#a meaty chapter compared to last one

[myth-of-light]

Sorry to bother you a second time with an ask(none of my friends know kid Icarus so I got no one to talk to about)

But when hades pokes fun at pits inability to fly palutena states “his wings just don’t work right”

I googled “wing deformities” and the first thing that came up was angel wing, a deformity where rapid wing development causes the wing to outgrow proper bone support, causing the wing to bend out at an unnatural angle and a permanent inability to fly

And what’s it caused by?

An unhealthy diet of rich protein and carbohydrates.

And we know pit loves food. Specifically things like sweets and fast food, based on his distaste for veggies as stated in Palutenas Revolting Dinner

I rest my case

Well apologies, but I am going to challenge your case! A year late! (I am always happy to receive ask dw)

And if anyone notices mistakes below please comment! espically with formatting.

Angel Wing Syndrome

Angel Wing Syndrome is a deformity that effects aquatic birds, such as ducks and geese. Angels, like Pit, are typically inspired by the Dove and other birds that are typically non-aquatic birds. But let's say Pit is a swan or something, this still doesn't fit.

Angel Wing Syndrome also limits or completely restricts a bird from flying, which isn't the case for Pit, he can flap/glide on his own and with assistance from the Gods, can fly. If he had Angel Wing Syndrome he would mostly likely not be able to fly at all.

Not to matter that was make Angel Wing Syndrome so recognisable it the physical deformity is has on the bird. Having vitals feathers pulled to the rear. Pit clearly does not have this.

Though I will agree Pit doesn't have the best diet.

There are 10 possible food to have for health, this includes:

Fruits: apples, melons, grapes,

Meaty Foods: meat, hamburgers, sushi

Junk food: cakes, ice cream, doughnuts, bars of chocolate.

There is no vegetables! Unless you count anything in the burger haha.

But this ask did make me wonder, why can't Pit fly? And if there is any evidence in game to why.

I seem to find in an answer in by comparing when Pit can fly vs when he cannot.

Pit's Wings

In the original game he looks like this (oh gods the quality I apologise)

His wings go along his upper back, though pretty small right? Only reaching the neck when stretched out.

But now look at him with the Wings of Pegasus, they reach his head. Now while this could just be a visual to show the Pegasus' Wings Superiority, but perhaps Pit's wings aren't big enough to carry his weight.

But before I came to a conclusion, I looked at Uprising

First two (top layer) are Pit's wings normally where as the last two (bottem) layer is when the Miracle of Flight is activated. It may be hard to see but his wings are bigger when the Miracle of Flight is activated. You can see this when Pit jumps out at the start of a chapter, but can also see this in the cutscene in Ring of Chaos , when Viridi activated Flight.

You can see his wings grow. As seen in the images below and at the beginning of the clip.

I also looked at the pegasus wings for Uprising, but they are turned off because of potential unreliability, according to Palutenas(see image one below), hence they aren't any bigger than normal miracle of flight(image two below).

Note: when Pit is extracted from battle his wings do not change. (image three below)

So when Miracle of Flight is activated, Pit's wings grow? It that just a special detail or does Pit need bigger wings?

Dark Pit's Wings

To figure this out we can also use Dark pit for when he gets Pandora Power.

Pre-Pandora, his wings are similar to Pit's(see first image), but when he gets Pandora they almost double in size (see second image), you can really feel the difference.

But what is fascinating, is that when you fight him again, his wings are back to the average size (see third image). At first I thought this was an inconsistency, but no, as after the battle he seems to activate his wings, become big again (see fourth image).

Dark pit doesn't gain/have better wings, he gains power to activate his own infinite Miracle of Flight, which also make his wings bigger. He seems to prefer smaller wings for flighting (as they probably make them both lighter on their feet).

This makes me think that the Pits don't have big enough (or at the very least strong enough) wings to carry them. So the Miracle of Flight acts as an aid that give them these things while in flight (as Dark pit chooses to deactivated on the ground).

This is probably the answer.

(more speculation below)

But if that is the case, the biggest question is

Why does Pit's Wings Burn/Why is there a limit to the Miracle of Flight?

This part now is just speculation. (Also I am ignoring the last scene of 15min flying for this post, as I just think it's just a credit thing.)

Is seems that if the Miracle of Flight is used for too long Pit gets burnout both metaphorically and physically, his wings catch aflame due to the limit. So why is there a limit, and why does Dark Pit not have it?

The only difference between Pit and Dark Pit is how they gain their miracle of flight.

Dark Pit absorbed Pandora's power, making it his own. Therefore the power he uses to fly is (temporary) his own that he can control and regulate. Whereas Pit has someone else acting upon him, gods for that matter. Who cannot regulate their power being exerted upon him as well as Dark Pit can on himself.

I think it's the different between external vs internal regulation that is the difference between Pit and Dark Pit here. Dark Pit can know exactly how much power/usage he needs for flight whereas the gods made be just shoving a bunch of power in Pit's wings, not knowing how to regulate it correctly to Pit's needs. For the Miracle of Flight to be safe and unlimited, Pit has to be the one giving power to his wings.

But in order to get that power he has to steal it, which has been shown to be unsustainable as Pandora lived on in Dark Pit's wings. Not only that but it had to be all of Pandora's power, who was a goddess. So I don't think Palutena can simply give this power to Pit, as is has to be the power of an entire deity, but if you absorb that power, the deity lives on. While the circumstances of Pandora's revival were rare, there no certain way to know that there isn't other ways an absorbed deity can get their power back.

This makes in unlikely that Pit could one day fly on his own indefinitely. Though can offer explanation on why Dark Pit can fly. But alas, this part is more speculative than the other (hence under the cut). But it is interesting to think about.

Thanks for the ask!

[enm-enthusiast]

The Exhibitionists Club Ch. 4 - Jack Part 2

Last chapter we saw Jack witness the preliminary wrestling match between his colleagues Daniel and Roderick, in which Daniel surprisingly came out the victor, but now before both of their cocks were put on display in front of the entire crowd. Now, Jack has to face his own boss, Henry in a strip wrestling match, can he emerge victorious and get through his initiation unscathed? Or will he end up a naked loser?...

Jack

I swallowed the growing pit in my throat as I followed Henry up on the stage, and as I did I took the chance to size my boss up. He wasn’t as tall as me, standing at 5’10 compared to my 6’2 but he was bulkier, his thighs and arm muscles far exceeded my own and from the stories I had heard around the office he knew how to use them. His casual clothes couldn’t hide his rather impressive glutes, either, and I couldn’t help but admire his toned and meaty globes attached to his backside. His graying dirty blonde hair was cut short, and had recently shaved his neat, handsome face, his piercing hazel eyes turned to look at me and flash a dazzling, knowing wink and a smile before taking the final steps up on stage.

I followed him up, the bright lights flooding my vision and making me temporarily squint as my eyes adjusted from the darkness of the crowd. Ian greeted us as he did Daniel and Rod, we introduced ourselves to him, afterwards he turned back to the crowd and said “There you have it gents, our next two volunteers! And may I say what hunks, am I right?” He said.

Many from the crowd voiced their agreement and I thought I heard one even say: “Tear his clothes off, blondie!” and I felt my face flush from heat as I knew who they were referring to.

“Let’s wait and see who rips off whose clothes first, shall we? Now, to repeat, there is no biting, kicking, or low blows to sensitive areas, either of you get caught doing this by me or security and we will remove you from the premises, right?” He said, matter of fact. Both me and Henry nodded our heads and Ian waved us down to the ring and we separated to take opposing spots with me on the left and Henry on the right.

“And remember! First one to lose all his clothes will lose the match, and you can either keep or return the loser's underwear, and with that, let’s get this show on the road!” Ian finished and me and Henry both took our socks and shoes off, taking our first careful steps inside the oil-slicked ring.

I was wearing casual navy blue shorts, a red shirt, and a red and black jockstrap underneath it all…I told myself that my opponent would be someone I could handle enough that I wouldn’t lose more than my shirt. True enough, if anyone else BUT Henry had been chosen to wrestle me my victory was guaranteed, no doubt it's why he's my opponent.

Henry himself was wearing black cargo shorts and a black tank top, showing off his muscled arms which threatened to put me in a hold I’d never escape from if he managed it. We began sizing each other up in the precious few seconds we had before Ian started his countdown to begin. My best chance was to evade being grappled by his arms and focus on his legs which would slow him down. I’d go for his tank top first, the straps were an easy target that wouldn’t be an issue for me to simply rip off of him. 

“1!” Ian shouted, his countdown had begun.

I spread my legs open and crouched, storing energy in my legs in case I got the opportunity to pounce and wrap my legs around him. 

“2!”

Henry moved his arms up in a defensive position, which made me think he was either preparing for a straight up attack or was feinting and trying to catch me off-guard. 

“3!”

The match had begun, and true enough he was feinting, because I didn’t move first, instead he lunged at me like lightning after the first few seconds had passed. My eyes widened and I moved to sidestep him but he reached his arm out which managed to grab right onto my left hand and he pulled me along with him.

I pried my hand from his grasp and moved before he could, he was against the edge of the ring and so I wrapped my legs around his waist and hooked my arms underneath his and pulled upwards. Within the first minute I managed to get him firmly pinned.

“Fuck…your quicker than I thought” Henry said, his voice hoarse from the breath being knocked out of him.

“Maybe you're just getting slow, old man,” I said, my smile widening. I noticed my crotch was pressed into his lower back, right against his firm ass. As soon as I realized, I could feel my cock start to respond and I cursed myself silently as the more I restrained Henry the more his ass pressed upwards onto my crotch.

My bulge was growing as I could feel his glutes rubbing up against me, despite the layers of fabric in between. Henry tried to free an arm and I responded by lifting Henry up further which as soon as I did it, I knew it was a mistake.

I landed his backside right in the middle of my crotch, my shaft was even rising in a way that nestled itself between his cheeks and at the contact I couldn’t help but bite my lip and said “Fucckkkk” under my breath.

Henry, damn him, heard me and even from this angle I saw a smile split his face. “What’s the matter, tough guy? Is all this muscle too much for you? Or are you just happy to see me” He said and I could tell he had noticed something poking at his ass and my expression of arousal had only confirmed his suspicions. 

I didn’t answer, but even while restrained he could still slightly move and so he took it upon himself to sway his ass from side to side, effectively grinding his ass against my quickly growing cock.

I sucked in a breath as the contact only made my cock grow to full mast inside my shorts and jockstrap. I felt my head swirl with lust as I wanted to completely tear off Henry’s clothes and bend him over and fuck him senseless but I had to focus, I had to keep him pinned so I could rip off his tank top. I managed to clear my head at least for a moment so I had to act fast because as soon as one of his arms was free it would only be a few seconds before he broke away completely.

As Henry continued grinding against me, I counted down internally and as soon as I hit 5 I once again lifted Henry up, bending his back and while he was distracted I let go of his left arm and immediately grabbed ahold of the left strap of his tank top and Henry was beginning to realize what I was doing.

I tightened my grip, released my legs around his waist, and whilst pushing my legs away while still holding onto his left strap…

RIIIIIIPPPPPP

I lunged away but half his tank top came with me, the rest was in shreds around him and was now stripped to his waist, and the crowd cheered as I lifted up the garment in a momentary victory and threw it into the crowd. Henry turned to face me, now bare-chested and as I always suspected was quite hairy but still very well built and stocky. His torso was already beginning to glisten from the oil, because as soon as I had jumped away he had landed on the ground, and it only accentuated his large male pecs which rippled with muscle as he instinctively flexed them as he ripped away the remaining shreds of his shirt.

The movement stirred something in me, his large dominating figure awakened something primal, and I felt an equal urge to both break and bend his ass over for me…and for him to utterly pound me into submission. My cock twitched in response as it continued to throb, still imprisoned within my jockstrap. 

“I see you haven’t lost your edge, it’s too bad though…playtime’s over” Henry said, his eyes locked onto mine and the look in them sent a tingle down my spine, and a chilling dread in the pit of my stomach. His expression wasn’t one of rage or amusement like it was before, no, his face was stone-cold and determined, and it both frightened and turned me on at the same time.

He readied himself, arms up in defense and I matched his movements in quick succession. We then circled one another as we slowly traversed the floor of the ring on our knees, each waiting for a sign of weakness, and it wasn’t until someone in the crowd nearby coughed that Henry made his move. 

He lunged forward and so did I, and our palms slammed into each other, the force of which had me slide backwards a few feet. This didn’t deter me as I knew my next target was his shorts, and I briefly glanced down at them until my eyes locked right onto his crotch…

He had a full on bulge going on, and judging from the size of the tent he was pitching down there, the old man had nothing to be ashamed of unlike poor Rod. 

I had to force myself to look away and locked eyes on Henry’s again, who noticed where my eyes had gone but his expression hadn’t changed, he still looked like he was equally ready to end me as much as strip me naked. 

Our arms were locked in a struggle, and I was holding my own for the moment but I could already feel the strain on my arms weakening my resistance against the slow push of his arms against mine. I tried to push back in a vain attempt to knock him off his balance and I did succeed in sliding him back a bit, however Henry just smiled, a cold, wicked smile and said “it’s cute how you think this is my full strength, time to show you how it’s done”.

He breathed in deeply and his arm muscles rippled and he pushed with much more force this time, and my arms, already strained, couldn't keep up and I lost my grip. Henry seized the advantage and lunged forward and I was too slow to react to try and evade him. With one arm he bound mine behind my back and slammed me down on the ground with my arms pinned underneath me. He used his right arm to hold my torso in place while his legs held down my own. 

He didn’t waste any time gloating or taunting, no he went straight for my throat with his free left hand and gripped the collar of my shirt tightly in his fist. He leaned down towards my ear and without warning he softly licked my earlobe which, despite myself I whimpered and felt my body tingle as he did so. My face flooded with heat as he said “you have no idea how bad you're gonna get it, this is just the start” and with a growl in his throat he tightened his grip on my shirt…and pulled.

RIPPPPP

He completely tore off my shirt, leaving my furry but stocky and well-built chest exposed. The crowd was loving it, they watched Henry completely turn the tables on me and had me firmly pinned, there wasn’t anything I could do to escape unless he wanted me to. Suddenly, he gave both my nipples a twist which made me suddenly gasp and say “Ahhh…fuckkk” I said.

My cock throbbed inside my shorts and Henry noticed the tent in my pants suddenly lurch upward. His grin grew even wider now, and he twisted my nipples again, and again. I had to bite my lip to keep myself from moaning, instead I put every ounce of energy into looking for an opportunity to escape. However, my hopes were in vain as  he twisted my nipples one last time, and harder too, I couldn’t help but let out a soft “Mmmmm” 

While I was distracted, Henry suddenly stepped off me and before I could react he flipped me over onto my stomach and quickly put down my flailing legs and held my arms down with his right. Henry didn’t waste any time in giving my ass a quick slip before saying “time to lose the shorts” he said out loud.

Some in the crowd had heard him and they began to chant the words “lose the shorts!” “lose the shorts!” “lose the shorts!” they said, each time more voices joined in. I couldn’t tell if our colleagues had joined in or not but soon enough their voices chanted in near unison for Henry to divest me of another piece of clothing.

After a few moments, Henry bowed to their wishes, because he kept my legs pinned down but used both of his arms and reached for the sides of my shorts. The soft contact of his hands against my bare skin at first made me gasp and my cock twitch slightly as it was pressed against the floor. He slowly started to lower my shorts, and I could feel the cold air against my lower half as he did so and my cheeks flooded with shame as I felt the top of my ass being exposed.

“Wow! We got another jockstrap here!”

“What a pale butt, he needs to tan more”

“Smack his bare ass!”

As he exposed the top half of my bare butt, Henry did just that and I felt his hand smack against me, the sting made my eyes water a bit and strangely my cock throbbed even harder inside the pouch of my jockstrap. After that, however, Henry lifted himself off me and quickly slid my shorts down and off of my legs, throwing them into the crowd which left me in nothing but my jock, and people quickly noticed my bulge as I flipped upwards to face him.

Before Henry could prepare another attack, I recklessly tackled him to the ground, and the crowd lost it as we each rolled over, our bodies becoming ever more slick with sweat and oil as they collided with both the floor and each other. Henry was caught off guard and I used it to my advantage as we wrestled across the ring, and despite my frantic, energetic attempts to reach them his powerful arms constantly blocked any attempt at grabbing for his shorts.

At one point he wrapped his arms around my stomach and lifted me upwards, holding my body against him, and this time, as I did at the start of our match, this time I could feel his bulge’s warmth against my ass and Henry growled in his throat as he thrust his hips upward, sliding his crotch against my exposed ass cheeks. 

The red in my face returned as it felt so good to feel the warmth of his bulge thrusting against me and that strange desire to submit to him returned. I briefly imagined myself in his office, this time both of us naked and me bent over his desk, with him pounding away at me like the alpha male he was that was claiming what was his. My desire to strip away his shorts now intermingled with my lust for my own boss, which only made me want to slap myself for acting like an animal when I had a match to win. 

I had to break away, but suddenly Henry’s hand reached underneath me, grazing my bare ass cheeks but reaching past to grab my aching cock through the jockstrap’s pouch and I audibly whimpered this time. Henry’s voice whispered in my ear “who knew that the big, tough, new guy Jack was secretly a slut that’s practically begging to take my cock” he said, chuckling softly and I felt my face flood with shame. He knew this was turning me on like hell, and had intuitively guessed at my lust for him. Even before today I caught a few glimpses now and then of his features, checking him out every time he flexed his muscles or bent over it would always catch my eye. But today was the first time I had ever felt anything so intense, especially with my growing desire to let him fuck my brains out, and the fact that he knew was just so embarrassing as I had always cultivated the ideal image of professionalism for myself, and with each time he massaged my bulge it made both my remaining dignity and self-control slip away ever further.

He continued to massage my boner through my jockstrap, and I knew that if I didn’t escape soon I might lose my only remaining piece of clothing or worse…shoot my load in front of everybody here. I couldn’t let that happen so with all my strength I pulled his left arm muscle which made Henry cry out in pain and I seized my chance to break free from his grip. 

I turned around and lunged straight for his shorts, and I managed to grab a hold of his sides but the oil made my grip loose, which made it easy for him to quickly side step me. I wasn’t letting him off easy, so I followed and tumbled with him, his arms again kept trying to hold mine down and overpower me, but I adopted a strategy of swatting his hands away whenever he tried, and my legs were just as powerful as his, indeed mine had the edge in terms of energy and training as his leg strength gave out way faster than mine did. 

His deeply-tanned torso was shining thanks to the oil, which some people continue to pour more into the ring to keep things from drying out. My own torso, much paler than Henry's, was glistening with sweat and oil, which made our grips and grabs flimsier and our bodies easily slid along anothers. 

The crowd was enraptured not only by our determination but also the sexually charged tension between us. Henry had sensed my lust but I was beginning to sense something else from him too, it was one thing to tease and taunt your opponent, however it was another to grab his hard-on and thrust your bulge in between his bare ass cheeks. 

My suspicions were confirmed when I made the mistake of trying to use the floor to slide away from his lunge and latched himself onto my shoulders, he quickly climbed over my body and used his own full body weight to hold me down on the ground, pinned beneath him. I felt it again as he did so, however, the same euphoric warmth of his bulge had nestled itself right along my ass crack. Because of this, I had a rough idea of how big he was and if I was right…he had at least 7 inches on him which I knew could utterly destroy me if he ever did pound me into submission like my cock was begging me to do.

Just then, however, I felt him thrust once, twice, three times, until he was outright humping me. I bit my lip once again and felt my face turn a crimson red as Henry utterly humiliated me by asserting his dominance and manhandling me as if I were nothing. That strange, suppressed desire was starting to take hold of me again, and it took all of my self-control to keep myself from begging him to fuck me right there and then.

I knew I was defeated, however, there was no escape this time and all he needed to do was snap the waistband of my jockstrap and it would be over. It made my desire to submit all the stronger but I held onto my defiance even as my cock was leaking precum inside the pouch of my jockstrap. 

Henry showed no signs of stopping, in fact his slow thrusts turned deeper, faster, more full of energy as he wrapped his hand around the back of my neck and his voice in my ear said “Saturday, 9:00 o’clock at night, my office, don’t be late” he said before kissing the side of my face and licking my earlobe once again which sent shivers down my spine, before retreating.

In my confusion I almost didn’t register him suddenly wrapping his hands around the sides of my jock, and I sank my head in defeat as I felt the fabric give way with a simple snap and I laid there as Henry stood up and raised his arms in victory. The crowd cheered, but some expressed their desire to see me stand up with him, including, I noticed, our colleagues who were standing right beside the edge of the ring now. I realized there was no point in trying to hide, but thankfully Henry extended a hand to me and helped lift me up onto my feet.

“Jesus! That thing is thick!”

“Wow, Can you believe he’s already leaking?”

“Fuck, I’d ride him till he shot!”

Were all shouts from guys in the crowd I could make out coherently, but most of them drooled at the sight of my fully hard, 5-inch long and thick cock. My pale face was beet red, and I sheepishly smiled and chuckled at the guys from the office who all sported wide, shit-eating grins and suffered from bouts of laughter.

Suddenly, Ian tapped on his mic and said “Well well, looks like our winner is Henry Knight, and sorry Jack Whittle, guess you can’t keep your underwear, however, before you leave we keep spare clothes for those who lose them, but feel free to stay as bare as you want,” he said and gave me a wink that only made me turn my head away in embarrassment. 

“Alright folks, let’s get at least two more rounds here, come on, volunteers” Ian said as me and Henry stepped out of the ring, and the guys greeted us with, as I expected, laughter and teasing. I used my hands to cover myself until my boner went down though none of the guys let me off the hook for it.

