGeek #Custodes. Hmm, probably one of those three tags were the secret. You decided to enter “custodes”, since it sounded the least familiar and hit enter.

Before long you had dived head first into the miraculous world of Warhammer miniature strategy boardgaming and the most ludicrous, but fascinating lore. There was a medieval variant, a sci-fi variant and some ancient Rome and English civil war stuff. All including a well-thought out background story and even more figurines then you could count. Pretty cool figures too, you thought, haphazardly clicking on “order” while scrolling through one of the webshops.

Like it contained some kind of bomb, the mailman sprinted off, leaving the small package behind while you opened your door. Fuck this corona crisis. You couldn’t even..greet the fucking mailman.

Picking up the package you carefully moved it to your desk. Would they be fragile? How tiny could tiny really be? There was only one way to find out, you decided, picking up a pair of scissors and cutting open the small brown box.

Well. Okay. That’s tiny. Tiny tiny tiny. Perhaps you had been a bit too over enthusiastic about just randomly picking up a new hobby. Like..did you even need like special paint for this? Carefully you placed the kit sheets with the hundreds of tiny pieces in them on your desk and bit your lip, deciding what you’d do next. Tiny heads, guns, wings, all stuck in a meticulously thought out grid. Where to start? Perhaps look for some inspiration? Tips and tricks?

The internet is your friend.

Silly as it was you ended up scrolling through Instagram again, this time on the profile of some “SirEltharin” who posted daily updates on his miniature painting. And just like you, he had bought the Retributor Squad from the Adepta Sororitas, the all-female fighter division that were also known as “The Sisters of Battle”. Just thinking how ridiculous that sounded made you chuckle. Were you a nerd too now? Perhaps.

He just posted something new you noticed.

‘These ladies are hard to tame! Oops, painting accident..’ He posted, along with a picture of some smudged paint on one of the figurines. You chuckled, commenting without much of a second thought.

LadyGrim - ‘Well at least you started..I just can’t get myself to paint :X’ - 1 minute ago SirEltharin - ‘No need to be Grim, good Lady. What’s keeping you from starting?’ - 2 seconds ago

Hmm. He responded immediately. A smile reached the corners of your lips as you shrugged and typed again.

LadyGrim - ‘Painters limbo? No honestly it’s my first set and I’m out of my depth here.’ - 2 minutes ago

SirEltharin - ‘Well if large male hands can do it. Surely a Lady can do it too? ;)’ - 30 seconds ago

LadyGrim - ‘Size can be deceiving.’ - 2 seconds ago

Your eyes rested on the screen for a bit, hoping he’d respond, but eventually giving up. Your eyes turned towards the sheets with the figurine parts on the other side of your desk.

Welp, it’s not like anyone could judge you for trying, right?

You painted that whole day, finding it nerve wrecking and meditative all at the same time. You hadn’t even noticed that it was past dinner time, until your stomach really started to growl with hunger.

After cooking yourself a simple pasta dish you sat back on your desk chair, forking the pasta into your mouth while opening your phone to check on any news updates. No news. Mail. No mail. Pinterest? Skip. Instagram. Heck, why not.

*New message from SirEltharin* Hmm. A private message. You didn’t even know that you could send private messages in Instagram, but alas, perhaps you were just a failed millennial.

SirEltharin - ‘Hey :) Guess what? I totally screwed up that figurine and have to do it all over again. Started any painting yet?’ - 2 hours ago

LadyGrim - ‘Perhaps you gave me all your good luck? Just started and..maybe..it actually starts to look pretty cool?’ - 2 minutes ago

SirEltharin - ‘Which one did you start with?’ - 2 seconds ago

Damn, guess it wasn’t just you who was bored to bits. This guy was one fast responder.

LadyGrim - ‘The one with the book? At least, I think…. So many parts..’

SirEltharin - ‘Yea. Requires a bit of strategising hehe. Besides..holy fervour and good faith!’

LadyGrim - ‘So why did you chose the sisters? You’re a guy right?’

SirEltharin - ‘And that’s a problem? ;)’

LadyGrim - ‘No..’

SirEltharin - ‘Honestly though. They’re cool. Strong women.’

LadyGrim - ‘Who got betrayed by the man they promised to serve.’

SirEltharin - ‘Ah you read the lore? Yea..men are dicks haha ;)’

LadyGrim - ‘Can’t agree more.’

You back and forthed throughout the evening. Starting off with some Warhammer 40k related banter, but soon drifting off to talking about the Corona lockdown and the boredom that came with it. SirEltharin didn’t let off a whole lot about himself, which made your imagination run a little wild.

Perhaps it was this “milady” type of guy, that’d tip his hat at you, then grow annoyed as soon as you didn’t immediately fall in love with him. Or, maybe it was this skinny pimple-faced guy who only ever played female characters in games. Or a really, really fat guy. He did say large male hands. Large…could be fat? Or at least chubby? Ugh. What did it matter anyways. Men, you had decided, were always going to disappoint.

SirEltharin - ‘Hey, just curious by the way. Why did YOU decide to start painting?’

LadyGrim - ‘Are you asking just because I’m a girl? ;)’

SirEltharin - ‘Hardly. What do you even think of me?! ;)’

LadyGrim - ‘Okay. Don’t call me an idiot. But this movie star, Henry Cavill? He posted an image and though I absolutely think he’s one of those fake nerd celebrities who are in it for the attention, it did get me interested in the figurines..so..I just ordered and..here I am!’

He stopped responding after that. For the rest of the night. Did you say something wrong or did he just not see your message? Ah..whatever. It didn’t really matter. He was just some stranger on the internet. You started Netflix and crawled onto your bed, wasting away another evening bingewatching How I Met Your Mother.

The next morning he had responded again. Around 5 am. Damn. Nerds ARE night owls, you thought, sipping your freshly brewn cup of french pressed coffee while leaning against your tiny kitchen block.

SirEltharin - ‘Can’t really say that without knowing him, right?’ - 3 hours ago

SirEltharin - ‘Anything in particular wrong with Henry Cavill?’ - 2 hours ago

LadyGrim - ‘Woa woa. No harm meant. Sorry. Guess I just don’t trust ‘em pretty boys?’ - 3 minutes ago

SirEltharin - ‘How’s that so? And good morning, Lady ;)’ - 2 seconds ago

You bit your lip and let out a deep sigh. Oh this man didn’t know what hellfire could come his way, opening THAT topic.

LadyGrim - ‘Good morning ..and..I doubt you’d be interested.’

SirEltharin - ‘You had my curiosity, but now you have my attention.’

LadyGrim - ‘Fine. Let’s just keep it plain and simple. Lied to, cheated on and continuously disappointed. Guess I’ll just have to become a lesbian?’

SirEltharin - ‘Don’t let a few bad ones ruin it for the rest of us. Has it been long?’

LadyGrim - ‘Long?’

SirEltharin - ‘Apologies. I mean. Since you last dated?’

LadyGrim - ‘A year or so.’

SirEltharin - ‘And how old are you? Or am I being too bold asking such a thing?’

LadyGrim - ‘It’s fine. Thirty. Had my birthday two weeks ago. So yea..becoming a bit of an old spinster hehe.’

SirEltharin - ‘Belated happy birthday and..hardly a spinster, right? I mean. I’m 37 and haven’t found anyone yet. Heck. I guess I’m the old spinster here haha.’

LadyGrim - ‘I doubt the same rules apply for men.’

SirEltharin - ‘Trust me. We are all judged.’

Weeks passed and you and Sir kinda started to really get to know each other. You both lived in London - how practical -, were pretty enthused about sports, liked dogs (he had one, you wished you had one) and were close knit with your family. You with your sister, who already had a few kids. And he with his brothers. All with kids. Teasingly you donned each other the nicknames ‘Uncle and Aunty Spinster’.

You knew he had looked on your account. Seen some pictures of you. Even made a few comments on them and liked everything new you posted. But he, SirEltharin, remained mostly a mystery. You tried to talk yourself out of your curiosity, but couldn’t help but lay in bed fantasising about him. The only body part you had seen of him to this point were his hands, and they were actually quite pretty hands. Well manicured nails, strong fingers. It meant he probably wasn’t SUPER fat. So. That’s something.

Eventually the COVID-19 related regulations were becoming less restrictive and for the first time in months you could go back to work. The very news had made you both reluctant - you liked this new rhythm of painting and chatting with SirEltharin -, but also happy. Finally getting out of your tiny apartment, finally getting back to work. It may require some getting used to again, but this was just what you really needed.

In your enthusiasm you posted a picture on Instagram of your work outfit as it lay neatly spread out on your bed sheets. Your boss had made some quirky shirts to celebrate the reopening of the restaurant: “Brunello’s back” was written in fancy white lettering on the back of the shirt. You giggled as SirEltharin liked it within a split second.

SirEltharin - ‘Back to work hmm?’

LadyGrim - ‘Yep. Its all fun and games until the rat race starts again.’

SirEltharin - ‘Sounds Grim ;)’

LadyGrim - ‘You know me too well Sir. Anyways gotta go. Bye!’

SirEltharin - ‘See ya.’

See ya. You always thought it weird when strangers said that at the end of an online chat. Clients sometimes said it at the end of a phone reservation. That was understandable though; they were to come to the restaurant. But complete strangers? There was no such thing as “seeing you around”. However in the case of SirEltharin you were willing to let it slip. He probably didn’t think anything of it.

For a first night it was already quite hectic at Brunello’s. The room, although still far less bustling than usual, was filled. People were obviously eager to pick up their social lives again, the animated chatter of guests zooming around the room while you paced past the neatly spaced white clothed tables. Brunello’s was a rather luxurious restaurant and mostly businessmen and well-to-do families and friends came here to wine and dine. Tonight was special though, as a few celebrities were sitting in the far corner. Including a familiar face: Mr. Cavill, your eyes immediately falling on him as he seemingly was giving you a questioning look.

Perhaps he just wanted to order some drinks, you thought, halting next to the table and offering them your most kind, professional smile - ignoring the curious pair of blue eyes that tracked your every move.

‘Good evening and welcome to Brunello’s. Is there anything I can help you with?’ You spoke, the sentence fluently tipping of your tongue, your eyes wandering slowly over the guests. Most of them were unfamiliar to you. And Mr. Cavill..you tried to just not give him any attention as he was still burning his eyes into you.

‘We actually could use some advice on the wine. We’d like to start white, slightly fruity, perhaps French? Though the Italian one also sounds quite nice.’ A small blonde woman spoke, peering over her menu card.

As this was not your expertise, you called for the sommelier, stepping back to make room for him. And all the while you felt those eyes, gazing at you, almost brazenly. What was up with this Mr. Cavill? Or did you maybe have something funny on your face and did nobody dare to tell you? Shyly you excused yourself, leaving the guests in the capable hands of the sommelier, and quickly made for the women’s bathroom to check your face.

There was nothing out of sort when you looked into the mirror. Strange.

Peeking quickly on your phone, a habit when you were alone, you noticed a new message popping up on your Insta-chat.

SirEltharin - ‘I think we need to talk.’ - 30 seconds ago

Go to part 2

#henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fluff #warhammer 40k #figurine #miniature #painting #henry cavill x reader #secretcelebrity #undercover #nerdflirt #instagram #retributors #adepta sororitas

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