“Alright fellas, a bet’s a bet, time to pay up” Henry said, and held out his hand, waiting.

The guys all lost their grins immediately and started pulling out their wallets. “Um, what’s going on?” I asked, and Henry looked at me, still bare-chested, and smiled and said “Oh right, well the guys here bet me you wouldn’t even be able to get a single piece of clothing off, but I had faith you’d put up a fight, and trust me…you did” he said as he gladly accepted cash from each of our colleagues, all except for Daniel who stood off to the side, seems he hadn't taken the bet.

I almost couldn’t believe my ears, my mouth hung open, and I was about to lose my shit but suddenly I remembered the second part of my initiation bet…

“So….I lost, and I said I’d do one favor for you guys if I did, so…what is it?” I said.

Henry glanced at the guys, whose knowing smiles returned but they said nothing. Henry spoke up and said “come into work tomorrow and find out” he said, winking and that’s all he would say about it for the rest of the night. We decided to stay and watch the other two matches, one was a Latino man that looked like he was a professional marathon runner, the other was a young blonde that didn’t stand a chance and got stripped fully naked within 5 minutes. The second match was a lot closer, it was between that one hottie I saw before, Sebastian, and some other student I had seen on campus, some red-haired jock that talked a lot of shit. Sebastian managed to put him in his place, stripping his arrogant opponent naked but not before he lost his own shirt and pants. Ian called it a night after that, I made sure to grab a change of clothes from security, which were unfortunately too small but…it was better than walking out naked.

"See you at work tomorrow, sexy" Henry whispered in my ear as he walked by and towards the main doors. I couldn't help but shiver in pleasure as he did so, and despite myself...I couldn't wait for Saturday night, and judging by the growing bulge in my new pants...my cock agreed.

Next day at work

I arrived at my usual time, and everything seemed normal at first until I had put my change of clothes inside my locker and walked out into the main office to see all the guys standing there, including Henry, waiting for me. 

“Uh…what’s up guys?” I asked, nervously.

Henry stepped up and said “Well, you wanted to know what your forfeit was for losing the match, and we decided that if you lost…you have to stay naked at the office for a whole week” he said, and some of the guys snickered.

My eyes widened and I could feel my cheeks blooming with heat as I panicked and said “What?! I’d never have agreed to-t-to this if I’d known this was my forfeit!” I said, my face now crimson red.

“That’s the point, you wouldn’t have, so we had to keep it vague, but you knew that we could have demanded anything when you agreed to the terms, it’s not our fault you failed to consider this possibility, so step up and take your punishment. Strip,” Henry said, that cold and serious look on his face again.

I hesitated, I began to think of what Henry had said last night right before he stripped my jockstrap away, and despite how mad and humiliated I felt…I already knew I was going to do exactly what he told me, and my cock began to rise at the thought of what he planned for me. I knew that there was no point in arguing, if I didn’t, they would strip me themselves, so…I began to remove my clothes.

The guys watched me like vultures as I stripped, first came my socks and shoes, which I left in front of me, then came my shirt which I slowly unbuttoned and I let fall onto the floor, next came my pants which quickly joined my shirt. That left me in nothing but my boxer briefs, and the guys all nodded their approval, including Henry, who watched me ravenously as I slowly pulled off my last piece of clothing and left them in a pile with my other clothes, leaving me totally naked.

Daniel, with a nod from Henry came over and quickly gathered up my clothes and walked off, which left me no choice but to stay naked. I used my hands to cover up and I hung my head in shame as I asked “Do I have to leave the office naked every night for the rest of the week?”

“No, you can get dressed in your change of clothes once you leave work every night, but not before then, oh and don’t worry I’ve changed the schedule, you're on office duty for the next week, so you better get busy naked boy” Henry said, winking at me before walking off.

The guys then walked over and started chatting with me, a bunch of them said they thought I had balls of steel to go up against the boss like that, while others asked if they could have another “look” but I told them to fuck off which thankfully they did. Through all of it, my hands covered what was left of my modesty and dignity. I thought I had found a way to make my initiation as least humiliating as possible…instead I managed to make it possibly the most any guy has ever had to endure.

As I walked past the guys who began to resume their work duties, I felt a stray hand slap my bare ass cheek as I walked by. I glared at them but they only grinned at me in return. They all talked among themselves and as I made my way to the reception desk, where the main desk worker was posted during the day, I thought again of what Henry said but also of how I had to stay naked for the entire week.

If they caught me trying to wear clothes at all they’d just strip me naked again, or worse punish me for disobeying…no, they were right, it was my idea and I agreed to their terms, better I just suck it up and deal with it…

What the guys didn’t know, or see, except maybe Henry, was that as I stripped away my underwear and stood naked in front of them, my cock rose to full mast and still hadn’t gone down. Thankfully I was able to tuck it between my legs and used my hands to cover it, though it made walking awkward. Still, the combination of confusion, embarrassment, and arousal only made things so unclear. One thing remained constant, however, and that was that no matter what, I was going to be in Henry’s office, at 9 o'clock ...on the dot.

End of Chapter.

Author’s Note:

Thank you guys for reading another chapter of this series! I know it’s been a while since my last post but don’t worry I haven’t forgotten you, I’m unsure which character to focus on next, please feel free to suggest any of the ones I’ve introduced so far or someone you’ve been wanting to see from the main cast list! Until next time, I’m always here and I hope you enjoyed ;)

These are my two main choices for the next character chapter, but again feel free to suggest otherwise!

Time for a blast from the past, either:

1.) Professor Ethan from The Professor's Anatomy.

2.) Thomas from Thomas' Misadventures

[miraakulous-cloud-district]

WIP WEDNESDAY

I've been tagged by @dirty-bosmer last week for a wip wednesday, thank you so much, my friend! <3 <3 Progress is still very slow, but I'm getting there and chapter 3 of HOTHS is almost done! I am so immersed in this pirate story that I wrote like a maniac and might have to split the chapter in two if it gets too meaty. For now, have an Edward, because I'm excited about introducing him <3 And I made another picrew for him because the brainrot is brainrotting.

Tagging @dirty-bosmer right back and @bougainvillea-and-saltwater @kiir-do-faal-rahhe @thelavenderelf @bostoniangirl21 @nerevar-quote-and-star @blossom-adventures only if you want to, of course! And if anyone reads this and wants to do it, please consider yourself tagged (and tag me in your post so I can see! <3)

~

“Fuck.” the Nord quickly gets on his feet and walks over to the counter. It’s almost as if he’s a completely different person. He opens a drawer and starts taking the knives, comparing their sizes and considering which one to take. 

“Can you walk with those?” Rhaim points to the chains still attached to his feet.

“Aye, I think I can manage. Thank you, by the way.”

“Can you fight?"

"Can I fight?" He huffs, spinning a sharp knife in his hand. He turns to look at Rhaim and smirks. The bastard actually smirks. Adrenaline works in mysterious ways. "The real question is: Can you keep up?" 

“What’re you gonna do? Poison their apples?” He says, but a knife flies past his face at a distance that is too close for comfort. He whips his head to look where the knife landed, seeing it planted pointy end first into the cupboard beside his head.

"I have exceptional aim." The Nord smiles in a cocky way and Rhaim jerks his head to look back at him, wide eyed.

~

That's it for now! Now look at my boy:

He is smiling while showing the middle finger and being covered in blood. He's a complicated man. Also, while writing, I realized that he turned out much more cocky than I anticipated 💀 But he's still a sad blonde blorbo!

[hepatosaurus]

2023 AO3 Wrapped!

I had a lot of fun tracking my fic reading in 2022, so... I did it again in 2023! Still fun, still both completely unsurprising and a little illuminating at the same time. I definitely read less fic this past year—only 77 across 12 fandoms, compared to last year's 110—but that's OK. Life happens, and I'm very aware that I'm never going to be a person who reads a million words per month (or 100 books a year). Stats-wise, I can't guarantee that these numbers are completely accurate, but they feel right and that's what counts.

Word Count

971,646 words! Numbers fluctuated throughout the year with one real dead zone (lol @ June - I was busy! sibling got married! played a lot of Zelda!), and I kind of petered out by the end of the year. On the plus side, my brain can handle reading actual books again, which was fun. On the minus side: less fic. Oh well. (Also: May's number isn't entirely accurate, but I had to put rubicon's final word count somewhere. No, I haven't finished reading the complete edited fic yet, but that's when the last chapter draft hit my inbox, soooo there.) Most fics were on the shorter side, unsurprisingly (average length was ~12k); I think rubicon was the only one over 100k. I did read more 50–100k fic compared to last year though, which was nice.

(Putting the rest behind a cut. Obligatory warning that this is mostly about Fire Emblem, but what else is new?)

Top Fandoms

My FE3H reading took a HUGE hit this year, falling from 87.3% to... 83.1%. Ouch, how will my faves recover. Really though, this was yet another reminder that although I certainly watched and loved a lot of new movies and tv shows, read new books, played new video games (ok, it was mostly BOTW/TOTK), all things that could conceivably lead me to check out greener pastures, I am still in an extremely monofandom phase in terms of actual fic reading/fandom participation (four years now!). And honestly, I'm fine with that! I'm having fun, blorbos are still my blorbos, there's still a ton of fic I haven't read yet (new and old), and I'm in a nice/quiet/drama-free corner of fandom. Besides, the average fandom lifespan is too short these days anyway. I'm doing my part to break the cycle. :P

I do wish I had the brain space to read a little more widely, though. I was so close to going on a zelink bender after I finished BOTW, but life got busy and it just... didn't happen. Maybe in 2024. Severance and fandom juggernaut SoftBank Next 30-Year Vision tried their best—two fics each! impressive, lol—but the heart wants what it wants, and what it wants is anime chess pieces kissing (and/or killing) each other.

Top Authors

56 individual authors, with the top spot going to...desmodus! which does not surprise me tbh; they write such good fic. Looking at these particular results was an interesting reminder that I'm really not someone who methodically/voraciously reads through an author's entire back catalogue, at least not currently. Like, besides the named authors, there were four more with two fics each and the rest had only one each. Next time, I'm almost tempted to see if I can factor in word count to get a better idea of how much time I really spent reading each author, especially since I might (hypothetically) read multiple forgettable 1–5k fics by Author A, and then a single memorable/meaty 95k fic by Author B that sticks with me for years. Is Author A really more of a "top" author? Not really. That's more work on my part though, so we'll see what happens. (All of this waffling could be solved by making an actual rec list for once, but shhhhh.)

Top Pairings

Surprising absolutely no one, I'm still in sylvix hell. Congrats to None for jumping a couple spots in the rankings, though! A solid showing. I need to get better at tracking platonic relationships, but to be fair, those tags are underutilized on AO3 to begin with (or not used consistently), and I typically—but not always—stick with the main tags chosen by the author.

Also, please note that the ship in sixth place was entirely thanks to alphabetical sorting (it was a six-way tie), but I'm keeping it as is because it makes me laugh/implies some sort of character growth on my part that may or may not exist.

Top Characters

Lol. In my defense(?), Sylvain did drop almost three whole points this year; he couldn't even hit 60%! What kind of blorbo...?! Jokes aside, it's an entirely expected list. My Blue Lions/Golden Deer bias persists, but I'm not sure what determined when I logged "Blue Lions Students" vs. their actual names—probably half laziness, half just following what the author picked. I did love seeing Ask A Manager's Allison Green chilling at the bottom of this list with Bakugo, though. I'm sure she'll be fine. (And god knows Mr. King Explosion Murder and the rest of my top 20 could stand to follow her advice.)

(Also: apologies to Lorenz Hellman Gloucester, as I see his illustrious surname was cut off accidentally. Forgive me.)

Ratings, Categories, etc.

Also pretty unsurprising! I considered cutting my NSFW tracker at the beginning of last year since it's a little redundant, but that never happened. It might come in handy one day, especially if I'm looking through my spreadsheet for individualized recs. I was surprised that the Multi category was so low, but that could be due to inconsistencies in how people tag their fic? And/or how I logged them. Sometimes it means poly, but sometimes it just means that there are multiple kinds of ships in a fic. Either way, it's something to consider for 2024's tracker. Consistency! Let's strive for it! ✨

Tags & Tropes

Also about what I expected, though I was honestly shocked to see Established Relationship ranking so high? And Friends to Lovers so low? What is going ON here. (The former is probably partially due to mikey desmodus's excellent married sylvix fics.) Sorry to Horse Feelings, though; I made a dedicated tag on my google form and everything, but there was only the one fic in the end :(

Etc: Commenting, Rereading, Reccing, and Bookmarks

Commenting: My only real fic-reading "goal" in 2023 was to get my commenting percentage up to at least 50% and...I did that! Just barely, but 51.9% is 51.9%. Obsessive media tracking works!

Rereads: As expected, and pretty in line with last year (with a tiny increase). I'm just not a big rereader in general, though I did do a fair bit of rereading WIPs to prepare for new chapters. (Not sure how I classified those, come to think of it...)

Bookmarks: Also pretty similar to last year (with a tiny decrease).

Reccing: Now this DID surprise me. That "Yes" percentage seems almost absurdly high, jumping from 46.4% to 61%, and my "No"s dropped a ton too (22.7% to 5.2%). Either I got nicer or I just read better fic. :P Leaning towards the former, but probably a bit of both tbh. My one DNF was a longfic WIP that didn't spark joy and was becoming a hateread, which is rare for me - byeeeee.

Takeaways

By now my tracking form has become part of my fic-reading routine (read - track - comment/etc), and I can't see that changing any time soon. Obviously not everyone wants to (or should!) engage with fic this way, and I can definitely see how it might suck the joy out of reading for some people, but for me, it's been a good mental exercise and a really helpful commenting aid. Also, it's just fun. I like thinking critically about media! I like having a place to record my silly little thoughts about the silly little fanfics I read! All in all, I highly recommend doing something similar if you, like me, get a rush from making lists and compiling data, and if you like complimenting people but sometimes need that extra push to actually tell them and post a comment.

Goals-wise... I don't really do those lol. Probably to continue commenting and maybe try to read more widely, but honestly I'm probably not going to change my habits intentionally. Besides, looking at what I've read so far, yes, it's already half Fire Emblem, but also half gen and half F/F with nary a Sylvain in sight*! We got History Boys, we got Haikyuu filk, we got Ingrid and a MILF! Who knows what's around the corner?

(*This is quite literally only because I haven't logged rubicon yet. Don't worry, he's coming.)

[alovelyburn]

Rambles about the Conviction Arc Part 7

I really should have added the first few pages of “To Holy Ground Part1” to the last one since it’s back to Godo but we can’t change the past.

Anyway. this part picks up at a bit of an odd spot really since there’s a lot of different threads going on. We have Guts leaving Godo’s and going in search of Casca, the introduction of Luca and crew (and Casca’s “alternate” name, Elaine), and of course Farnese being pre-redemptive crazy Farnese along with Mozgus who is surprisingly interesting to talk about.

Point is this is probably going to be a little more disjointing than usual but whatever, we’ll live with it. Transitional chapters and all that.

Rambles about the Conviction Arc Part 7

1. It’s so funny to see Rickert being terrified of Puck that way, because... I mean I get the point – he had a very traumatic experience with supernatural beings and so its like a phobia basically, but its just.. its PUCK.That said...

The fact that he pushes past that fear to thank Puck for basically saving Guts’ humanity though, that’s one of the things that makes Rickert an admirable (and healthy, relatively speaking) person.  Someone that honestly Guts should probably learn from. Which, I mean that’s not saying anything new, even Guts knows that.

...and honestly, look at Puck he’s so cute.

I’ve never been a huge Puck fan, so I’ve never been torn up about his loss of prominence, but man that sure is cute.

Anyway back to the meaty bits.

2. Going back to one of my favorite subjects in recent days I guess... Godo is often seen as a father figure for Guts, and I think that is accurate but he’s also... one of many cautionary tales for what Guts could become if he doesn’t watch himself.

Think back to the Golden Age when Guts went in search of his meaning. At that time, when Guts asked why Godo is a blacksmith...

And Godo was like, “I don’t know, it’s just what I’ve always done.” His relationship with the hammer is analogous to Guts’ relationship with the sword, and Guts promptly follows Godo’s logic...

those words settled into Guts in a certain way – he embraced the idea that there is nothing for him other than the sword, that it is part of him the way Godo’s hammer is a part of Godo himself.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not here to say that Guts shouldn’t devote himself to the sword. Guts has always had an incredibly intense relationship with swords. I’ve gone over this before really – his relationship with his sword is the most consistent and the strongest connection he has. That’s why he lost it when the Dragonslayer proved to be insufficient to fight Griffith. And I’m not one to down on that relationship, Guts fucking loves swords, but....

This is the other side of that scene.

Godo and Guts are similar in many ways. Rather than choosing, they had that choice made for them by the circumstances in which they were raised. Like Guts, Godo was in danger of living in isolation, consumed by his life of steel... until he met Erica. This connection allowed him to feel more like a person and less, presumably, like a machine.

This bit is especially important though:

Despite having found that connection, he reverts to type at the end of his life. He “leans into it alone,” as he says. Maybe he was too set in his ways, who knows. When he talked about Guts, comparing him to a overused, cracked and rusted sword that’s begun to break, maybe he was speaking from experience. Well, he probably was.

But he sees that there remains a core to Guts that can be saved – the good steel at the center that never rusts - that can be reborn if tempered properly.

And there it is – “Don’t turn out like me.” Don’t end up an emotional hermit living on steel alone.

I’m not a “Guts’s fixation on swords is bad for him” type of chick, but I do think he uses it as a crutch similarly to the way Griffith used   both the dream and Guts himself as a defense against the stress and pain brought on by each other. The way Griffith buries himself in his dream to avoid dealing with the pain of losing Guts, Guts buries himself in the sword to avoid dealing with the pain of losing the Hawks.

What I’m saying is, there’s nothing wrong with the intensity of Guts’ relationship with the sword per se, te problem is doesn’t make room for anything else.  So Godo, whose life was consumed by steel, who was able to form a human connection or two but ultimately ends up leaning into death on his own, is able to look at Guts, see someone who is beginning to go down that same path, and tell him... “Let it go. Embrace the people you love. Let go of the pain and the rage. Don’t live just for the sword.  Don’t turn out like me.”

This is interesting too.  Because though he’s decided to try and hold onto the flame that is Casca, he hasn’t really changed the way he thinks or the way he acts. Because there he goes again, rushing off without looking back, not even realizing that he’s letting yet another person he loves fall through his fingers without so much as an acknowledgment, leaving footprints in the snow behind him one more time as he disappears..

It’s a whole thing about Guts, really. He’s myopic as hell.

Moving on!  I mean, it probably goes without saying that I always have more to say about main characters than like Luca and such (although I love Luca), but just a headsup. Although I mean, I won’t know whether I’m going to launch into an analysis of Joachim or something until I get there. Anyway, first stop is Farnese.

3. It’s so interesting how much Farnese has changed. I hear that she’s become a completely different character often, which I’m not sure I really agree with - that wasn’t my impression in the past but we’ll see how it reads to me this time.

As of right now, though, I think a lot of the differences come down to a difference in her understanding of the world and her place in it. Later we’ll find out that she was sent to the Holy Iron Chain Knights because she was impossible to manage at home, but it’s like when she got there she grabbed onto role that with both hands and clung for dear life.

I think it’s the first time she felt like she was doing something with herself - she had real power and a real purpose to dedicate herself to and after years of being called a devil child and treated like a monster, that resonated with her. So she dove into it, and dedicated herself.  The fact that the role didn’t fully fit her, the fact that it was kind of imposed on her, was secondary. Right up until a crack is driven into her belief system by her time with Guts and the “miracles” he brings along with him, and now when we catch up with her here, she’s starting to struggle... and as we know, eventually that struggle will just tear her whole belief system apart. 

In the meantime, however, thinking back to that bit about how being commander of the knights is the only time she’s felt like she had true power and a real mission in the world...

...this could only have been incredibly devastating. Because she’s been taking her job seriously, and she finds out that she was only ever meant to be a ceremonial prop.

And that power and purpose can be stripped from her in an instant. And that means means she never really had that power to begin with.

Anyway there is a lot about her that has changed but – and im sure I’ll blah blah about this later one but ima say a bit now anyway – to some degree the fact that she changes entirely when she finds something new to cling to is part of her character in itself, isn’t it? Just the same way she remodeled her entire personality to fit into the Holy See’s demands, she kind of remodels herself when she leaves as well. I’d like to think her story is about discovering the person she really is after her lifetime of trying to figure it out, but who knows.

Anyway, I miss her old hairstyle.

4. Mozgus is a pretty interesting character honestly, and pretty on theme for Berserk. He also serves as another confirmation of some of the light/dark, good/evil blurring in the mythos of the series.  I have a lot to say about him and his followers and how they reflect the story...

That said, hes also a pretty ridiculous character. Just his looks alone are bizarre and out of place in Berserk nevermind the way his entire face turns into a mess of wrinkles and veins when he gets mad. I’m not complaining or anything, it’s just so weird. I know Berserk has never been quite as straight up serious and grimdark as people imagine it to be – it’s always had Puck in it for God’s sake – but its still pretty rare for a human to be so bizarrely inhuman looking in the series.

5. Anyway, I know this scene is where we first see Casca in the “present,” and I have some thoughts about her situation, but I’ll stop for the moment to say that I love Luca. She’s one of my favorite relatively minor characters, and honestly I like her more than a lot of the larger ones, so yay for Luca.

I have such a hard time connecting the Elaine period of Casca’s life to the... well, Casca periods. Like I know that’s kind of the point – she isn’t the woman she was, she’s essentially a child in a woman’s body. But it’s just so odd to watch, you know?

6. Anyway, Isidro. I know he’s a bit of a controversial character with some fans (much like the whole “RPG group”) but personally I’ve always liked him. I do think he’s meant to echo back to Guts but, aside from being a generally sillier person than Guts ever was, he’s more like Guts in his teenage pre-Hawks days than Guts as a kid. It’s not as direct a parallel as, say, Gaiseric/Skull Knight and Guts, but Isidro’s stubbornness and drive, the way It’s impossible to get him to stop pushing toward what he’s trying to accomplish, that’s something he has in common with Guts and also with Griffith for that matter. Not that I expect him to be an epic hero.

Of course his larger personality is very much his own. Just the fact that he uses non-lethal poisons says it all, and he does come off as much more of an actual child than Guts or Griffith ever did.

7. You know those characters where the more the enemy dismisses them the harder they’re about to get their ass kicked? Yeah Guts is one of those characters. It’s not like I can’t understand why a group of skilled assassins or fighters or... I’m not sure what these specific Kushans are, careerwise, but anyway it’s not like I can’t understand why they’d assume they could take him on but just, you almost have to feel bad for them, because they have no idea what they’re walking into.

And it’s funny because Guts isn’t even trying, like he’s mostly just annoyed that they won’t get out of his way.

THIS MOVE IS COMPLETELY UNREASONABLE, WTF GUTS. YOU’RE WEARING ARMOR, ACT LIKE IT.

Last time I was in Berserk fandom, this guy was really popular in some circles and I’m really not clear on why. that’s all.

And here’s our egg of the perfect world.

You know, I kind of appreciate how we see the world through his eyes (literally) - it contextualizes the reason he wished for what he wished for in a way. While his little hole was (mostly) safe and (mostly) comfortable for him, as it was the only thing he knew... his view of the world outside is... not great.

8. I’m pretty sure this is the first time we really starts to spend time with the truly disadvantaged people in Berserk’s world. Griffith used to be part of that world, in a way (in terms of his social class), but by the time we meet him he’d already escaped it and aside from that, he was never a refugee which is just even worse. Guts was really from a completely different “society” than the rest of the world, having just grown up as a citizen of nothing, more or less.

So let’s talk about Mozgus.

9. He’s a weird character, like I said before, but I do think he directly reflects the nature of the religion (and the god) he represents – and also serves as a primer and reflection for parts of Griffith’s role. LET ME EXPLAIN.

So the Idea of Evil, the human-created god of Berserks world, is an entity that serves the desires of humanity but not by protecting humans from suffering, only by explaining that suffering. This is why it’s called the Idea of Evil right, it’s a different thing than being called the embodiment of evil or something to that effect, because what Berserk’s god represents isnt’ malice so much as the idea that malice exists as a reason for suffering. The idea that if a person is in pain it’s because of evil or bad karma or something rather than because sometimes bad shit happens and there’s no reason and no purpose.

As such you can call it something of a dual-natured deity – a servant of humanity that fulfills mankind’s wishes but does so through dealing out pain. And the Holy See itself reflects that – save humanity, persecute outsiders, support nations, burn the witches. This is reflected in Farnese as well, during her days as Holy See commander – her sadism and pyrophilia regarding burning corpses in concert with her genuine desire to protect humanity from the Hawk of Darkness, or her earnest desire ot save, say, this child from starvation even if it means forgiving illegal activity from the mother.

So okay Mozgus, he’s like that too, though he reaches an entirely new level with it.

I do not think he’s lying when he says he’s impressed by this woman’s love, her willingness to risk herself for the well-being of her baby. He actually does bring the baby to medical help. I’m sure he does feel sorry for the people who are starving to death.

And yet...

He has the mother brutally tortured as punishment for her transgressions. And yet...

He cries as he expresses his hope that she will survive and come through it intact.

Which I do think he’s being honest about, but ultimately it doesn’t matter – but more on that in a hot second. The point is he’s a bit more complicated than he initially seems. It makes sense since he’s basically an inquisitor, like this isnt far off from things that the church actually did. 

(As a sort of irrelevant sidenote, the torture room is SO Devilman? It’s got the same kind of layout and vibe as the scene where Akira finds the Makimuras.)

Anyway, visually, the difference between the main tower, which is brightly lit and comfortable, and the torture room reminds me very much of say Falconia vs. the darkness of chaos of Pandemonium, but this isn’t unique to Mozgus or Griffith’s setup either – that “heaven and hell live side by side and are controlled by the same people” setup is repeating idea in Berserk and it goes to the core of the story’s light/dark, good/evil theme. Godhand are both Angels and Devils. Elfhelm is a paradise with dark spot in its heart. The one who bears the light lives in darkness, and inside darkness light is found.

So, for me, the interconnectivity of light and dark, good and evil – and the way darkness is not always destructive and light is not always constructive – are at the heart of Berserk. ...honestly, I’d say it’s the main theme of the story.  And in that way, it’s unsurprising that...

In the end, the kindness he shows the baby doesn’t save it, because he ruins the baby’s mother. And how is an infant supposed to survive in the care of a broken parent who can’t take care of it, or even perceive when it’s died?

Now again, Mozgus is absurd but he still embodies this theme, and the extent to which he does is reflected in his relationship to his personal band of torturers – the outcast people that he did save. Even the way he’s portrayed through his followers’ eyes – cloaked in shadow but lit from above, echoes that light/dark theme.

And here is where the Griffith comparison comes in. on a shallow level Mozgus has, like Femto/NeoGriffith, his angelic presentation and his dark side in both his human and pseudoapostle forms. As a human, the dark side shows in the form of his grotesque anger, and once he becomes a pseudo-apostle, he literally has both an angelic form and a monstrous one. 

And like Griffith he has paid for his influence and power through damage to himself – his prostrations that leave his face smashed flat, and his hobbled knees that have already taken his ability to run and are edging on rendering him incapable of walking.

But most obviously and importantly, I think... look at the way his disciples talk about him – the way they see him, and the reason he chooses them and how he talks about that.

It’s just Griffith’s relationship to the Apostles, who were themselves humans driven out by humanity and brought to the point of despair. There’s a whole thing later in the series where the Apostles are referenced as people who were rejected by humanity and that is part of Griffith’s hold over them - his ability to bring them into the world again, to offer them another chance. And don’t get me wrong I’m aware that Griffith’s hold is literally supernatural, but they’re also explicitly described as acting to protect humanity because it’s their desire, too.

Similarly, Mozgus is able to forge a control over his disciples by offering them salvation - a chance to be something other than outcasts. Even if it makes them monsters, that means more to them than anything.

You even get this shot which resembles some of those Neo Griffith images in tone and composition.

That was a bit of a tangent so lets go back to uh following the plot as it actually occurs....

10. Which means it’s time to meat the rest of Luca’s crew. I really hope that Casca can meet with Luca again before the ending, though with Miura gone I’m kind of expecting that to NOT happen. I don’t know how important it would be for the plot, after all, so I don’t know that Miura would have mentioned it to Mori.

I know some people are very protective of Nina but I’m gonna be honest – she’s one of the few characters in fiction that I actually dislike. It’s not that I don’t understand where she’s coming from, because I do. She’s in a terrible situation, trapped in this area where people are all gunning for one another, and she’s sick, and she’s scared. I get it. It’s just that I find her annoying.

11. Oh my God Jerome implying that Farnese has a crush on Mozgus, I can’t deal.

I don’t think I’ve mentioned this before but Serpico’s fool act is amusing as hell, especially once you’ve seen him when he’s not being ridiculous.

13. I’m fascinated by the conflicting accounts of what is 99% sure to be Void’s Eclipse. It’s very accurate to the way history and legends change over time.

Even so the consistent elements do spin a tale, albeit an incompletely one: a sage in a tower charged with treason or something to that effect who wouldn’t break even when faced with intense torture who eventually reached his lowest point and became Void by sending the kingdom into Hell. It’s interesting because if that really is what happened – assuming we don’t find out that the Sage was the evil one the whole time or something to that effect, then Gaiseric was the bad one wasn’t he? Which is to say, Skull Knight was the one in the wrong, and who drove the Sage to become Void.

Which honestly works very well for me – it fits the way those who accept the Sacrifice are portrayed - as victims of... poor luck, or poor circumstances, or poor relationships or all of the above. And as I’ve said before, having the sacrifices themselves as source of their despair does genuinely change the way I perceive them.

That said, Void and Femto have a lot in common. VERY similar origin story, but what’s interesting to me is that Void appears to have taken the entire damn kingdom down with him (I mean, the city at least)... and also that he was seemingly “easier” to break than Griffith since the torture alone triggered the eclipse. Assuming we’re not missing anything which I’m sure we are.

Void even ends up with Skull Knight, who is basically his Guts. I mean I don’t expect an exact 1:1 parallel - there are already differences of course, but it does go to how history repeats itself.

So, for the sake of not offending the tumblgods, I’m just going to slide over the orgy with Nina and Joachim, but there are a few important points to note. For example this bit:

14. A priest who was suspected of heresy and thus tortured seemingly into madness. Now, was he spreading heresy? I mean... probably by Mozgus’ standard, because he’s talking about the revelations of a goddess of flame. But it’s interesting because for those of us who know the story already we know that he’s actually correct – the hawk shall alight and, after it repels the [kushans], “it shall lead us to be one nation.” It’s also funny because Griffith is the messiah of the Holy See, so this priest seems to have been punished by the Holy See for preaching revelations about the Holy See’s savior.

Then, going back to where I just left off (sorry for being a pingpong ball), in the midst of this pagan orgy we are given the identity of the goddess of flame...

Which is Slan.

15. FREAKING CANNIBALISM I really have nothing to add aside from jknajhbdaj  cannibalism.

I also have no idea how to handle Luca’s spontaneously spanking Nina like she’s a child or something, help.

16. When Casca gets assaulted by the cultists and she has that flashback to the Eclipse, it’s just interesting because as far as I can remember she always flashes to being raped by the Apostles – she never really thinks about the Femto thing that I can recall? 

Whether that has any significance I couldn’t say – could be that Miura just didn’t want to use that specific part too much lest it lose its impact, but I do think that kind of contributes to the belief some people have (not me, to be clear) that the rape wasn’t a rape, since she rarely connects it to her mindbreak.

This whole scene is some serious Devilman shit though – it’s just Ryo’s Sabbath disco in Medieval times, especially once Casca’s brand starts attracting spirit.

Aaaand that’s it for today this is long enough. See you on the flipside when we get back to Guts and learn a little more about Farnese.

[iliad24]

15 and 31 for the fic asks :)

15. What’s your favorite AU that you’ve written?

ohhh my god unfortunately my favorite aus are all still wips. like i love tattoo au but like. well i think as far as concept goes my favorite au is the 90 day fiance au where jack, rose, and thirteen are stuck in england and the tardis is stuck in the us and instead of like. doing anything that makes logical sense they're like "okay well we're immortal anyway so we might as well take our good sweet time" and they do a series of green card marriages (jack poses as a us citizen, he marries rose, rose gets her citizenship and divorces him and then marries thirteen) and they go on 90 day fiance. the story is told through episode transcripts and news articles and such and i haven't figured out how to execute it yet but i want to show the audience like. slowly figuring out that these guys are weird. (i also want to set it like. just after covid lockdowns start to ease up so i can have an exchange in one of the episodes like "how were we supposed to know there was going to be a pandemic? it's not like we're time travelers" because of course they are time travelers and they just didn't remember)

my other favorite au (also a wip) is this like. thirteenyazrose thing that started as a fake dating au where rose is like. being hit on at work and thirteen is a new hire who comes up and is like "hey get away from my girlfriend" but like she does her threatening little growl But Also rose and yaz have been dating for years and so when rose tells this to yaz yaz is like "okay well if she's pretending to date one of us she's got to pretend to date both of us" and everything snowballs from there. this one also involves the pandemic because i was thinking about how canon yaz and rose both spend a lot of time away from the doctor and i think it would be interesting to adapt that to a human au by having the doctor be doing some kind of study abroad and not be able to come back on time. but this one has like a ton of prequel material of yaz and rose getting together but all of it is like. really rough around the edges and self-indulgent and not really like. in good shape yet to publish. and i'm having to rewrite the single chapter i had of the main fic because i remembered about making rose a mechanic. so now it's going to be where rose and human thirteen are mechanics and yaz is an emt. but like this au is my favorite because it's like. a comfort fic at this point it just is like a little home to me so i don't know when i'll ever post it but i do love it

31. What’s your ideal fic length to write?

ough this has actually changed in the last year! i used to mostly write shorter stuff, but lately i've had a ton of trouble keeping anything short, everything i've written has expanded a ton. which i think is a good thing, i've been adding a lot more depth and detail to my works. like at one point i looked at like. a first kiss that i wrote when i was fourteen and compared it to a more recent one and literally the more recent one was like. whole paragraphs longer. which might also tell you how many people i'd kissed at fourteen but anyway. i've been enjoying the really long fics, my current long wip (tattoo au, aka when i run away (you're who i run to)) is at 75k and counting. but those fics do require a lot of commitment-- i love writing that length but i can only sustain one at a time and there's always a risk that i'll lose interest in it or ability to write it partway through. i've been trying to finish stuff or at least write super far ahead before i post too. so anyway i think my ideal length for like. regular posting is somewhere in the... 7-20k range? long enough that it feels meaty but not so long that it takes a huge commitment to write.

huh these were long but in my defense if you've read my authors notes you should expect me to be Like This

[pennyinheaven]

I patiently waited for Ch 27.

I am very proud of myself for scrolling away the chapter summary, the ultimate chapter spoiler. I am usually very impatient and is usually fine with spoiling myself with new chapters but this time I was able to evade reading the summary. The chapter was worth the wait. 

I’ve reblogged raws and the instant translations but nothing beats reading the properly translated chapters because I fully understand the context of the images and the dialogues. I have different interpretations from the raws and instant translations do not sink in right away. 

I misunderstood Doumeki’s eyes at first, I thought he was simply concerned about Yashiro’s injuries, which probably what Yashiro was pertaining to when he said that he is resilient. But Doumeki’s thoughts say that it was because he is apologetic to what he has done. I thought Yashiro was simply avoiding or being awkward towards intimacy but he actually probably caught on Doumeki’s thoughts, thus he looks away. He didn’t want to see the pained and guilty Doumeki. Quick guess is that Yashiro probably thought that he’s used to it or that he deserved to be forced, that was his fate as a neko, etc. Doumeki was not in the wrong and that if anyone should be blamed it should be him. 

“At that moment I realized, that I meant something to this person…”

I am thrilled that I am reading Doumeki’s thoughts in the black boxes, dang. This person’s struggle is real. Just look at those eyes: fear of the un-/certain. He wanted to keep thinking positive that what happened was “love-making” because Yashiro cared for him, showed concern, that he was valuable to Yashiro as he is to Doumeki. That that sex was mutual. Otherwise, he’s just like other men Yashiro has slept with, men who forced themselves into Yashiro, violated and dehumanized Yashiro, he would just be the gentle version of them. Apologizing would confirm this. Well, I understand why Doumeki would think this way. Yashiro never outright admitted who Doumeki is for him, for us readers it was implied, for Doumeki though, he was just assuming that what Yashiro was saying is that he is that important to him. Doumeki can never be sure by just assuming and he’s afraid that his assumption is wrong. He thinks if he was wrong, then what happened was rape/non-consensual sex rather than love-making. Honestly, I would think the same. Nothing beats hearing the actual words such as “I like/love you”, “you are important to me” and the likes, they are solid confirmation for what a person feels, the relationship and the feelings are official; otherwise it’s all just an assumption. 

Doumeki can also read through Yashiro.  Yashiro being so concerned of Doumeki, worrying about him not getting any sleep, allowing Doumeki to cuddle, reaching Doumeki’s nape, Doumeki is already sensing the impending doom: Yashiro leaving. It was so obvious! Even I would sense that without the hint from the last panel in Ch 25.  “Everything’s fine. Hurry up and get some sleep” With a smile on his face - Bitch, couldn’t you get any more obvious? LOL. Kidding aside, I understand Doumeki and his fears. “I’m afraid to close my eyes” and my most favorite one “I just wanted to bind him to me.” YES, ME TOO. I WANT TO WRAP YOU TWO LIKE A BURRITO AND TIE YOU UP AND SHIP YOU GUYS AWAY TO A FAR FAR AWAY PLACE, JUST THE TWO OF YOU, TOGETHER, ALONE. ***sigh***

“I don’t want to become any more-” vulnerable?? I have no idea. But this:

“It’s because it felt so good.” “But that was a lie.”

OMG. Are we back at square one? Well, not really but it reminded me of the hotel and car scenes and I guess Ch 24 too, when Yashiro and Doumeki are on a war on who’s gonna give up first and who’s gonna keep their walls up. Doumeki doesn’t want to probe too much, Yashiro is trying to build up his walls again, weak walls but he’s trying. Both can read each other all too well but both do not want to be honest of what they think the other is thinking. They are very cautious about each other.

I wonder who among those two policemen is the detective/police Yashiro always talked to. At least now we might have an idea who it is. Anyway, I love Ryuuzaki and Yashiro together. I think they are cute, well Ryuuzaki is because he is in denial of his affections towards Yashiro but this time, he can’t control his thoughts any longer. He is fully aware of his feelings, still denying it, yes, but he’s much aware of it now and he constantly needs to tame his thoughts on going in that direction.

I love how he finally noticed the shirt after a few minutes entering the car. Took him time but you notice right away when he finally realizes “the shirt”.

Yashiro in shirt = nasty-orgy-drowning-in-cum sex This is what it meant for Ryuuzaki. This whole scene was bittersweet for me. The “shirt” moment was the time that tugged Ryuuzaki’s heart and probably thought that there are men that need protection and care, not just women. In their conversation and Ryuuzaki’s thoughts, I sense that he has this typical mentality that men are strong and women are weak, physically speaking, of course. Thus women should be protected and saved while men are strong and should be saving and protecting the weak. Yashiro is a man but is “weak”, that he gets violated by other people and just asks to be saved, well at least that’s what that window sill memory tells him. Ryuuzaki wants to protect him but it contradicts what he believes into.  Nipple-biting I thought Yashiro’s reaction was because he hated being licked but he was rather reacting to the pain. “You never change” “I’m not usually into nipple-biting” But Ryuuzaki usually plays with Yashiro’s nipples, from the first time years ago and even in the earlier chapters when Misumi interrupted them. Ryuuzaki’s loosing all control, I swear. Both are childish in their conversation, classic. Oh and Yashiro cares about the shirt getting stretched. Hmm…I’m probably overthinking about it. I can say more about this scene but I’ll just save it up for another post. Though, I noticed, Yashiro’s switch did not come up. Isn’t it that his switch is easily turned on whenever anything sexual was done to him? Bitten nipple would definitely turn him on. I could be wrong though or the switch now only turns on for Doumeki. Hmmm….. Anyway, I just love that they look out for each other. 

I finally understood this swag/supermodel look Yashiro have here. It’s ‘thanks for looking out for me, back then and now, this is what I can do for you’. Yashiro is simply paying back and thanking Ryuuzaki for his feelings and his concern for Yashiro. Although he always acts like Yashiro is just a toilet, Yashiro knows that Ryuuzaki sees him as human, weak but at least he is human in Ryuuzaki’s eyes.

DAMMIT Ryuuzaki’s injured. I hope he gets treated right away. It looks bad, probably some organ damage might happen. I JUST DON’T WANT HIM TO DIE OKAY. He said “…he looked so damn good, it pissed me off”. My interpretation could be wrong but I think Ryuuzaki is conflicted again. The last time Yashiro wore a shirt, he looked horrible, empty, defeated, pitiful and reeked sex; this time, he looked happy, relaxed, glowing and refreshed yet he reeked sex. He imagined that Yashiro probably got into another kinky ordeal and happen to wear a shirt. His expectations on Yashiro in a shirt did not match the current Yashiro wearing a shirt that reeked sex. Little did he know why Yashiro’s butt is loose, not from multiple partners this time, but only from one partner last night. He’s not wrong though, there was still a lot of sex happened.

I like the transition from Ryuuzaki to a clinic or hospital but I seriously do not want to know about Hirata’s condition. If only Ryuuzaki aimed a bit higher, he would’ve gotten Hirata’s kidney. 

The comedy relief in this chapter is gold. I don’t know I laughed a lot when Yashiro corrects that his nipple was bitten not licked. Report properly and accurately guys. This is essential in any organization you are working for. Yashiro being an exemplary employee knows this, so take note of that, Whale & Shark. 

I am worried how and where Doumeki would look for Yashiro and where will Yashiro go next? Two locations…There’s 1) Misumi’s place - though I doubt he would meet up with him any time soon since he doesn’t want Misumi involved, he’s fine Misumi getting updates but that is it; 2) Kageyama’s clinic - to tend for his injuries and probably more meds, knowing he is not fully recovered, but what else could he be doing there? To confirm his feelings for Doumeki? Will he ever say anything to Kage? Highly doubting that though, as if I didn’t know Yashiro’s personality. 3) His office - reuniting with Nanahara and checking up Sugimoto (he was probably injured since he was supposed to be with Ryuuzaki, right?), and plan what to do next; 4) Doumeki’s place (?) - to check up on Doumeki??? Yeah, right. Yashiro is not there yet. Unfortunately, Doumeki would have to find Yashiro himself. If they do meet though, I am anxious at what Yashiro would do. Fire him? Ignore him like that never happened? Assign him another task, not his bodyguard anymore? What I’m sure though is that my heart will be ripped once they meet.

[theartofdreaming1]

Katniss, bravely stepping inbetween Gale and Thread (and his whip) - she’s so courageous and protective, she deserves the world 😭

As usual, my thoughts regarding this week’s prompts and (many) random thoughts on chapters 7-9 are below the cut. (Is it just me, or are my notes getting longer and longer with each and every post? I swear, this book is so meaty, we’ll soon reach the point where I have to type out the entire chapter, with my thoughts in the margins)

heart

“Gale is mine. I am his. Anything else in unthinkable.” 

I think these words are a result of Katniss being so afraid of losing Gale that she’s kinda overcompensating; their relationship has been strained these past few months and they’d just had a row, separating from each other on bad terms - and the next time she sees him, he’s been whipped so bad that he’s lost consciousness and could be potentially dying from his wounds. Of course she’s so terrified of losing him, that she’s holding on as tightly as she can to him. It’s important to keep in mind how important their relationship is to her and we see that in her preceding thoughts: What a pair we were - fatherless, frightened, but fiercely commited, too, to keeping our families alive. Desperate, yet no longer alone after that day, because we’d found each other. I think of a hundred moments in the woods, lazy afternoons fishing, the day I taught him to swim, that time I twisted my knee and he carried me home. Mutually counting each other, watching each other’s backs, forcing each other to be brave. - Gale was the first person who was her equal, a kindred spirit, her partner. After Katniss had lost both of her parents when her father died and her mother succumbed to her depression - the people who were supposed to care for her and guide her through growing up - she was stuck with the role of sole provider and protector of her family at age eleven. She must have been so lonely all this time until she met this boy who understood what she was going through and they learned from each other and shouldered their burdens together, to take off some of the overwhelming pressure. Of course that relationship, of course Gale is important to her. But also now their relationship has become more fragile, after the Games they are in danger of growing apart - it’s got to be so terrifying to feel like the one proper, mutual relationship you’ve had seems to be slipping through your fingers. With everything that’s going on, her entire life as it is teetering on the razor’s edge (heck, the president himself has been threatening her and her family!), it’s no wonder that Katniss is craving that familiarity and safety that her relationship with Gale used to provide her with. And seeing Gale in this state just has her holding on to him more tightly than ever.

mind

Hmm, no big moment is coming to my mind right now; I think I’m always most impressed by the tiny moments that show how tenacious, resilient and fiercely kind humans can be - like Darius stepping forward to stop Gale’s cruel punishment, Leevy volunteering to tell Hazelle about Gale and promising to stay with the Hawthorne children, Madge bringing the morphling, Katniss pressing Darius’s hand in the Training Center, Twill taking Bonnie with her to flee to D13 and so on.

soul

I believe that Katniss was honestly surprised to learn that Gale had feelings for her; she had categorically shut down the idea of entering a romantic relationship for herself, so I don’t think she’d seriously consider anyone being romantically interested in her in return (that’s not how that works, of course, but I think that’s how she perceived the whole shtick). Their kiss threw her completely for a loop and if anything, she mostly saw it as something that contributed to the deterioration of their previous, easy and comfortable relationship.

Chapter 7

A mockingjay is a creature the Capitol never intended to exist. [...] They hadn’t anticipated its will to live. - In a way, the Capitol continues to make this mistake with the people living in the districts, too - underestimating their will to live (opposed to just surviving)

I look in his [Gale’s] eyes. His temper can’t quite mask the hurt, the sense of betrayal he feels at my engagement to Peeta. This will be my last chance, this meeting today, to not lose Gale forever. - Okay, we don’t know how much Katniss might be (incorrectly) presuming here, but the idea that Gale might feel betrayal because his best friend is being forced into an engagement pisses me off. It’s fine if he’s feeling jealous because she’s being paired off with Peeta when he wishes he could have a shot with her, but how in the world does this even rate as a betrayal?! A) It’s done against her will and B) Just because they’re friends doesn’t mean Katniss owes him anything when we’re talking about romantic feelings... Ugh 😒 Also, it’s quite noteworthy how insecure Katniss feels about their relationship - she’s constantly worried Gale will drop her and their friendship (waiting for Gale after the camera teams left after winning the Games: I’d begun to think that he’d given up on me in the weeks that had passed.- Ch. 2) and it doesn’t help that she’s been through that extreme, traumatic experience without him and they haven’t had much opportunity to spend a lot of time with each other (with the Victory Tour and Gale having to work so much) and when they do hang out, they don’t seem to really talk much, which doesn’t exactly help...

He [Gale] tosses the gloves on my lap. “Here. I don’t want your fiancé’s old gloves.” “He’s not my fiancé. That’s just part of the act. And these aren’t his gloves. They were Cinna’s,” I say. “Give them back, then, he says. - Gale can be so petty sometimes 🙄

While I talk, [...] [Gale] occupies himself with turning the food in the leather bag into a meal for us. Toasting bread and cheese, coring apples, placing chestnuts in the fire to roast. I watch his hands, his beautiful, capable fingers. Scarred, as mine were before the Captiol erased all marks from my skin, but strong and deft. [...] Hands I trust. - Oh boy, this moment really shows how these two are at cross purposes right now - Gale’s prepping the food as you would for a toasting (romantic connotation), while Katniss is oberserving his hands, thinking how their hands used to match (not anymore!) and basically wishing herself back into the time before the Games, when things were ‘simpler’/more clearly defined (and also platonic!); there is nothing romantic from her P.O.V. - it’s all about the friendship and trust

[Gale] steps in and I feel myself lifted off the ground. The room spins, and I have to lock my arms around Gale’s neck to brace myself. He’s laughing, happy. “Hey!” I protest, but I’m laughing, too. Gale sets me down but doesn’t release his hold on me. “Okay, let’s run away.” [...] “You’re sure?” I say. [...] “I’m sure. I’m completely, entirely, one hundred percent sure.” - Yeah, and I’m sure you’re not going to change your opinion in the next five minutes, Gale... In his defense, Gale didn’t know all the details, so in that regard it’s totally valid that he might decide to change his mind after having more input... It’s just that Katniss specifically asks him whether he’s sure and his reply is so full of conviction (100% sure!), only for him to do a complete 180 just a couple of minutes later; Gale’s very hot and cold, which makes for such a harsh contrast when compared to Peeta’s more measured reaction later in the chapter

He tilts his forehead down to rest against mine and pulls me closer. [...] I don’t try to move away. Why should I, anyway? His voice drops to a whisper. “I love you.” That’s why. - Oh man, Katniss just can’t catch a break 😞 Really not wise of Gale to drop the L-bomb here (after, what? a kiss they never talked about and little else... their communication is truly abysmal and it’s really damaging to their relationship, hurting the both of them)

“Gale, I can’t think about anyone that way now. All I can think about, every day, is how afraid I am. And there doesn’t seem to be room for anything else. If we could get somewhere safe, maybe I could be different. I don’t know.” I can see him swallowing his disappointment. “So, we’ll go. We’ll find out.” - I mean, honestly, I totally understand where Katniss is coming from - she doesn’t need a romantic interest, she needs a partner, which is why she’s been so eager to talk to her hunting partner, someone she’s used to rely on for survival and now he’s also confounding their relationship by introducing that romance-angle (as if it wasn’t bad enough that her relationship with Peeta got kind of messed up when that same angle was forced upon them prematurely)... Also, telling how Katniss thinks she’d have to be different to maybe even consider a romantic relationship with Gale - Katniss as she is right now just can’t see herself wanting to be with Gale romantically; it would require a change... I’ve got to give Gale credit for still going along with it, and trying to push past his disappointment, though

“My [Gale’s] mother is going to take some convincing.” [...] “Mine, too. I’ll just have to make her see reason. Take her for a long walk. Make sure she understands we won’t survive the alternative.” “She’ll understand. I watched a lot of the Games with her and Prim. She won’t say no to you,” says Gale. - That’s interesting, I wonder what exactly Gale means by that? That Mrs. Everdeen won’t say no to Katniss because she feels guilty that Katniss had to go through the Games or because watching her daughter compete in the Games really made her realize how messed up Panem is? Or that she’s more inclined to trust Katniss’s judgement after everything that has happened?

“Haymitch will be the real challenge.” “Haymitch?” Gale abandons the chestnuts. “You’re asking him to come with us?” “I have to, Gale. I can’t leave him and Peeta because they’d-” His scowl cuts me off. “What?” “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how large our party was,” he snaps at me. - Gale doesn’t seem to have realized how close and important Peeta and Haymitch have become to Katniss... maybe because they never properly talked about this aspect of Katniss’s life (I swear, their shoddy communication must account for at least half of the damage their relationship has taken in these past few months alone)

“What if he [Peeta] decides to stay?” he [Gale] asks. I try to sound indifferent, but my voice cracks. “Then he stays.” “You’d leave him behind?” Gale asks. “To save Prim and my mother, yes,” I answer. “I mean, no! I’ll get him to come.” “And me, would you leave me?” Gale’s expression is rock hard now. - Boy, oh boy! I think Gale knows (like Peeta) that Katniss could never leave behind the people she cares about; then, he’s kind of gauging whether Peeta has already received the Katniss Everdeen Stamp of ‘Caring’ - and, as it turns out, he has! And then Gale ends up making it into a bit of  competition by asking her whether she would leave him behind (or, alternately, her turning him down has him confused about the depth of their relationship, I dunno); not fun

“There’s an uprising in Eight?” he [Gale] says in a hushed voice. I try to backpedal. To defuse him, as I tried to defuse the districts. - Katniss is going to be about as successful as she’d been at defusing the districts, too - But here we have another example of Katniss trying to rein in Gale’s temper because she’s afraid he’s going to get himself in trouble (like when she decided not to tell him about Snow’s visit to her house because she was worried what he’d do with that information)... It’s really not great that she feels the need to censor herself so he won’t do something dangerous... Katniss knows first-hand how badly impulsive actions and decisions can be received in the Capitol - and she never even meant for a rebellion to happen!

“And it’s my fault, Gale. Because of what I did in the arena. If I had just killed myself with those berries, none of this would’ve happened. Peeta could have come home and lived, and everyone else would have been safe. too.” “Safe to do what?” he says in a gentler tone. “Starve? Work like slaves? Send their kids to the reaping? You haven’t hurt people - you’ve given them an opportunity. They just have to be brave enough to take it. - Katniss is taking all the responsibility upon herself again... Gale is right to point out that she was merely a catalyst, not the cause for the rebellion - the cause are the awful living conditions of the people in the districts

“Stop it! You don’t know what you’re saying. The Peacekeepers outside of Twelve, they’re not like Darius, or even Cray! The lives of district people - they mean less than nothing to them!” I say. “That’s why we have to join the fight!” he answers harshly. “No! we have to leave here before they kill us and a lot of other people, too!” [...] “You leave, then, I’d never go in a million years.” [...] “What about your family?” “What about the other families, Katniss? The ones who can’t run away?” - This discourse is so painful because they are both right - Katniss has seen more of the districts and how things are handled beyond the (relatively tame) confines of D12 and it’s fair that she wants to know that the people she cares about are safe from harm; Gale, of course, has a point commenting that not everyone has that opportunity and the only way to have a long-lasting, wide-spread improvement of their conditions is through rebelling against their oppressor - but that will inevitably come along with sacrifices and collateral damage and it’s easy to say that it will be worth it in the long run, but when those who are hurt/dead could end up being your loved ones, it’s definitely easier said than done

He throws Cinna’s gloves at my feet. “I changed my mind. I don’t want anything they made in the Capitol.” And he’s gone. I look down at the gloves. Anything they made in the Capitol? Was that directed at me? Does he think I am now just another product of the Capitol and therefore something untouchable? The unfairness of it all fills me with rage. But it’s mixed up with fear over what kind of crazy thing he might do next. - Gale getting rid of Cinna’s gloves just because they are from the Capitol is a prime example of this “us vs. them” mindset that he will be (worringly) fast to adopt - of course, perceiving the opposite side as “other” will make it easier to fight against them; however, it’s all too easy to lose sight of your opponent’s humanity when you think like that (think of how Gale has a hard time understanding Katniss’s distress upon seeing her prep team being treated so terribly/inhumanely in D13); Katniss feeling upset that Gale might perceive her as a product of the Capitol instead of its victim is understandable (and isn’t that exactly what the inhabitants of D13 are going to think of Peeta in MJ?) - and yet, she is still worried Gale could get himself into trouble with his impulsivity; she’s a good bean

”Going to town?” I ask. “Yes. I’m supposed to eat dinner with my family,” he [Peeta] says. - I’m tripping over the word ‘supposed’ here - it doesn’t sound like Peeta’s looking forward to hanging out with his fam, although it can’t be that often, since they’ve been away on Victory Tour and he is living alone (maybe the end of the chapter will give us another hint why that is 😒😒)... I can’t help but wonder whether these family dinners are mainly for public perception (in that case... it really is no wonder Peeta is so good at playing the cameras - poor guy had to fool the outside world his entire life) or because they are the only chance for Peeta to hang out with any of the members of his family he might actually want to spend some time with

“Peeta, if I asked you to run away from the district with me, would you?” Peeta takes my arm, bringing me to a stop. He doesn’t need to check my face to see if I’m serious. “Depends on why you’re asking.” President Snow wasn’t convinced by me. There’s an uprising in District Eight. We have to get out,” I say. “By ‘we’ do you mean just you and me? No. Who else would be going?” he asks. - Peeta doesn’t just blindly agree to Katniss’s proposal; he needs to know what’s going on first (he has been burnt before - no more secrets!) - and it’s a testament to how well he knows her that as soon as he’s asking whether she meant just the two of them, he corrects himself because knows that Katniss would never leave the ones she cares about behind

“What about Gale?” he says. “I don’t know. He might have other plans,” I say. Peeta shakes his head and gives me rueful smile. “I bet he does. Sure, Katniss, I’ll go.” I feel a slight twinge of hope. “You will?” “Yeah. But I don’t think for a minute you will,” he says. [...] “Then you don’t know me. Be ready. It could be any time.” - Telling how Peeta immediately agrees to the plan once he gathers that Gale won’t come - he knows that Katniss cares about Gale and could never leave him behind, ergo she’d never actually leave under these circumstances - he knows her so well. Also, Katniss’s reaction is like that of a petulant child, it’s kind of funny 😄

“Katniss, hold up.” [...] “I really will go, if you want me to. I just think we better talk it through with Haymitch. Make sure we won’t be making things worse for everyone.” - Ultimately, Peeta would follow Katniss to the ends of the earth - doesn’t mean that he can’t throw in a sensible suggestion in there as well 😉 (Also, in the next chapter we will see how Katniss, Gale, and Peeta might be a little too inexperienced/naive to be able to form accurate expectations of what is to come - Haymitch and his generation have a little more experience in that regard)

He raises his head. “What’s that?” [...] I haven’t noticed the strange noise coming from the square. A whistling, the sound of an impact, the intake of breath from a crowd. “Come on,” Peeta says, his face suddenly hard. I don’t know why. I can’t place the sound, even guess at the situation. But it means something bad to him. - Why does my sweet boy know what a whipping sounds like, Suzanne, huh?! Care to explain that? 😭

Peeta steps up on a crate against the wall of the sweetshop and offers me a hand while he scans the square. I’m halfway up when he suddenly blocks my way. “Get down. Get out of here!” He’s whispering, but his voice is harsh with insistence. - Peeta was offering his hand to help Katniss up the crate because they are a team (and he’s a gentleman)! It’s only when he recognizes who is receiving those lashes and realizes that Katniss will lose her shit once she knows, which could make the current situation even worse, that he urges her to leave, and he is not the only one to think that: - Voices hiss. “Get out of here, girl.” “Only make it worse.” What do you want to do? Get him killed?”

Chapter 8

It’s too late to stop the arm from descending, and I instinctively know I won’t have the power to block it. Instead I throw myself directly between the whip and Gale. I’ve flung out my arms to protext as much of his broken body as possible, so there’s nothing to deflect the lash. I take the full force of it across the left side of my face. - Katniss is so selfless; she knows that it’s either Gale getting hit again or a lash to her own face and she chooses the latter

“Hold it!” a voice barks. Haymitch appears and trips over a Peacekeeper lying on the ground. It’s Darius. [...] He’s knocked out but still breathing. What happened? Did he try to come to Gale’s aid before I got here? - Haymitch sure appeared quickly - I can easily imagine Peeta taking off immediately to get him (or send someone to bring him to the square) once he knew Katniss couldn’t be stopped; but if Haymitch had been at his house in Victor’s Village, there is no way he’d have made that quickly to the square... maybe he was already at the Hob and had gotten wind of the whole situation? Also, poor Darius! Wearing a uniform/being in some sort of position of power is no guarantee you won’t get punished as soon as you show the tiniest glimpse of compassion - in a place like Panem, nobody is safe from the caprice of the people in charge

I see a flicker of recognition in the eyes of the man with the whip. [...] it wouldn’t be easy to identify me as the victor of the last Hunger Games. Especially with half my face swelling up. But Haymitch has been showing up on television for years, and he’d be difficult to forget. - Getting Haymitch truly was the smartest move to make (which is why I’m pretty sure it was a move on Peeta’s part - he’d know how to use reminders of ‘appearances’ to ensure a punishment wouldn’t go ‘too far’, y’know 😢). But also - Thread must have lived under a flipping rock, to not being able to recognizes Katniss (her face must have been plastered all over the place during the Victory Tour, which just had concluded recently) - or he was just too in the heat of the moment, with someone opposing him, bleugh 😒

“He [Gale] was poaching. What business is it of hers, anyway?” says the man. “He’s her cousin.” Peeta’s got my other arm now, but gently. “And she’s my fiancée. So if you want to get to him, expect to go through both of us.” - I love how Peeta’s just laying it down as it is; his phrasing just sounds so factual, rather than provocative (although it is, of course); he really has a way with words - Maybe we’re it. The only three people in the district who could make a stand like this. Although it’s sure to be temporary. There will be repercussions. - Haymitch, Peeta, and Katniss working together as a team again! Also, a good example of the effect people with public influence can have 

One [Peacekeeper], a woman named Purnia who eats regularly at Greasy Sae’s, steps forward stiffly. “I believe, for a first offense, the required number of lashes has been dispensed, sir. Unless your sentence is death, which we would carry out by firing squad.” “Is that the standard protocol here?” asks the Head Peacekeeper. “Yes, sir,” Purnia says, and several others nod in agreement. I’m sure none of them actually know because, in the Hob, the standard protocol for someone showing up with a wild turkey is for everybody to bid on the drumsticks. - It’s kinda nice to see the local Peacekeepers supporting Purnia’s claim to get this display to stop - this is the only way out of this situation where Thread’s authority is not openly challenged (and we know Thread doesn’t take well to having his authority challenged - see Darius)

There’s no stretcher, but the old woman at the clothing stall sells us the board that serves as her countertop. “Just don’t tell where you got it,” she says, packing up the rest of her goods quickly. Most of the square has emptied, fear getting the better of compassion. But after what happened, I can’t blame anyone. - It’s sad how that air of intimidation makes people want to mask their acts of compassion (and also says a lot about the precariousness of the existing living situations if that old lady is still selling that board - I’d never even consider exchanging money for that, but that’s probably my privileged situation showing here; Katniss brings up the theme of fear vs compassion - very fitting, since it seems to be her driving force (although, generally, her compassion wins out over her fear) and despite her assertion that fear appears to be getting the better of compassion we see a good amount of people reaching out to help, such as the following example:

Leevy, a girl who lives a few houses down from mine in the Seam, takes my arm. My mother kept her little brother alive last year when he caught the measles. “Need help getting back?” Her gray eyes are scared but determined. - The subtle suggestion here that Leevy might be further motivated to help out because Katniss’s mom helped her little brother is also an excellent example of how kindness breeds kindness

“Get some snow on that,” Haymitch orders over his shoulder. I scoop up a handful of snow and press it against my cheek, numbing a bit of the pain. - This moment reminded me of Peeta immediately reaching for some ice from that fruit tureen after Haymitch hit him on their way to the Games in THG (Ch. 4) - their different immediate reactions to getting hit in the face could simply be due to the fact that Katniss is a little too preoccupied worrying about Gale to think about her injury, of course, but I feel like you could also interpret them as examples for how much experience Katniss and Peeta have with being hit in the face, respectively...

Gale must have gone to Cray’s house, as he’s done a hundred times, knowing Cray pays well for a wild turkey. Instead he found the new Head Peacekeeper, a man they heard someone call Romulus Thread. No one knows what happened to Cray. He was buying white liquor in the Hob just this morning [...] but now he’s nowhere to be found. - As I’ve already mentioned regarding Darius, inhabiting some position of power does not guarantee you any safety in Panem (there is always someone more powerful who will treat their inferiors like garbage, if they feel like it)

By the time I showed up, he [Gale]’d been lashed at least forty times. He passed out around thirty. - Jesus 😨 poor Gale!

“What about Darius?” Peeta asks.“ After about twenty lashes, he stepped in, saying that was enough. Only he didn’t do it smart and official, like Purnia did. He grabbed Thread’s arm and Thread hit him in the head with the butt of the whip. Nothing good waiting for him,” says Bristel. - It’s so messed up how it is not enough to have someone who’d stand up and do something about a horrible situation - they have to do it the right way, or else they’re toast; there really shouldn’t have to be a smart way of doing the right thing

Snow begins, thick and wet, making visibility even more difficult. - (President) Snow is coming down hard on them, making it hard to see what’s up ahead

Ever so gently, she [Mrs. Everdeen] begins to clean the mutilated flesh on Gale’s back. I feel sick to the stomach, useless, the remaining snow dripping from my glove into a puddle on the floor. Peeta puts me in a chair and holds a cloth filled with fresh snow to my cheek. - Although she’s quite squeamish, Katniss stays as Gale gets treated (the force that holds the loved ones of the hurt/dying, just like when Peeta was being treated after their Games); meanwhile, Peeta is taking care of Katniss - there is so much care + love to be found in this moment

My mother has to save the strongest [painkillers] for the worst pain, but what is the worst pain? To me, it’s always the pain that is present. If I were in charge, those painkillers would be gone in a day because I have so little ability to watch suffering. - Honestly, same; I can’t stomach seeing other people suffer without feeling overwhelmed and feeling like crying... I don’t know how professionals do it

“Just give him the medicine!” I scream at her. [...] “Take her out,” says my mother. Haymitch and Peeta literally carry me from the room while I shout obscenities at her. They pin me down on a bed in one of the extra bedrooms until I stop fighting. - Oof. Poor Katniss! But yeah, it was the best call to remove her from the situation, Mrs. E. had to focus on what she was doing... Also, Haymitch and Peeta are the ones to get Katniss out of there and stay with her - these three take care of each other!

After a while, my mother comes in and treats my face. Then she holds my hand, stroking my arm, while Haymitch fills her in on what happened with Gale. “So it’s starting again?” she says. “Like before?” - Katniss’s mom has become a much more active and soothing presence in this book, I like it... Also, what does “again” mean? Does this imply there has been an attempted uprising in D12 that needed to be squashed before?

Cray would have been disliked, anyway, because of the uniform he wore, but it was his habit of luring starving young women into his bed for money that made him an object of loathing in the district. In really bad times, the hungriest would gather at his door at nightfall, vying for the chance to earn a few coins to feed their families by selling their bodies. Had I been older when my father died, I might have been among them. - Horrifying and absolutely disgusting 🤢 Those poor women! How desperate they must have been! 

... when the doorbell rings, I shoot straight out of bed. [...] “They [the peacekeepers] can’t have him,” I say. “Might be you they’re after,” Haymitch reminds me. “Or you,” I say. “Not my house,” Haymitch points out. “But I’ll get the door.” “No, I’ll get it,” says my mother quietly. - Again, Mrs. Everdeen is taking the initiative! She was so watered down in the movies

[Madge] holds out a small, damp cardboard box to me. “Use these for your friend,” she says. I take off the lid of the box, revealing half a dozen vials of clear liquid. [...] “What is that stuff?” asks Peeta. “It’s from the Capitol. It’s called morphling,” my mother answers. “I didn’t even know Madge knew Gale,” says Peeta. “We used to sell her strawberries,” I say almost angrily. What am I angry about, though? Not that she has brought the medicine, surely. “She must have quite a taste for them,” says Haymitch. That’s what nettles me. It’s the implication that there’s something going on between Gale and Madge. And I don’t like it. “She’s my friend” is all I say. - I mean, Katniss could be mad because A) Gale had literally just told her he loved her a few hours ago and if there was something (reciprocated) going on between Gale and Madge, that would have been pretty shitty for both girls involved and also B) she is friends with both of them and it would be hurtful to learn that two of your closest friends had been seeing each other without telling you anything about it... also, she’s super upset over Gale getting so seriously hurt just after they’d had an argument, her feelings are all over the place

... I’m selfish. I’m a coward. I’m the kind of girl, who, when she might actually be of use, would run to stay alive and leave those who couldn’t follow to suffer and die. This is the girl Gale met in the woods today. No wonder I won the Games. No decent person ever does. You saved Peeta, I think weakly. But now I question even that. I knew good and well that my life back in District 12 would be unlivable if I let that boy die. - Yes, Katniss, you knew that your life back in D12 would have been unlivable if he died - but not because you feared that people would shun you; it was because you “couldn’t lose the boy with the bread” and because “if he dies, I’ll never go home, not really”... This is an excellent example of how distorted your memories can get when you are in a bad headspace at present

The berries. I realize the answer to who I am lies in that handful poisonous fruit. If I held them out to save Peeta because I knew I would be shunned if I came back without him, then I am despicable. If I held them out because I loved him, I am still self-centered, although forgivable. But if I held them out to defy the Capitol, I am someone of worth. - Katniss, you don’t have to be planning to overthrow a corrupt and cruel government to be someone of worth! You’re someone of worth just by being yourself! - The trouble is, I don’t know exactly what was going on inside me at that moment. - Frankly, very rarely are our motivations clearly defined by a single factor - or my professor would not have been able to teach an entire semester-long course on motivation psychology😉)

Chapter 9

Gale’s dead to the world, but his fingers are locked around mine. I smell fresh bread and turn my stiff neck to find Peeta looking down at me with such a sad expression. I get the sense that he’s been watching us awhile. “Go on up to bed, Katniss. I’ll look after him now,” he says. - Peeta! Must have been hard for him to see Katniss like this (and the underlying strength of Katniss and Gale’s relationship, when his relationship with Katniss is still not all that solidified), and yet he’s being such a good bean about it 😭

I give a strangled cry and wake with a start, sweating and shivering at once. Cradling my damaged cheek in my hand, I remind myself that it was not Clove but Thread who gave me this wound. I wish that Peeta were here to hold me, until I remember I’m not supposed to wish that anymore. I have chosen Gale and the rebellion, and a future with Peeta is the Capitol’s design, not mine. - Katniss, gurl... Maybe your instinctive desire to receive comfort from Peeta is trying to tell you something??!? Also, Katniss is forcing this strange dichotomous association of Gale = rebellion and Peeta = Capitol, when in just a bit, she’s clearly connecting Peeta to the rebellion as well (aside from the fact that Peeta was basically the first person to suggest to her that maybe a rebellion was necessary... just saying)

Fighting the Capitol assures their swift retaliation. I must accept that at any moment I can be arrested. [...] There might be torture. Mutliation. A bullet through the skull in the town square [...] I imagine these things and I’m terrified, but let’s face it: They’ve been lurking in the back of my brain, anyway. [...] I’m already a target. - Oh geez! Despite admitting that she’s terrified of what the Capitol is capable fo doing to her, Katniss is still pretty composed naming the possible horrors in store for her, which is just a heartbreaking reminder of how many terrible things she has already had to endure.🙁

Now comes the harder part. I have to face the fact that my family and friends might share this fate. Prim. I need only to think of Prim and all my resolve disintegrates. It’s my job to protect her. [...] I can’t let the Capitol hurt Prim. - 😭😭😭 Katniss has reached a point where she can put her own need for survival/physical intactness aside, but the thought of something awful happening to Prim stops her short (it’s so strange to think that, in a twisted way, it wasn’t the Capitol who’d ended up inflicting the final harm upon Prim...)

And then it hit’s me. They already have. They have killed her father in those wretched mines. They have sat by as she almost starved to death. [...] She has been hurt far worse than I had at the age of twelve. And even that pales in comparison with Rue’s life. [...] Prim... Rue... aren’t they the very reason I have to try to fight? Because what has been done to them is so wrong, so beyond justification, so evil that there is no choice? Because no one has the right to treat them as they have been treated? Yes. This is the thing to remember when fear threatens to swallow me up. What I am about to do, whatever any of us are forced to endure, it is for them. - All these things are very true and it’s also very fitting that the main motivation for Katniss would be to ensure a better future for the children of Panem (and to avenge the evils done to the people close to her heart... while Katniss of course can see the abstract bigger picture/reason for the rebellion, she always operates best when it comes to specific people/circumstances she has a deep, personal connection with)... But also: all these things apply to you, too, Katniss! Despite your tendency to feel responsible for everything and everyone, you’re still a child that had to grow up way too fast and had to endure way too much!

We need someone to direct us and reassure us this is possible. And I don’t think I’m that person. I may have been a catalyst for rebellion, but a leader should be someone with conviction, and I’m barely a convert myself. Someone with unflinching courage, and I’m still working hard at finding mine. Someone with clear and persuasive words, and I’m so easily tongue-tied. Words. I think of words and I think of Peeta. - Katniss’s idea of a great leader for the rebellion is Peeta - interesting, isn’t it (she could have considered Gale, but no)? She makes a good point, though: it helps when a leader has plenty of charisma, and our boy has that in spades; he’s got a good set of morals, is not above joining in on the action/risking his own neck when the need arises and is very genuine and purposeful with his words and actions, which is inspiring... I think Katniss is severely underselling how courageous she is, though

He could move a crowd to action, I bet, if he chose to. Would find the things to say. But I’m sure the idea has never crossed his mind. - Why would you assume that, Katniss? Peeta’s literally the one to suggest to you that trying to placate the district might not be the right thing to do... Peeta’s not someone who’d stir up trouble just for the sake of stirring up trouble, sure; he’s much more deliberate about doing things the ‘right’ way, but he’s not generally opposed to challenging authorities (he’s literally the one to openly gift some of your winnings to another district!)

She knows what she’s doing, my mother. I feel a pang of remorse about yesterday, the awful things I yelled at her as Peeta and Haymitch dragged me from the kitchen. “I’m sorry. About screaming at you yesterday.” - It’s so sweet how Katniss feels sorry for yelling at her mom and apologizes to her; their relationship really has improved so much in this book - “I’ve heard worse,” she says. “You’ve seen how people are, when someone they love is in pain.” Someone they love. [...] Of course, I love Gale. But what kind of love does she mean? What do I mean when I say I love Gale? I don’t know. I did kiss him last night, in a moment when my emotions were running so high. But i’m sure he doesn’t remember it. Does he? I hope not. - Katniss is struggling to figure out in what way she loves Gale... She definitely doesn’t want him to remember their kiss because she knows it wouldn’t be fair to give him the hope that she might be able to return his romantic feelings when she is still in the dark about her own

... and I can’t really think about kissing when I’ve got a rebellion to incite. I give my head a little shake to clear it. “Where’s Peeta?” I say. - Lol, goes on to immediately mention the guy she’s been kissing these past few weeks (see, with Peeta you could actually have both: kissing and rebellion, Katniss - he’s the perfect man, isn’t he? 😉😋)

“He went home when he heard you stirring. Didn’t want to leave his house unattended during the storm,” says my mother. - Yeah, I don’t think Peeta left because of his house; I’m pretty sure he needed some time to himself after seeing Katniss and Gale this morning - he is the type of person who needs to be alone to work through his feelings when he’s feeling upset - “Did he get back all right?” [...] “Why don’t you give him a call and check?” she says. I go into the study, a room I’ve pretty much avoided since my meeting with President Snow, and dial Peeta’s number. After a few rings he answers. “Hey. I just wanted to make sure you got home,” I say. “Katniss. I live three houses away from you,” he says. “I know, but with the weather and all,” I say. “Well, I’m fine. Thank you for checking.” There’s a long pause. “How’s Gale?” - Aww, Katniss is worried about Peeta and gives him a call, although she hates being in the study 😊 Also, her calling him must have been at least of some reassurance to Peeta that she genuinely cares about him, in some way (though, he’s still clearly busy processing her relationship with Gale, since he’s asking about him as if he hadn’t seen that dude just a couple of minutes prior)

“Have you seen Haymitch today?” “I checked in on him. Dead drunk. But I built up his fire and left him some bread,” he says. “I wanted to talk to - to both of you.” I don’t dare add more, here on my phone, which is surely tapped. -  Despite everything, Peeta still made sure to look after Haymitch! And I know, there is also the issue of their houses themselves potentially being bugged, but I couldn’t help imagining how they could easily avoid the whole phone-tapping thing simply by using a tin can telephone (they do live pretty close to each other, after all) 😂

“You don’t even have a phone,” I say. “Effie had that fixed,” he [Haymitch] says. “Do you know she asked me if I’d like to give you away? I told her the sooner the better.” “Haymitch.” I can hear the pleading creeping into my voice. “Katniss.” He mimics my tone. “It won’t work.” - Okay, but Haymitch mimicking Katniss’s tone reminds me so much of when Peeta mimicked her tone towards the end of their Games, when she was trying to persuade him to climb into a tree as a lookout while he was insistent she’d show him some plants to gather; these three, I swear! 😂 On a sad note, Haymitch is talking from experience here when he’s advising Katniss not to challenge the Capitol 🥺😢

Some streets away from the square, I see a blaze flare up. None of us has to say it. That can only be the Hob going up in smoke. I think of Greasy Sae, Ripper, all my friends who make their livings there. - Katniss considers the people from the Hob her friends - honestly, even if the Hawthornes, Everdeens, Peeta and Haymitch all had agreed to leave D12, I don’t think Katniss would have been able to go through with it - she cares too much about the people in D12 to have been able to leave them to their fate

“Well, I better go see how much rubbing alcohol the apothecary can spare.” He [Haymitch] trudges off across the square and I look at Peeta. “What’s he want that for?” Then I realize the answer. “We can’t let him drink it. He’ll kill himself, or at the very least go blind. I’ve got some white liquor put away at home.” “Me, too. Maybe that will hold him until Ripper finds a way to be back in business,” says Peeta. - Another instance of Katniss and Peeta being on the same wavelength, having taken precautions to help out Haymitch so he doesn’t have to go cold turkey again

We find Hazelle in her house, nursing a very sick Posy. I recognize the measles spots. “I couldn’t leave her,” she says. “I knew Gale’d be in the best possible hands.” - The second mention of someone having contracted the measles in D12 - Why the heck does the Capitol withhold measles vaccination from the people in the districts?! They’re inflicting unnecessary damage onto the very people they want to exploit... But I guess cruelty isn’t always about playing it smart and logical...

When we’re outside, I turn to Peeta. “You go on back. I want to walk by the Hob.” “I’ll go with you,” he says. “No. I’ve dragged you into enough trouble,” I tell him. “And avoiding a stroll by the Hob... that’s going to fix things for me?” He smiles and takes my hand. - They are a team, they stick together (and they are constantly holding hands, always physically linked to each other)😩💕 Also, Peeta pointing out the irrationality of Katniss’s train of thought to calm her down and stay with her reminds me of how he’s going to use logical reasoning to calm her down after the jabberjays in the Quarter Quell arena

We go back to the square. I buy some cakes from Peeta’s father while they exchange small talk about the weather. No one mentions the ugly tools of torture just yards from the front door. The last thing I notice as we leave the square is that I do not recognize even one of the Peacekeepers’ faces. - How weird is it that Peeta and his dad just talk about the weather?! Is this supposed to illustrate how in the Mellark family they just ignored the ugliness going on in their lives *cough cough* the abuse *cough cough* and just pretended that everything was fine, on a very superficial level? Also, it makes perfect sense that the Peacekeepers have been exchanged; the more time we spend with people, the more likely we are to like them - that won’t do if you want to have a ruthless authoritarian police force in the districts

As the days pass, things go from bad to worse. The mines stay shut for two weeks, and by that time half of District 12 is starving. The number of kids signing up for tesserae soars, but they often don’t receive their grain. Food shortages begin, and even those with money come away from stores empty-handed. [...] The eagerly awaited food promised for Parcel Day arrives spoiled and defiled by rodents. - This is just so awful and despicable 😞 Life in the districts was already horrible but now the government does not even honor the extortionary rules they themselves have set up! I can’t help but wonder if the lack of food could be traced back to rebellions in the food supplying districts and, to keep this from the inhabitants of the Capitol, the reduced amount of good food was (obviously) kept for the Capitolites, so that the bad food had to be sent to the districts, anyway... It just seems like such a breach of ‘honor’/etiquette on the Capitol’s part, I dunno... Or maybe Snow was just desperate to use any means necessary to stamp out any potential rebellions in the districts that he still had some control over...

Gale goes home with no more talk of rebellion between us. But I can’t help thinking that everything he sees will only strengthen his resolve to fight back. [...] Rory has signed up for tesserae, something Gale can’t even speak about - Poor, Gale! Poor Hawthornes :(

My fingers have all but decided to release the arrow when I see the object in the glove. It’s a small white circle of flat bread. More of a cracker, really. Gray and soggy around the edges. But an image is clearly stamped in the center of it. It’s my mockingjay. - It is so very telling that the true symbol of the rebellion combines something symbolic of Katniss (which also contains a nod to Rue) and something symbolic of Peeta (the bread/cracker!) The people in the districts have rightfully recognized the both of them as symbol of the rebellion; they have a truer vision of the matter than the more artifically/forcefully constructed symbol of rebellion that D13 /Coin will push - we will also see that when the people in D13 will view Peeta as a traitor, while the rebels Katniss will visit in D8 instead ask her about Peeta and assure her that they know he was speaking under duress

[spikeface]

2021 Fic In Review

I was tagged by the lovely @scribeoffate a while ago, but wanted to wait until I’d posted my final fic of the year to do this.

Total number of completed works:

10. Very pleased with this number.

Total word count:

135313

Fandoms written in:

Teen Wolf. My obsession continues apace.

Looking back, did you write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you’d expected?

Much less--which is weird, given that I published a lot more than I ever have in a year. My three longest fics wound up taking a lot longer than I thought they would, and not just because I’m bad at estimating how long things take. I wrote the first two chapters of the family of things in a matter of weeks, for instance, but the last three took six months. In the immortal words of Derek Hale, it happens.

What’s your own favorite story of the year?

Probably the family of things (Scott/Theo), if only because it’s my longest love letter to the characters.

Did you take any writing risks this year?

If I can brag for a second, I feel like I took a bunch of different risks, and am happy with all of them. beast in the echo (Stiles/Derek) is my most ambitious fic to date in terms of length, and has OCs and a couple of hard sells baked into the premise, and it’s a sequel to a very dark AU from 2014.

I also tried to push myself to write outside of my traditional comfort zone of, uh, dark pornography. I’ve written plottier fics before, as well as gen fic and fic with minor characters, but I did more of that than ever this year. I think the biggest risk there was to my ego, though. Because I usually write niche porn, I’m used to a smaller audience, but this was still a challenge. Like anyone who’s fifty chihuahuas in a trenchcoat, I enjoy attention, and this fandom is not interested in anything that doesn’t meet a very narrow set of criteria. I knew that going in, and wanted to do my thing anyway, and feel very lucky to have found a bunch of fans who are smart, kind, and generous readers. A meaty comment is worth ten thousand kudos, in my opinion, and every fic I’ve published this year has gotten wonderful responses from people I love talking to.

In terms of storytelling and trusting the reader, the fabulists (Scott/Stiles) and my latest, the boy who swallowed the earth (Scott/Theo), are probably the biggest risks. the fabulists is about seeing someone imperfectly, over and over, which is always a risky thing to try to convey, but it felt especially so in this fandom, which tends to be either disinterested or frankly incapable of seeing Scott clearly. the boy who swallowed the earth uses multiple timelines to tell a story, including one where the POV is heavily drugged. It also tackles the inherent tension in Sceo in a different way than the family of things did. I’m pleased with myself about both of them.

Do you have any fanfic or profic goals for the new year?

I’m almost done with the next ten chapters of beast in the echo and want to finish my next Sceo longfic, which I made a lot of plotting headway with for NaNoWriMo. I’d like to do NaNoWriMo again. I’m also aiming to make bingo with Scottuary. Also, I owe @scribeoffate decadent Scott/Deucalion filth.

Most popular story of the year?

the family of things, though that might be partly because it was first published in January.

Story of mine most under-appreciated by the universe, in my opinion:

anarchitecture (Stiles/Jackson), I suppose, but I think there are comparatively fewer fans of Jackson who are also familiar with or interested in season 5, and it’s a weird mix of character study and smut, so it was always going to be a long shot. Also, it’s about eroticizing your own trauma. But I maintain it’s good. Stiles has very sexy hands and wears gloves about it. What else can a reader ask for??

Most fun story to write:

Probably either silence stands like heat (Hayden&Scott) or damage control (Violet&Erica), both of which were explorations of characters I hadn’t spent much time with previously, but whom I’ve really come to love, in part because they’re faves of fandom friends. I like exploring minor characters with comparatively little content for them, especially when I know they’re someone else’s favorites.

Most unintentionally telling story:

I’m not sure how to answer this question. “Unintentionally telling” suggests that the story got out of my control to be more about me than the characters, which is a pet peeve of mine. My personal life informs my writing, of course, but I try to make it intentional.

Biggest disappointment:

A toss up between damnatio memoriae (Scott&Rafael), which was supposed to be part of a longer work, and the prince of objects (Scott&Deucalion), which was initially meant to be longer, and a more dedicated exploration of Deucalion’s time with Theo, and Scott’s thoughts on it. I’m happy, though, that I published both of them--and that I let go of the more ambitious version of them I’d initially planned in order to do so.

Biggest surprise:

I didn’t expect to write many of my fics this year, especially the ones written as gifts or for events. The most pleasant surprise, though, was probably people who said they got into Sceo more--or at least started to think about it--as a result of reading my work, which makes me SO happy.

I don’t remember who has already been tagged with this one. If it shows up on your dash, I’d love to see your answers. Yes, you!!

[erekiosuncreativeideas]

Being Human - Chapter 01

Summary : "It was too much for Snatcher. He had no idea what was happening, what was going on around him. He felt something pounding inside him, fast, with a panicked rhythm. His horror came back at full force when he understood what it was.

This was his heart, beating inside his chest, defying every possible logical explanation. The ghost had come back to life."

Snatcher breaks a Time Piece and has to face the consequences.

Also available on AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/24826561/chapters/60051049

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New fanfiction ! I wanted to try something completely new and... Here it is ! I hope you'll like it ! Don't hesitate to tell me if you liked this first chapter ! I have two more finished, but I want to try to keep a few in advance !

The "Oh The Humanity" AU belongs to @doodledrawsthings​ ! (AMAZING AU !!!)

Happy reading !

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Chapter 01 - “What did you do to me?” 

Becoming a human again was certainly something Snatcher would have never expected. If he had to be completely honest, if someone had told him it would happen to him, he would have probably laughed in their face… And would have eaten their soul afterwards. However, his afterlife had been nothing but a mess since the moment those brats had come into his life. Fallen from the sky, just like their magical hourglasses, those kids had made his life pure hell. Just like his usual victims, the spirit had forced them to sign his contracts, giving up their souls to him. At first, everything was going well, except for most of their pestering… But then, when the time had come to kill them, the ghost had made a huge mistake.

He had forgotten how truly magical those Time Pieces were. When the kids had defeated him, crushing his pride as he was forced to hand over his last time artefact… The shade had thrown it to them mindlessly, just thinking about how he wanted them to leave him alone. However, what he didn’t expect was to hear the sound of breaking glass as the item hit the ground. The kids’ face crumpled as the noise echoed all around them and, soon, a white flash blinded the trio. An overwhelming sound resonated in Snatcher’s mind, like a ringing noise becoming louder and louder. His ghostly form was suddenly submerged by a lot of unknown sensations as it started to distort itself. It was weird, it was unpleasant and it was painful. A scream left his mouth as he felt his spectral body changing on its own, making him suffer greatly. It felt so much different than the pain he had experienced while fighting the two children… And yet, somehow, it all felt terribly familiar.

The shade’s body hit the ground, falling after he had stopped floating in the air for some reason. His mind was full of static noise and he barely registered the pain because of it. He couldn’t help but curl up and tremble while he was drowning under so many new sensations. He was probably pathetic, yet the spirit didn’t care. This was absolute torture, it was too much, too much!

His hands grabbed his head, trying to cover his ears as a desperate attempt at blocking the ringing noise. But then, the ghost froze completely. His… Ears? The thought made his entire body grow cold, but it was nothing compared to the realization that his fingers didn’t meet his spectral form.

Instead, they met soft and curly hair.

The shock was enough to bring Snatcher back to reality. He opened his eyes despite the pain attacking his brain and nothing, absolutely nothing could have prepared him for what he had to see. He was lying on the ground, shaking like a leaf. He brought back his hands to examine them and oh- those weren’t his hands. An expression of complete horror appeared on his face as he observed the meaty hands in front of him. When he bent each one of the fingers, his terror intensified: he was controlling them. They were connected to arms, meaty arms, which were both connected to him as well. His entire body had nothing to do with his ghostly form anymore. His tail had disappeared, replaced by two legs he couldn’t control very well.

Oh God, no, no, no, this couldn’t be happening. A cry left his mouth and, soon, a burning sensation erupted inside of his chest. Panic settled over him as he grasped at his sides, not knowing what could possibly hurt him so much. He felt like he was dying, again, it hurt, it hurt so much, oh God…!

He suddenly felt two small hands grab his shoulders -ah, what a funny thing to have in the afterlife!-, shaking him back and forth, as a voice forced him to focus on the present. He barely heard his name and other words he had trouble to understand.

-“Breathe!” the voice said, but Snatcher didn’t hear it right the first time. All he knew was that it hurt, it burnt, it was compressing his chest so, so much. The shaking became stronger, faster, and soon, the ghost’s attention turned to the person who was ordering him to breathe. His eyes widened when he saw the hatted brat, crying as she was holding him. Behind her, the shade could see her best friend, looking panicked. When the spirit’s eyes met hers, she quickly joined her hatted friend and, soon, the ghost felt her hands taking his.

The contact was so strange, so soft, so warm…!

-“Snatcher!” screamed the other little girl as she shook him even more: “Open your pecking mouth and breathe!”

The pain was unbearable but, somehow, he finally managed to understand what she was trying to tell him and, not thinking anymore, he just opened his mouth. Survival instincts he thought he didn’t have anymore took over, pushing his rational mind on the side as air filled his lungs. It was weird, it felt strange, it felt so unnatural, and yet… It eased the pain in his chest. The ghost’s stare was lost into space as he felt his body acting on its own, trying to survive.

It was too much for Snatcher. He had no idea what was happening, what was going on around him. He felt something pounding inside him, fast, with a panicked rhythm. His horror came back at full force when he understood what it was.

This was his heart, beating inside his chest, defying every possible logical explanation.

The ghost had come back to life.

Snatcher’s panic was at its highest when the realization hit him hard, like a violent wave knocking him down: he was alive. The thought seemed so absurd, so stupid! How could he be alive when he knew very well he had died hundreds of years ago? He was there, he could testify! And yet, here he was, rocking back and forth as he kept breathing, with a chaotic rhythm.

Everything was just so unbearable. The contact of the clothes against his skin, the feeling of the air caressing his face, the touch of the kids on his body, the feeling of the air passing inside his throat as he filled his lungs, the smells of the forest… He could feel his heart pounding in his chest repeatedly, loud and hard, the pulsations spreading everywhere in his body, but mostly his temples. It hurt so much. The ghost felt like someone was hitting the sides of his brain with a bat, again and again and again… Each sound he was hearing intensified his suffering and, soon, he had to close his eyes, unable to bear any more sensations. The gesture was so foreign to him and was mostly done on instinct. Knowing he had eyelids again… This seemed like a detail and yet it was not. As a ghost, when he closed his eyes, it was just black, pure darkness. Now… He could see the light passing through the thin skin of his eyelids.

He was still seeing something. It just never stopped.

Saliva was piling up in his mouth and he had no idea what to do about it. The idea of having a whole mouth again, a tongue, teeth, a palate, a throat…! It was absolutely surreal. Well, the whole situation was, in fact.

The thought made him freeze suddenly: why did it happen in the first place? His eyes glanced everywhere, trying to find an explanation. As for his mind, it was trying its best to ignore all the new feelings he was experiencing, including the sensation of his eyes moving around. It felt so foreign, so… Disgusting.

His eyes fell on the broken Time Piece on the ground and, all of a sudden, everything just made sense. How did he not understand right away? He wondered, fear and confusion quickly replaced by rage and anger. He lifted his head, staring at the little girls comforting him, clenching his teeth as a single thought echoed in his mind.

Of course, it had to be their fault.

-“What-” the ghost coughed, the saliva in his mouth entering his throat in the wrong way. He had to spit what was left in his mouth to the ground, having no idea how to swallow yet. The kids were watching him carefully, a look of worry and fear on their face as he started to speak again, his voice very low: “What did you do to me?”

His throat vibrated as he said those words, almost making him cough again. It was just so weird.

In front of him, the kids looked at each other with confusion, as if they didn’t understand what he had meant. Snatcher’s rage grew at the observation: oh, so they didn’t get what he was asking? Then he would make them, he thought, threateningly.

-“I swear…” he started once more, a growl in his voice, glaring at the children with fury: “If you don’t tell me what happened or even try to reverse this whole thing… I will kill you both.”

A look of realization crossed the kids’ features at his words. The bow-wearing kid frowned, ready to talk back, but the hatted brat cut her short, even more outraged than her best friend:

-“I’m sorry? You broke the Time Piece!” she retorted, letting go of him and placing both of her hands to her hips: “We didn’t do anything!”

-“You know,” added the other child, in a calmer yet judgemental tone: “you could have given it to us directly instead of throwing it over like that…”

The ghost clenched his jaw harder. Oh, so this was his fault? He let out a dark and raspy laugh at the idea. How hilarious. He opened his mouth again to talk, but another fit of coughing forced him to clench his sides. It hurt. Everything was so intense, so overwhelming, so loud, so painful. He didn’t feel any of that when he was dead! And now it was just so deafening, so crushing!

-“Change… Change it back!” he ordered, having to spit more saliva to the ground not to choke himself with it again. His voice sounded so different to his usual one. First of all, it didn’t have any echo, and second… It sounded much too familiar to him.

It sounded just like when he was alive. Which… Was now the case, again. The thought made him sick. He pleaded any God listening to make this moment as short as possible. He just wanted to be back in his old spectral form, the one he was used to, the one who he felt safe with.

In front of him, the kids frowned, as a look of awkwardness appeared on their face. This made the ghost terribly uncomfortable because it just gave him a very bad feeling about his current situation. They both turned to the Time Piece behind them, which wasn’t broken anymore. When the brats glanced back at him, somehow, the spirit had already guessed what they were about to say.

And he really, really didn’t want to hear it.

-“We…” stuttered the older child, the hatted one, as she was looking for her words. She didn’t seem to find them and her best friend took over, trying to find the best way to announce the bad news to him:

-“We can’t... I’m sorry,” she said, softly, putting her hand on his shoulder, rubbing it gently. It felt awful, the contact was too strong for Snatcher, It was too sensitive, he could even hear the rustling sound of the fabric against her skin! It was loud, too loud.

The words hit Snatcher like a wave, like a violent wave crushing all his hopes down to nothing. They couldn’t. That’s what they had replied to his wish to go back to normal.

They couldn’t.

A nervous laugh left his lips as his brain slowly registered what it all entailed. His laugh quickly died as his mind conjured Moonjumper’s face. Oh, God, how was he going to explain this to him… They didn’t have the best of the relationships and, well, the shade was mostly at fault for that. He had always disliked the other, not knowing exactly why. Perhaps it was because Moonjumper had stolen his body, perhaps it was because the latter had his memories yet wasn’t him. Or, perhaps…

He just hated to look at another version of himself, one that reminded him of his awful and terrifying past. How ironic! Now that he was back in his old body, fully alive, the situation had changed completely!

The spirit didn’t really want the other to see him like this now. He was already dealing with too many things at the moment…

Another thought hit him: what about his minions? How would he even explain that to them? How would they react? They were all a bunch of dead kids, who knew how they would react! There were so many of them and he had no idea how much they would freak out over this whole situation. As for him, he was freaking out a lot. However, another face came to his mind and his became deadly pale.

Vanessa. If he was alive again, he wouldn’t have any powers to fight back against her and the spread of the ice to the forest… This was an absolute nightmare, this couldn’t be happening, this just couldn’t be happening!

His breath rhythm quickened as he started to hyperventilate. His heartbeat followed his panic and he couldn’t help but bring a hand to his chest, grabbing at the fabric of his shirt. A feeling of utter distress engulfed him as he felt an immense fear settling over him. Oh God, what was going to happen now that Subcon was defenceless against the one who had murdered everyone? How would he be able to protect Subcon Forest in this useless and meaty body? He didn’t have his powers anymore, he could feel they were gone! All the souls he had consumed had vanished, as if he had never eaten any! He just felt his heart pounding in his chest, heard the same and awful ringing sound in his mind as it was blinded by so many sensations again. His muscles were growing cold from the shock and he started to tremble again.

This just couldn’t be.

He felt his body being shaken back and forth again, forcing him to pull himself together. In front of him, the older hatted brat was staring at him, worried, just like her younger friend, who started to rub his shoulder again.

-“Snatcher! Snap out of it!” said the hatted kid, very much afraid for him.

-“No…” he murmured, anger slowly replaced by despair: “No, no, no!” he screamed, hating how much his voice sounded so unnatural and human contrary to his usual one: “I can’t be alive again! I can’t be like this!” He yelled, gesturing at himself with a mix of horror and disgust. Snatcher needed to be dead in order to protect Subcon. If he was a human again… How would he be able to fight against Vanessa? Against her magic? Even the littlest problem would become a dangerous threat for the entire forest if he wasn’t there to protect it!

This was the worst possible scenario.

-“I’m sorry…” sympathized the bow-wearing child, still rubbing his shoulder as a way to comfort him. The hatted one was just staring at him, visibly upset, feeling hopeless.

Snatcher shut his eyes hard and clenched his fists, before stopping quickly: the sensation of his nails penetrating his skin was just awful and painful. Everything just hurt too much. Slowly, he felt something leaking from his eyes and he brought his hands to his face, not knowing what it was at first. When his fingers touched his wet cheeks, the realization hit him: he was crying. He, the powerful soul-stealing ghost, who had killed hundreds of people in centuries, was crying! This was just hilarious. How ironic!

… How pitiful.

He let out an insincere and dark laugh at the thought, but it soon transformed into disgusting sobs. He could feel his nose getting stuffed up from the crying and there was a lump in his throat. He tried to stop himself from sobbing even more, because it was just ridiculous and it would absolutely not help him the sightless… Yet, he couldn’t help but let other tears roll onto his cheeks. They were so cold on his skin, even more as the wind caressed his face again.

Why? Why was this happening? Why did it have to happen to him?

More sobs left his mouth as he curled up again, his forehead hitting the ground as he let himself fall forward. He couldn’t hold back the crying, no matter how much he wanted it, how much he found himself utterly pathetic for having such a meltdown, how much he was so weak when he needed to be strong…

The tears just wouldn’t stop.

He soon felt two sets of arms trying to hug him despite his uncomfortable position. But the comfort only made it worse. Snatcher didn’t want to be touched right now. All he wanted was to be dead again!

But apparently life had other plans for him.

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=> Chapter 2

[imagine-loki]

Blood Dahlia

TITLE: Blood Dahlia  CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 1 AUTHOR: Flowerhoe  ORIGINAL IMAGINE:  Imagine you're an assassin in an omegaverse that's been hired to kill Loki but he catches you. Instead of killing or imprisoning you, he binds you to Asgard as one of his personal guards under both princely and alpha authority, hoping to cure his boredom by watching you slowly lose your mind being stuck in his presence. RATING:  Overall: M Current Chapter: PG

NOTES/WARNINGS: This is my first fanfic in a loooooong time so bear with me. I’m new to submissions but hopefully all goes well and you guys can enjoy my stories. 

I occasionally live-write and you can access the google doc here. You can check it whenever for updates or you can pm me and I can add you to a ping list for when I decide to live-write. Emjoy!

~~~~

  The backwater bars of the galaxy always smelled the same, the scent of piss and cheap ale rising up from the often basement level pubs like smog. Dahlia had come to enjoy these places, seeing as they existed in every realm, they were as if home followed her. Now, whether backwater pubs feeling like home was a good thing was up for speculation, but was a concern she generally ignored.

Other than ordinarily enjoying not being sober, places like this were prime spots for hunting contracts, especially on Vanaheim’s less than lucrative market which drew in smaller but far more simple cases; the most exciting thing you’d usually find in Vanaheim as an assassin were back-alley squabbles and the occasional intimidation job. While small talent gigs generally paid less, there were plenty to be found to make up for the lack of effort they required, as well as the pay difference. 

“Hey Daffodil,” a scruffy-looking Vanir manning the rugged bar chuffed, waiting to continue until she met his eyes.

“It’s Dahlia.”

“Yeah yeah, Dandelion. Look, you’ve been here for hours and ordered one drink. If you keep holding up the bar I’m gonna have to ask you to switch to a table or somethin.” Dahlia just waved the man off, flicking a gold piece across the counter in annoyance. The bartender grumbled, slapping a meaty hand over the coin and dragging it away. “Better keep ordering,” the Vanir groused as he sloshed another tankard her way, nearly hitting her in the chest with the cheap ale within. Dahlia shot him a glare, catching it right before it could ruin her currently dry clothes. “I’m waiting for contracts. I’ll order when I order.”

“Contracts, aye?” the bartender huffed, dropping a few glasses into a tub of gray day-old dishwater. “There’s a Sakaarian that dropped off a datalink looking for someone to take up a job. People’ve been rejecting it for days. I haven’t seen it but it seems like it pays well. I’ll forward the contract your way,” he hummed, nodding towards the datapad on her arm before tapping something behind the counter. 

Dahlia looked down at her arm as the device beeped, tapping the notification that popped up on its surface. Of the many contracts Dahlia had been offered, this one was by far the only one with that many zeros in the pay bar. Unsurprisingly, the zeros had been the first thing she’d seen, instilling a giddy bit of excitement in her; with this kind of money, she’d be able to retire at the ripe old age of nine hundred and thirty-four. Well, retire for the next thousand years or so. Sadly, the next thing she saw was the name a few lines above that wonderfully long series of numbers, Loki Laufeyson. By instinct Dahlia almost hit reject immediately, stopping herself halfway through the motion; those were a lot of zeros.

“Who’d you say offered the contract?” the Asgardian asked, tearing her eyes from the name long enough to meet the Vanir’s gaze. He just shrugged, beginning to wipe the counter with a dirty rag.

“Some Sakaarian. Didn’t leave a name. That serious huh? The rest of em just rejected and left in a tizzy. Gave a generous tip.“ Dahlia could hear the tone in his voice with the last part, feeling the directed intent he put behind it. He continued when she didn’t react. “I don’t read the contracts on principle, but whatever’s on there gotta be pretty serious to spook off so many of you folks.” 

The Asgardian just hummed, downing her drink quickly and standing from her stool. And turning to leave. “Thanks. Though I’d start reading your contracts if I were you. You’d get tried for treason if anyone with any common sense found out this kind of contract cycled through here.” The bartender just shrugged and went back to wiping the counter, apparently having heard similar before. 

Stepping out of the dank pub Dahlia made her way up the steps and over to where she’d hitched her horse, untying the large stallion and swinging into the saddle. Once the pair had left the village proper Dahlia zoned out into her datapad, eyes locked between the zeros and the name. In truth, she was tempted to ask Átthagi what he thought of the job. She knew the horse had no answers, but he’d been along for so many of her money-guided escapades she was sure if he could talk he’d have something to say about the matter. 

On one hand, she was Asgardian, and a well-trained one at that; she’d have easier access to the palace than most. On another, she was Asgardian; if she did this, she’d never be able to go back home again. Of course, that point was moot given just how many zeros were in that pay bar. She wouldn’t really need to come back to Asgard with that much money in her pockets. That didn’t really cover just how far Asgard would extend its power to find her should she kill their prince. Then again, this was Loki. 

Dahlia hadn’t been home in years, favoring the other realms to fill her time and her pockets as compared to the dreariness of Asgard. For some of the other races, Asgard seemed like a paradise of plenty, filled with bountiful feasts and general prosperity. While all of this was reality, Asgard never seemed to change much. Yes, there was an occasional royal scandal or other realmly rabble-rousers, the planet itself was stuck in endless repetition and had been since the fall of Hela. While the peace was nice, Asgard was no home for someone like her. 

She sighed, looking at the datapad again. Fuck it, she thought, pushing the green-hued accept button. She might as well go out with a bang with billions of units on the line than die in some back-alley dump with only a couple hundred to her name. 

[femdomwriter]

"PUSSY FREE"

Introduction :

This fantasy story is dedicated to a hot and beautiful lady I had a chance to chat with on reddit, she goes by the name "massageherkelly".

The story will have many chapters as we follow the journey of Filip and finally his encounter with Dr. Kelly Cooper that will transform his life.

Chapter 1. ( Porn addict )

Filip was exhausted after another long goon session, sitting in front of the screen with a cock in his left hand, he thought about how whoever made those memes where the guys right arm is pumped and full of muscles while the left one is more like skin and bones, had no clue that most of porn addicted fist pumping gooners have their left arms doing the work while the right hand is there to scroll endless images and videos, for hours that left hand stroke and edges, squires the life out of the those inferior dicks that are mostly pussyfree.

The room was semi dark, he always felt like some creature in the cave that lives a virtual sexuality, this was one of the porn sessions he did naked with only pants on him that he throw on the side as the session got heated, right about that time where one of the dark haired porn girls on the screen got fucked in a doggy so hard by this big cock stud, as she was moaning "fuck me harder daddy" Filip was torturing his dick while riding that edge, and just when this alpha stud fucked her to the point she got orgasmic tremors, Filip was on the brink of exploding, but he waited for the final act of the scene, he couldn't handle it, that is why he has his right hand on a mouse, he fast forward till the moment she's on her knees, he observed her face of pure awe and delirium as she was waiting for that big cock to release his thick seed all over her face, they say porn is mostly act but Filip was not deluding himself, the chemistry between that guy and this smoking hot girl was so intense that he felt like a total inferior loser who will never experienced a glimpse of that attention and lust woman has for a real man.

He finally bursted all over her face, she continues to suck and worship his huge meaty cock, kissing it and licking every last drop from her face, and in that moment Filip grabs a napkin and cums inside of it, he usually uses napkin or goes to a toilet, in both ways, his cum always gets flushed down the toilet, like it's worthless and insignificant, what an irony he thought to himself.

While real men get to spray hot girls faces, he sprays his napkin or directly to the toilet, it's like each time he flushes the water he proved once again he's out of a gene pool.

Filip stood up from his cum stained chair and took a slow turn on the right side where there's a mirror attached on his closet.

He suddenly took a good look at himself, and he didn't like the imagine, it's been years since he hit the gym, he wasn't fat but he started to look like a guy who never lift a weight, sad for the guy who played football all through out his teenage years till early 20's, he was standing there stripped with the shame, and it felt like time has stopped while the mind started to throw truth pills at him, about his looks, but most importantly about the thing between his legs and the fact that he never got even touched by a woman, virgin at 34, that is 6 years away from 40 year old virgin movie that he watched and laughed about it back then, guess who's laughing now? Nobody

Even since the football days he avoided taking showers around anyone, he noticed right at that time something is not right there, his thing looked so tiny compared to his team mates.

Filip never wanted to measure his dick, he did years after, when he was 30, can you imagine a guy who didn't measure his cock till he was 30 years old? Well here you have it, Filip was that guy.

He lied to himself his cock was a grower, that it look small flaccid but grown to nice level fully erect, although he covered him fully with a firm grip, but from his point of you it didn't look so bad, if he ignored it flaccid, and also, he didn't like to look himself at a mirror, he avoided it.

It was only years later when some events happend that pushed him to get a tape measure and finally reveal the truth of what size he's packing down there.

It took place four years ago and it pushed Filip to some different perspective while viewing porn, ever since than he started to somehow get fueled by patheticsm and inferiority that kept growing to unreal levels, levels that he decided to contact one of the best therapists in the city, Dr. Kelly Cooper, a therapist for mens issues, dating problems, sexual problems.

It took him a lot of courage to make that decision and through the mutual friend he got recommendation for the best of them all, Dr. Cooper.

But before that, we need to go back in time, to Filips breaking point that made his self esteem and dignity finally collapse harder than a sand castle.

It was summer day, exactly 4 years ago, few days after his 30th birthday, and Filip was invited to this beach party by some of his high-school friends that he didn't saw since time they were teenager's. 

They were losers in high-school just like him, dreaming about banging hot girls while consuming tons of porn behind the closed doors, listening to stories of what these girls been doing on parties and how they went from one guy to another, and if there was no porn, to Filip and his friends, girls would be most innocent angels who don't know what sex is, but pornography was like a wake up call, in a sense that there are girls who actually fuck, and not just that, they do filthiest most unimaginable sex acts with pleasure.

Filip just like his group of friends back in high-school and college days were coping hard by stating how porn is a fantasy, and that most girls are not really into sex, I mean obviously they're not since they never showed any interest towards them.

Those stories of how slutty high school and college girls are were just rumors, but nothing real, at least a extreme exaggeration, that is what they believed.

It was only years later with the rise of the onlyfans and similar platforms that Filip had a wake up call, girls fuck like nymphos, models, library girls, your friends mom, every woman loves sex, but not with any men, not with Filip, that's for sure.

The fact women are so crazy and wild made Filip feel deep despair and agony, these were not just porn girls, these are all girls, and it was a shock because to be a pussyfree porn addict in a world where all girls fuck like crazy made him ruined deep inside, like he was not a man, like he had nothing to offer.

Anyway back to the story that changed Filip and unleashed something that was already building up within him for a long time.

Filip gathered with his high school buddies at this beach bar during a beautiful sunny summer day.

They were drinking cocktails and watching hot girls walking around the beach, showing off their sun tanned bodies, teasing and flirting with guys, and as always nothing has changed for any of his friends, they were always spectators but never participators, at least not when it comes to anything that was related to sex.

One of his friends ( Simon ) got married, and it was a mistery how managed to achieve that, he met his wife in church, she is 9 years older than him.

He told Filip how first and last times his buddies made a joke about her when they said "is she your mom or wife" ended when he replied "at least I'm no longer pussy free loser addicted to porn"

It was a moment of silence and huge laugh while Simon observed Filip in a sense that he now wanted to know what's going on with his dating life.

"Man I'm glad we're here after all these years, how long has gone? 11 fucking years man, what's up with you? Dating someone?"

It was a hot summer day but Filip was sweating way more because of how much shame he felt while thinking about having a long term girlfriend, he wasn't a good liar so he went with a simple answer....that he just ended a long relationship. 

In all the embarrassment Filip took a cocktail and three beers within half an hour, he needed to go to toilet, and as he was confused and just a bit drunk he went to a women's bathroom without even realizing it.

And of course as always he went inside the bathroom and lock the door, he never took a piss in one of those exposed pissoars out of fear someone might see his thing.

Suddenly he heard two girls entereding the toilet, the seemed a bit drunk and laughing in good mode, and then one of the girls said :

"Omg Jessica I can't believe we'll do this, oh he's so fucking hot and he has a cock of gods"

"Yes, he's a fucking daddy, well see who's gonna deepthroat him harder"

"My pussy throbs when I think about him, when does Jason arrives?

"Mine too, 20 minutes and he's here, we're such sluts since forever , but this, sharing my new boyfriend"

"And we're we gonna share him"

They both giggled in euphoria, while Filip remained silent in total shock, judging by how they sound these girls were in their late teens or early 20's, and they sounded so hot that Filip simply had to open a door to take a peekd

He needed to see the girls so he can point to his friends later a conversation he heard, he felt so out of his mind and excited that he just opened the door and apologized to the girls:

"Oh....sorry...I got bit drunk and thought this was a men's bathroom"

Girls looked at him like they gonna murder him, that look of disgust and pitty, it felt like they are looking at him like he's the worthless specimen, Filip felt that so he continued:

"Girls I apologize, it wasn't on purpose and trust I...."

One of the girls cut him in the middle of the sentence:

"Whatever weirdo, get out of the bathroom already"

On his way one of the girls told to other how she's gonna call Amanda and tell her how they got stalked by some ugly old guy.

Filip was feeling like total piece of shit, ugly? And old? 30 years old is old? Wtf is wrong with these girls.

They were both top stunners, hot bodies and those porn type faces, and they could be around 19 years old.

"They called me a an old stalker, well at least I'm gonna prove the other part to be right.

Filip decided to follow these two girls in hope he's gonna see for the first time in his life a real time action, a porn in real life, something new, exciting, and although he was a shy tipe person, he's curiosity pushed him.

To be continued....

[champion-of-thedas]

The Negative Arc of Ennio Salieri

After this past chapter of Eating Alone, I’ve thought a lot about Don Salieri and how I’m interpreting and writing him. Just a warning but this is going to be a loooong post. I actually rewrote it because I thought it was too long, and it still is lol.

I’ll start with a quick explanation of the negative arc for those not into lit analysis. Feel free to ignore this paragraph if you’re already familiar. The negative arc tells the story of a character that ends the story in a worse place than where they started. I would argue that many Mafia stories have these (Vito Scaletta being the foremost one that comes to mind). There are three kinds of basic negative character arcs: the Disillusionment arc (I’d argue this one for Vito), the Fall arc, and the Corruption arc. I feel the Salieri goes through the fall arc, which goes as follows: character believes lie, character clings to lie, rejects new truth, believes stronger or worse lie.

Let’s talk about the truth and the lie of this tale. The lie that Salieri believes is that he is better than Morello, which he has three reasons for. Those qualifiers that he sets up for being ‘better than Morello’ are being a competent business man, a father to his men, and a pillar of the community. We, of course, know he is exactly like Morello when the chips come down to it, but this is the lie Ennio convinces himself with (and does so for others as well). There is a slow decline over the chapters where his humanity hinges on two touchstones: Frank Coletti and Marcu Morello. These events are what challenge the lie.

Let’s look at how the lie is established and how he is presented in the first part (referring to the five groups of four chapters between the diner book ends). He wants to help out Tommy by giving him a loan and tell Morello that he can’t hurt the regular people in Little Italy, projecting a certain ideology to Tommy and the rest of the trio gathered. After Tommy and Paulie burn down the parking lot, Salieri talks about how Morello’s anger will burn out his brain (words implying that he’s like a child). Then, Salieri gives his rules for the neighborhood: no swearing (a very parent like guideline), no drugs (pillar of the community), and be careful with the police (trying to show caution instead of aggression; also gives the impression of ‘local, mom and pop’ compared to big shot Morello).  Next chapter he has Paulie and Sam show Tommy the ropes and gives explicit instructions not to be rough with anybody, although he probably was well aware that would happen anyway. Plausible deniability and showing how he “cares” for his community. Because we, the player, have very little evidence to contradict this notion, we are not aware of the lie that Salieri believes, but we do get to see the conviction with which he believes it.

The lie gets fleshed out with fair play. He is still concerned with his lie considering his conundrum with how to treat the other driver (Morello didn’t have the same concern and faced no consequences so either he has friends at the track too or that was never actually a problem), and he mentions how a lot of people in the neighborhood come to him for financial advice. The fact that he does this is meant to illustrate both his competency as a business man and the fact that the community trusts him. We skip ahead at to Better Get Used To It, and he is full of apparently righteous fury at the treatment of Sarah. He talks about how she is a daughter to him (father) and how people won’t protected by them and they’ll lose business, but if you stick around a minute you hear his rant about the hotel and how he feels like certain things are falling apart. Here and when they find out about Ghilotti in the next chapter, Salieri is furious, but it comes from his business sense. He is still concerned about the health of his organization, but it does foreshadow Salieri’s temper and ruthlessness when things don’t go his way. His behavior, especially when it comes to the hotel, indicates that he can be vengeful when the chips are down. Ultimately, this is still reinforcing the lie, but it allows us to see the cracks in it.

Here is when things start to get juicy and where Salieri chooses to cling to the truth. At the very beginning of part three, we get a long conversation with Frank. This is a meaty conversation, especially for the insight it gives into Salieri. Up until now, this kind of behavior has only been hinted at, never confirmed. We start off the next chapter with Frank mentioning that Salieri has been going over the books with him AGAIN. It’s a throwaway but becomes important later as it hints that Frank isn’t the person that botched that chapter’s job. His calm demeanor during the conversation is him still staying calm and business like but reflective. It is the opposite of the way someone would be expected to behave when they find out they’ve been betrayed. His contemplative nature and reflection on the dog, then calling his child self stupid, is him clinging to the truth. He’s saying, “I’m not that person anymore. I’ve grown.” Considering how Salieri (and even Tommy during the conversation with Norman) portray Morello as childish during conversations, establishing his maturity is important to Salieri. Tommy’s conversation with Frank has him talking about he is tired of waiting for Salieri to kill him, telling the player that if Salieri’s most trusted feels this way. The rest of part 3 is largely him continuing businesslike behavior (introducing Tommy to the safe cracker and the whole thing with Paulie and the whiskey deal), which is him trying to return to normal, like the whole thing with Frank never happened.

Then, the third intermezzo happens. So, a huge aspect of negative arcs is the fact that the character will have the opportunity to see the truth on multiple occasions and cling to their lie until the turning point occurs (which is different depending on the type of arc). Intermezzo 3 actually shows hints of it when we hear a very important line from Tommy: “And Salieri, he finally start talkin’ about gettin’ outta Morello’s shadow. Maybe buyin’ our own cops, our own politicians.” Salieri at this point, is continuing to act on the idea that he is better than Morello, but he’s moving himself to the point where he’ll be forced to see the truth. I won’t go further with this too much, but part four is just riddled with Salieri clinging to this idea that he’s better than Morello as time and time again things go wrong or they go right. His opportunities to see the truth come in the form of the violence he or his men inflict (in particular the occasion with Carlo) and the sheer amount of destruction that he orders. Note that the sheer violence of the war is staggering, and it starts because Salieri makes arguably a reckless move by putting a judge on the take without checking (at least checking well) if this person is on Morello’s take. Whether or not this would have happened with Frank, we wouldn’t know, but Salieri’s ambition starts one thing. Salieri might still not see the truth, but, if they couldn’t before, the player can. The biggest piece of foreshadowing in this part is the last line. “See you on the other side Marcu.”

The seeing the truth and rejecting it happens off screen. I’ve talked about what I think the turning point for Salieri and Tommy’s relationship is, and I feel like the rejection of the truth comes when Salieri finds out about Frank. In great contrast to all conceived previous behavior, Salieri has Frank and his entire family killed. During the first conversation with Frank, Salieri only specifies something should happen to Frank (and this is in contrast to the original game where he wanted to provide for the Collettis after Frank’s death). He has a moment where he could show mercy, leave Frank alone or just leave his family alone, and this is a direct hit to his lie, that he is better than Morello. At this point... Who does he have to be better than with Morello gone? He doesn’t have a person to compare himself to that makes him question his anger and he directs his wrath from there. Frank is a traitor, Morello is dead, Tommy is a traitor, Paulie is useless, and Sam is a soldier. He has no equal and no protégé. His lie is no longer that he is better than Morello. His new, worse like is that he is better than everyone, and this time it is not morally. He is in charge. Tommy talks about how Salieri acted like they “owned the whole damn town”, but it was really that he owned it. He didn’t have to bother with putting on airs after this. This is why the three stipulations dissolve. After election campaign, he loses some of the father to his men by deliberately leaving out information about the job and not worrying about the health of “his boys”. He’s bringing dope into the community, not worrying about his position as a pillar of it. The business sense stays only because it is his business that makes him better than other people. Even then, that goes a little bit out of the window when vengeance (because Sam never got information that Tommy and Paulie weren’t planning on cutting them in after the fact, either Sam or Salieri assumed) became more important and he decided to get rid of some of his most successful soldiers. We still see the truth in the end, that Ennio Salieri is exactly like Morello, but he was ultimately blind to it.

[screpdoodle]

Duality - Chapter Two (The Idiosyncrasies Caused by the Troll Agenda)

"Settle down, settle down!" The com system of the ship crackled to life, a heavy Irish accent coming through, rising Kaos from his rest. "We'll be nearing the school in under an hour! Get ye stuff together and be ready to disembark!" None of the kids seemed to notice, or at least register they had heard the announcement. They were too involved with their own petty little lives. Kaos sighed, putting his backpack back on and getting to his feet. The ship wasn't descending quite yet, but he could see a few other islands and vessels speckling the sky. Oh, how he yearned to know their stories, the mysteries each and every one held. He leaned against the railing, resting his head in his hands, watching the sights slowly flow past. The sky was now an unfamiliar powdery blue, as opposed to the faint reds he was used to back home. Both were intriguing in their own rights, of course, but he had yet to grow used to the blue that the rest of Skylands apparently held as a usual sight. Kaos sighed, reaching his hand out, feeling the wind flowing over his fingertips. The cool fall breeze, carrying with it the magic that made Skylands what it is. If he focused, he could almost feel it, the pure energy. Or maybe that was just him losing circulation to his extended digits. Kaos chuckled to himself, pulling his hand back, the sensation of his fingers falling asleep setting in. It had most definitely been the latter. Kaos slipped his hands into his pockets, took a step away from his corner, and froze.

BANG!

There it was again. The engine misfiring. But this time, Kaos swore the sound was coming from directly below him. He knelt down, placing his hand on the boards of the deck, raising an eyebrow. He could feel the vibrations of people's footsteps, their voices all swarming together into a mess of gibberish he couldn't make out, until he heard it again, cutting through the slurry of noise. BANG!! This time, other people seemed to hear it too, judging by how they began looking around, but like before they seemed to brush it off. Just assuming the old ship was just doing its usual old ship thing. But this, Kaos knew, this was far from its usual. The old barge may have been made from shoddy craftsmanship, but this didn't just seem like its usual nonsense. This was something foreign. This was something… new. The talking had grown quieter, or maybe he had just become more focused, but whichever it may had been, Kaos needed to know what was happening. He looked around quickly, making his way to the staircase that lead down below deck. He pushed the door open, blatantly ignoring the "Staff Only" sign taped to its rusted surface, before he darted down the stairs. He took two at a time, his heart racing, feet barely touching the ground as he scrambled around the corner and into the room below deck. He pushed the door open, then skidded to a complete stop.

"PUT YOUR BACKS INTO IT BOYS!" BANG! Kaos held onto the door frame as the ship lurched to the side, a tree trunk sized battering ram getting lodged in the hull of the ship. The three creatures that were holding onto it wrenching the battering ram out of the dent they had made, readying for another strike. Kaos recognized them almost immediately, from their stout figures to their green skin. Kaos has read about them many times, but had never seen one in person. Let alone a whole group of them. Trolls. Five trolls, to be exact. Three of them were the typical image you'd see, stout bodies and long, muscular limbs, their caricature-esque faces twisted into grimaces as they wound up for another hit before ultimately dropping the battering ram, the noise it caused just as earsplitting. The fourth was bigger, about the size of the other three if they were mashed all together into one massive mega-troll. A long nose took up most of his face, paired with beady eyes (hidden within a mop of ginger hair) and a wide, snarling mouth. His floppy ears hung at the sides of its head, framing the monstrous mess perfectly. But the one that caught Kaos' attention the most was the fifth troll. Kaos knew quite a bit about trolls. He knew that their idea of fun was shoving lit dynamite down each other's pants. Their day job was oppressing smaller Mabu towns, and their favorite pastime was making faux paintings and ancient relics that would normally explode before you even got home with them. All of this added up with the first four, but the fifth troll seemed far from what Kaos understood trolls to act like. He sat off to the side on one of the crates, his face hidden in his green hands. He was a gangly thing, with slender limbs and a mess of curly, ginger hair sprouting from his head. His clothes were a lot neater than the others, actually looking like they had been washed within the last week. Nothing added up about him.

"Come on you idiots!! Get off your lazy butts and get back to work!!" The fourth troll snarled, flecks of yellowish spit flying from his mouth. His voice was sour enough to curdle milk.

The other trolls hoisted the battering ram up once again, then charged at the hull, lodging it into the same dent once again. Kaos stumbled back, nearly falling flat on his back. The ship may have been rickety, but that battering ram wasn't going to get through any time soon. Especially on the section they were working at. Before the thought crossed his mind that announcing himself was probably a bad idea, Kaos cleared his throat.

"By the Ancients, what do you think you're doing??" His shrill voice cut through the air, drawing the attention of the trolls all at once. Even the one in the corner. The main four exchanged glances, then dropped the battering ram onto the uneven flooring. "I've heard trolls are dull, but honestly. Did you really think that twig was gonna buckle the hull? You'd need something at least twice as dense. Or maybe even something less primitive. Like a flamethrower."

The trolls exchanged glances, before the biggest troll pushed past the others, towering over Kaos. Kaos did his best to maintain his cool composure, crossing his arms across his puffed-out chest. Too late to back out now. He needed to think of an actual plan, quickly.

"Well well well," the main troll snarled, crouching down. "What do we have here?"

"A human that seems to know more about demolition than you do." Kaos spoke back.

The troll's amused grin twisted itself into a frown, his yellowed teeth showing through his parted lips. "A human."

Kaos felt his breath catch in his throat as a large, meaty hand grabbed him by the collar of his coat, lifting him up off of the ground.

"A puny thing like you. Is a human," the troll scoffed. From where he was holding him, Kaos could smell his pungent breath. It reeked of rattail stew and week old sheep wool pie.

"N-Not just a mere human!" Kaos squirmed in the troll's grasp, his mind running a thousand miles a minute. "I, Kaos, am a Portal Master!!"

That grabbed their attention. Kaos could see the gears in the biggest troll's head grinding, his beady yellow eyes peering out from beneath his untamed mop. Despite dangling in the air, and being not even half of the troll's size, Kaos tried his best to look imposing. Trolls were supposed to be dumb, their intellect only comparable to things like Greebles or the common Chompy. So of course they'd buy such a clear fib, right? Kaos wasn't a Portal Master. He was the farthest thing from one. Even if they weren't simply a myth parents told their kids so they would behave, Mother being one of them, Kaos was far from magical. He was intellectual, not mythical. But hopefully these trolls were dense enough to believe the tales. And that he was one of them. As the seconds ticked past, Kaos began growing more and more proud of this fib he had concocted, seeing as it had seemed to stop the trolls in their tracks as they worked their brains around it. That feeling was quickly snuffed, though, as the main troll burst into laughter, the other three following suit.

"Oh my Ancients, this twerp is hilarious!!" He cackled, tossing Kaos to the ground, at the feet of the others.

"Listen, 'Kaos'." He knelt down, coming face to face with him. Kaos had to do his best not to hurl at the stench of the troll's breath. "You're funny, mini-human. But that's quickly getting on my nerves. So why don't you get out of our way and bear witness to the greatest family of trolls to ever grace the Umbra Isles!"

"The 'greatest family of trolls' uses a battering ram to try to sink a reinforced school ship?" Kaos raised an eyebrow, sneering. He couldn't help himself. He knew he was actively digging his own grave, but he just didn't know when to stop.

The troll paused, then looked to the three behind Kaos. "...Ascral, you told me this was a cargo transport ship!!" He stepped over Kaos, the troll's bare foot nearly colliding with Kaos' skull.

"I-It is!!" One of the three, Ascral, stammered, putting his hands up in defense. "It- It transports people!"

"People aren't cargo!! We were supposed to sink the ship and take the cargo back as proof!! We can't bring back a boatload of kids!!"

Kaos rolled his eyes, ignoring the fact that his hands were shaking as he started crawling back towards the staircase. If he could get out while they were bickering amongst each other, hopefully the ship would dock and he would be able to get away scott-free. For a split second, Kaos looked over to the troll in the corner. He had looked up, his warm grey eyes meeting Kaos' for only a moment. Kaos felt his heart skip a beat, then stop altogether when he heard one of the other trolls shout: "Thropp!! The human's getting away!!"

Kaos screamed as he was wrenched up off of the ground, a sweaty hand clamping down over his mouth.

"And where do you think you're going, maggot," Thropp spat, eyeing Kaos through his shaggy hair. "We're not letting you get away that easily."

Kaos kicked his legs trying to writhe out of the goliath troll's grasp. In a panic, he sunk his teeth into Thropp's hand, ignoring the putrid taste of sweat and blood that filled his mouth. Thropp reeled back, squealing like a little girl as he dropped Kaos to the ground. He stumbled back, tripping over the other trolls in the process. Kaos spit out a mouthful of olive green blood, then broke into a mad dash for the door.

"Glumshanks!! Stop the human!!" He heard Thropp shout, looking back over his shoulder. The gangly troll had gotten up off of his crate, glancing from Kaos to the other trolls in a panic before a loud CLANG filled the room and Kaos fell back, his head hitting the metal flooring. The room spun, his ears ringing. He looked up to see the doorframe he had collided with, his vision soon filled with the silhouette of the goliath troll he had been trying to get away from. The last thing he heard was Thropp's slimy voice cutting through the ringing in his head.

"Zhoarc, Haldir, Ascral! Grab the rope. We have to make sure this maggot doesn't get in our way again."

The troll, who Kaos had deduced to be Glumshanks, was supposed to be keeping a close eye on him; despite the fact that he was practically hogtied, trapped in the corner between the wall and a stack of crates. Kaos had only been out cold for a few minutes, he assumed, though thinking with a splitting headache was growing to be quite cumbersome so he couldn't tell for certain. He had tried explaining to the trolls that he wouldn't have gone squealing to the adults, that just wasn't how he worked, but they clearly didn't trust him. Which was fair. Kaos squirmed against the shaggy rope that was wrapped around his limbs, muttering to himself. He could hear the other trolls bickering, but he couldn't make out the words. Not that it would have helped him. He needed to think of a plan, some way he could get out of this situation, but his mind kept drawing blanks. For once in his life, Kaos felt stuck. That was, until he noticed Glumshanks.

The lanky troll was back on his crate, chin resting in his hands, watching the other trolls as they finally decided to get back to work. His grey eyes were full of longing, his mouth bent into a small frown. He looked complacent. He looked… useful. Kaos shifted his way over to the troll best he could, using his shoulder to nudge the troll's leg. Glumshanks jumped slightly, then looked down, as if just remembering Kaos was there.

"Oh… hello," he sighed. He had a low, melancholy voice. "If you want me to move, I don't think I'm allowed. But believe me, I'd love to as much as the next-"

"No, fool!" Kaos interrupted, his voice barely above a whisper, "I want you to untie me. But make sure that ugly oaf over there doesn't see you, or we're both in a boatload of trouble."

Glumshanks blinked slowly, then looked away. Kaos looked incredulously up at him, frustration bubbling up in the back of his throat.

"Did you not hear me-"

"I heard you," Glumshanks glanced back down. "But for one, I don't appreciate that tone of voice. Two, that 'ugly oaf' is my brother. Three, I don't feel like risking my well-being for a human I just met."

"...that's your brother," Kaos raised an eyebrow.

"Did you not hear him shouting about the 'greatest family of trolls in the umbra isles'? That includes me. The runt of the litter."

Glumshanks gave a drawn out sigh, looking away again. Kaos furrowed his brow, lingering on the last part of the sentence. Runt of the litter. While Glumshanks was nowhere close to being a 'runt', Kaos understood what he meant. Compared to the others, Glumshanks definitely looked weaker. Nothing about his demeanor screamed 'troll' (aside from the obvious physical attributes) whereas the others, well, you'd know from a mile away what they were. Kaos sighed, then nudged Glumshanks' leg once more.

"Hey, I'm, uh…" He faltered, trying to hide the small twinge of guilt he actually felt. "I'm sorry, mkay? I didn't mean to call your brother ugly-"

"He is."

"...what."

"He's definitely hard on the eyes, you weren't wrong. But go on."

Kaos exhaled through his nose, now even more confused than before. "If you agree with me, why in Skylands did you get all uppity??"

"It's the principle of the-" Glumshanks flinched as the sound of wood splintering against metal filled the room, "of the situation."

"Okay, well, whatever," Kaos' eyes trailed back over to the other trolls, watching as Thropp slammed his foot against the ground and the three others charged at the hull. "...why aren't you helping them?"

"I'd slow them down. Besides, it's not really my scene. They handle the action, I handle the paperwork."

"If they do succeed," Kaos carried on, as much as the concept of a troll doing paperwork intrigued him, "how're you all going to get away? If you manage to sink the ship, well, I don't see any other vessel you can use to get away on."

Glumshanks was silent, his ears twitching as the battering ram made contact with the wall once more. "...they didn't think that far ahead. All that matters is we get an A on the project."

"Did you? Think ahead, I mean."

The troll looked over, the two locking eyes once again. Kaos understood what it was like, to be the odd one out. Of course, he wouldn't admit it, but maybe he could use that to his advantage.

"Listen, troll-"

"Glumshanks."

"Yes, right, whatever. If you help untie me, I can help you with this little… situation."

"...how?"

"Untie me, then we can discuss details."

"...fine. But only because I'm tired of being here."

Kaos could have sworn he noticed the corners of the troll's mouth twitch into a smile, his gaze softening, but it was gone quickly. The gangly troll looked back to his brothers, then slid off of the crate, coming to crouch beside Kaos. He felt Glumshanks tug on the ropes, then begin going to work. Before long, the ropes slid to the ground with a dull thud, leaving Kaos to readjust and reassess. He rubbed his wrists where the ropes had cut into them, then looked back to Glumshanks. He could run. Glumshanks clearly wasn't strong enough to stop him if he did, and the other trolls were too busy with their idiotic plan to notice him. He could leave and just continue on with his life like nothing had happened. But as Kaos moved to stand up, something stopped him. Whether it was the look on Glumshanks' face, or the fact that this troll was an anomaly Kaos desperately wanted to know more about, or maybe even the fact that he related to him on some microscopic level. Kaos shifted around to face Glumshanks, managing a smile.

"Alright, troll. Let's get this show on the road."

<- previous chapter | next chapter ->

[astoldbygingersnaps]

Harper’s 2020 Fic Wrap-Up

my very good friend and incredibly talented felow writer @sagemoderocklee came up with the idea of doing an end of the year fic wrapup in an attempt to polish the turd known as 2020, and since i actually managed to get some writing done this year i figured, why not jump on the bandwagon? 

a lot of super duper fucking shitty things happened in 2020, but i will always be proud that in this incredibly chaotic, stressful, and challenging year i managed to produce almost 180k of content (and that’s not even counting the writing i started in 2020 but haven’t published yet). so, to celebrate what’s been a pretty big achievement for me, i wanted to go through the various projects i’ve spent the last twelve months working on and give a preview of my plans for 2021.

let’s jump in!

projects i worked on/completed in 2020:

first off, let’s start with the beast to end all beasts, my personal baby, and honestly probably the reason most people follow me -- star trek au:

something bigger than the sky (shiita; 44,163 words; completed): 

i’ve said this before, but the whole idea for star trek au was literally just a joke between me and my-then girlfriend, now-fiancee, and eternal shiita enabler alexa aka @durintrash (by the way, if you follow me for my fics and you DON’T follow alexa for her corresponding art WHAT, exactly, are you doing with your life????) where i sat in a space-themed diner and said ‘haha imagine itachi as a vulcan.’ but then i blinked and suddenly somehow i’d written the prologue and the first chapter of SBTTS in the span of a week. it’s like i was possessed by a fanfic demon.

it sounds super cheesy but i honestly can’t say enough how important this fic has been to me and how much it’s pushed me to be a more productive and more dedicated writer. previously i spent a lot of time Thinking about writing and occasionally i’d put a few words on the page and then i’d go... do... something... else. but star trek au was the first idea i loved enough that it actually pushed me to write and keep writing and not give up even when i was confronted with things like writer’s block and worry over the quality of my writing. so thank you, star trek au, for being the light in a very dark year for me. 

by the end of SBTTS, i felt like i accomplished everything i wanted to do with the story’s beginning installment: i introduced all the characters and set the groundwork for their development; i showed what life on the corvus was like and how starfleet, the federation, and the universe functioned; and, more than anything, i was able to sketch out both the main protagonists -- itachi and shisui -- with all their strengths and flaws, show their relationship to one another, and hint at how that relationship would progress. 

all the stars are closer (shiita; 75,195 words; completed)

considering how slow i used to be at writing, i thought it would be, like, twelve years before i managed to get to the second part in the series. BUT then covid happened and i half-lost, half-quit my job, and like a lot of people this year i ended up with a lot of free time on my hands. and so, like a fucking demon, i finished this part in two and a half months. 

when i originally planned this part out, i really thought it would be a lot shorter and a lot lighter atmosphere-wise than it turned out. instead, this second section of the story ended up being pretty meaty in terms of length and in subject.

that said, overall, i’m really happy with how ATSAC turned out. i loved the way the characters progressed, how the relationships deepened, and how we were able to see this universe grow bigger and more complicated. and i’m very satisifed with how it set the stage for part three, which takes us to...

lovers alone wear sunlight (shiita; 41,518 words; in progress)

there’s... a lot about this part that i just can’t talk about yet, a) because it isn’t finished and b) because it contains some of the biggest plot points in the entire series thus far. if you’ve been keeping up with the stardates thus far (which i encourage you to do!) you know what part three is leading up to: itachi leaving the corvus and the dissolution of shisui and itachi’s growing relationship. 

with that in mind, i’m... more than a little terrified about writing part three, which is why the third chapter has been languishing in my google drive for months now. (and also why i started not one, but TWO new fics to cope with my writer’s block. whoops.) chapter three is where all the parts come together and shit hits the fan, and i can only hope that everyone will be as excited to read it as i am to publish it. 

next up, the two other projects i began this year:

salvation comes only in our dreams (shiita; canon divergence; 16,835 words; in progress)

for a long time, i’ve wanted to write something that’s actually set in the naruto universe and works to correct a lot of the flaws that i see in the series. there are a lot of things that bother me about naruto, but i think one of the things that frustrates me the most is the really messy and in some ways offensive resolution to the uchiha coup plot thread, and i wanted to write a story that dealt with the complicated themes of the series--imperialism, oppression, genocide, child soldiers--but, like, didn’t suck and completely drop the ball. thus, the massacre au was born. 

my main goal was to tell a story that showed a lot of these characters in ways we’ve never seen them before, specifically itachi. i didn’t want to write itachi as just an idealist who suffers and Suffers AND SUFFERS for konoha yet still remains loyal to the village for some unfathomable reason like he is in the series. i wanted to write an itachi that was sharper, more jaded, and more suspicious of the world around him, but overall was still a good person with a kind heart. and for shisui, well... obviously there’s a lot going on there, too. 

this is easily the darkest story i’ve ever written, and as the plot thickens it will certainly get darker with relationship dynamics that are complicated and unhealthy At Best. i hope that as the story goes on it’s a ride people continue to enjoy, as i was super pleasantly surprised at how popular this fic became (compared to my usual stats, at least) 

oceans between us (shiita; alternate universe; 15,039 words; in progress)

it’s good to know that i continue to be the most ridiculously niche version of myself as yes, i wrote a fucking shiita atonement au. 

with each fic i write i try to have a very specific voice that suits the particular piece and distinguishes it from other stories that include the same characters. for example, star trek au chapters tend to be more fun and light-hearted (especially shisui POV chapters) and lean more into the action movie and sci-fi adventure feel of the star trek universe, while the massacre au is written in a way that’s much heavier and guided by itachi’s emotions and experiences. my main goal with this story was to give it the same romantic, operatic, almost hazy quality that the movie has, which reflects the period setting and also the nature of this grand tragic love story. 

i knew from the beginning that there were going to be a lot of things that i cut from the film in my retelling, like the lola subplot and obviously the setting of pre-wwii england. i also knew i wanted to explore some of the aspects of the film that were implied more than outright stated, like the themes of classism and upper-class privileges. and more than anything i wanted to structure this piece around this idea of tension building and building until it finally snaps and there’s just a world of mess and hurt and loss that affects these two characters in two very different ways. 

also, the sex scene. i haven’t written a sex scene for anything in, like, a decade, so that was a lot of pressure. but i’m happy with how it came out and i think it ended up being an aspect of the story that felt like both a natural progression and necessary to show the affection these two people have for one another.

originally i was just going to end the story with shisui going to jail, but when i told alexa this i genuinely thought she was going to kill me. so, that didn’t happen lmao. but the more i tried to imagine what a second chapter would look like, the more i realized she was right, and it would have been a terrible idea to end the fic there. as for whether or not the final chapter will keep That Ending... who can say?

goals i have for 2021:

finishing lovers alone wear sunlight and, if i’m very lucky, beginning the fourth and second to last part of star trek au (yes, as it currently stands this 160k+ word series is only halfway finished. sorry not sorry)

publishing the next chapter of salvation comes only in our dreams (i don’t know when it will drop. i don’t know anything about this fic. please do not @ me) 

completing oceans between us (the second and final chapter is currently sitting at about 4k words and will probably end up at about 15k in total)

completing and publishing a new fic i’ve started at the very end of 2020, which is the shiita jurassic world au nobody but me and alexa knew they wanted. it’s essentially a 90s romcom with dinosaurs and i cannot Wait to share it. (it’s at about 9k right now and will probably end up being around 20k to 23k in total... maybe...)

FINALLY starting my dream project: the shiita olympics au i’ve been planning for years, where itachi is a figure skater and shisui is a hockey player (i’d like to keep this under 150k but at this point trying to keep my stories at a managable word count is a losing battle)

anyway, that’s it! if you managed to get this far in this very self-indulgent and shameless bit of self promotion, congrats! also, a very big thank you to everyone who’s read my fics, left me kudos and comments, and spent their time on my work, because it really does mean the world to me. 

here’s hoping 2021 is a much healthier and happier year for us all! 

[selkiewife]

@the-king-andthe-lionheart​, thanks for your questions and comments! It was easier for me to create whole new post because this got long, so I’ll respond to your questions on my post here.

cw/tw: This post contains description of rape and sexual assault, and discussion of seizures.

First, it’s important for me to reiterate that even if Sansa is not being triggered, she still has every right to reject unwanted touch from Sweetrobin.

But the reason I got the impression that Sansa was being triggered by the touching of her breasts is because she has experienced sexual trauma related to her breasts being touched or exposed at least three times before Sweetrobin nuzzles her there. First, as Joffrey is having her beaten in front of the court, he orders Boros to strip her naked:

Boros shoved a meaty hand down the front of Sansa's bodice and gave a hard yank. The silk came tearing away, baring her to the waist. Sansa covered her breasts with her hands. She could hear sniggers, far off and cruel. "Beat her bloody," Joffrey said...

On her forced wedding night she is asked to strip again:

She kept her eyes on the floor, too shy to look at him, but when she was done she glanced up and found him staring. There was hunger in his green eye, it seemed to her, and fury in the black. Sansa did not know which scared her more." You're a child," he said. She covered her breasts with her hands. "I've flowered."

Then when she is told to get into bed:

She had started to pull up a blanket to cover herself when she heard him say, "No." The cold made her shiver, but she obeyed. Her eyes closed, and she waited. After a moment she heard the sound of her husband pulling off his boots, and the rustle of clothing as he undressed himself. When he hopped up on the bed and put his hand on her breast, Sansa could not help but shudder. She lay with her eyes closed, every muscle tense, dreading what might come next. 

Then after she has escaped King’s Landing with Little Finger, Marillion, the singer, attempts to rape her. 

Sansa jerked away from him, frightened. "If you don't leave me, my au—my father will hang you. Lord Petyr."

"Littlefinger?" He chuckled. "Lady Lysa loves me well, and I am Lord Robert's favorite. If your father offends me, I will destroy him with a verse." He put a hand on her breast, and squeezed. "Let's get you out of these wet clothes. You wouldn't want them ripped, I know."

So when Sweetrobin climbs into her bed and nuzzles against her breast, I do think that it triggers her. As she describes:

She would not have minded if he only slept, but he was always trying to nuzzle at her breasts.

We understand why he is doing it and so does Sansa- even though he is eight, he’s still weaning since Lysa was still breastfeeding him and she died so suddenly. Sansa knows he is only looking for comfort. But at the age of thirteen, Sansa has already had three traumatic incidents related to unwanted touching or displaying of her breasts (two of which happened when she was only twelve.)

TWOW Spoilers: It sickens me just talking about this as well, but Arya is also groped at the age of eleven in the Mercy chapter of TWOW. So I completely agree with you that Arya is going through the same kind of abuse and traumas as her sister. At the time she cares for Weasel, I don’t think she has been touched in this way (I may be wrong.) But even if she wasn’t and didn’t have any sort of trigger, I would still not judge Arya to be “unmotherly” or lacking compassion if she rejected a touch from Weasel there or anywhere else on her body.

Speaking of Weasel, I did not say that Arya’s situation was any less traumatic than Sansa. And I totally agree, Arya is on the run, starving, traumatized, and hunted. I also did not intend to say Weasel herself was any less traumatized than Sweetrobin. I do believe that it is kind of ridiculous to compare traumas anyway and obviously it is just not right to do that. However I do think that Sweetrobin may be more difficult to care for than Weasel at baseline. Ordinarily, I wouldn’t have thought to compare which child was harder. But it was Sansa’s care of Sweetrobin that was being called into question, not Arya’s. So I did start to compare how difficult each child would be to care for when thinking about why Sansa reacts to Sweetrobin the way she does sometimes. 

So it was intentional when I said that I think Sweetrobin is arguably harder to care for than Weasel, just objectively speaking, for a number of reasons. I also said arguably, because you could argue the opposite- that Weasel is harder. Or say they are equally hard. I mean, Weasel is tough to deal with as well. She cried so much she was called “the crying girl” before she got the nickname Weasel and she even kicked Hot Pie once I think. And she also has that habit of eating mud. And even Gendry complained that she was slowing them down (Isn’t it interesting how the fandom never calls Gendry’s fathering skills into question even though he would have willingly abandoned a traumatized child?) 

But one reason that I personally think that Weasel is easier to care for is because she is more likable than Sweetrobin and less demanding. Although this may be just my own feelings as a reader (which are subjective), Weasel was endearing to me immediately in a way that I didn’t feel with Sweetrobin at first. Now I know that might sound harsh, but I think that GRRM writes Sweetrobin to be off-putting purposely and I will explain why later. He does that with a lot of characters. Sansa for one, but also Theon, Jaime etc... there are a lot of characters in asoiaf that you are set up to dislike at first, before coming to understand and root for them later. I think Sweetrobin is one of those characters. And I think Sansa feels similarly toward him- gradually bonding with him instead of instantaneously. 

And we know Arya seems to like Weasel immediately. She even chooses “Weasel” as one of her aliases later in her arc and she tends to pick names of people she loves. I also think Weasel and Arya have a lot in common. They are both resilient, traumatized little girls on the run you know? I loved that out of the whole group they were the only ones unafraid to eat bugs when they were starving (these poor children!) And so, I feel like Arya could identify with her in a lot of ways.

Whereas I think that Sansa takes longer to bond with Sweetrobin because it is more complicated with him for a couple of reasons. For one, even before the trauma, Lysa has been raising Sweetrobin to be a spoiled brat. He is also emotionally stunted as a result of the way Lysa has kept him isolated and coddled. And even though I don’t think that Sweetrobin really understands what is happening when he is so gleeful about making people “fly” through the moon door- it’s still a little chilling and off putting. 

A specific reason that I think Sansa doesn’t immediately warm to him is that even before she meets him, Lysa intends for them to wed each other. Sansa has just left a traumatizing marriage into the Lannister family and the last thing she wants is another forced marriage right now. As Lysa instructs her:

“He likes to play hopfrog and spin-the-sword and come-into-my-castle, but you must always let him win. That's only proper, don't you think? He is the Lord of the Eyrie, after all, you must never forget that... My son will have a grateful and obedient wife.”

Sweetrobin, at first, symbolizes another unwanted, forced marriage to Sansa. So she might have an initial aversion to him just because of this. And I stand by my original assessment that this does make the situation with Sweetrobin more fucked up than Weasel. Weasel represents a frightened, traumatized child to Arya. Whereas Sweetrobin represents a traumatized child as well, but also a possible future husband that Sansa would have to be “grateful and obedient” to. Of course that changes once Lysa dies- but it is still the way she was introduced to him. And Robert still talks about marrying her in TWOW. We know that it is just a sweet crush from a little boy- but again, even the sweet things he does is sometimes off putting to Sansa because it is related to her trauma. Not to mention the fact that she is only caring for him because his mother tried to murder her. And she is dealing with misplaced guilt since Baelish ended up murdering Lysa after that incident. So Sweetrobin is intricately linked with her trauma.

And then his behavior in general is tough to deal with. None of it is his fault, but it still tough nonetheless. He is given to temper tantrums, throwing his chamber pot and bowls of food at people, and he is very petulant- and this was part of his character even before Lysa was murdered. He kind of reminds me of Colin from The Secret Garden. Like, it’s not his fault he is a spoiled brat, but he does start out like that.

He also has health issues and seizures. Obviously this is not his fault, but Sansa doesn’t have the necessary training to deal with his seizures or know the appropriate thing to do when he is having them. Sansa gives him sweetsleep so that he doesn’t have a seizure on the way down the mountain. As you said, she has no idea it could lead to his death and the side effects seem to be way less of a threat than him having a seizure and falling to his death. She is not a maester and doesn’t know the true effects of what she thinks is a medicine. Maester Coleman is the one who knows how harmful it is. And as the actual adult in the situation, he should either clearly tell her “hey, this will kill him,” or intervene himself. 

She has also been injured while trying to help him during a seizure:

Alayne turned to soothe the little lordling, but too late. The fit was on him. A pitcher of milk went flying as his hand caught it, flailing. When he tried to rise he knocked his chair backwards and fell on top of it. One foot caught Alayne in the belly, so hard it knocked the wind from her. 

And it’s worth mentioning that she never complains specifically about these incidents because she knows it is not his fault at all. That is it just part of his illness. She never complains about him at all actually to his face or to others- she is always sweet and soothing. The only reason we know of her frustrations at all is because we can read her thoughts. Which is similar to Arya who is bothered by Weasel’s crying as well but always defends her against the others who are complaining. 

But I think that Sweetrobin is purposely set up to be a difficult child to care for- because, as I said in the original post, Sansa is on a learning arc. She is learning to care for him (And I think she does an excellent job, personally.) Whereas, Arya’s relationship with Weasel is set up to reveal her compassion, her leadership skills, and ability to stand up for people (like when Gendry wants to leave Weasel behind.)

I agree with you that Sansa represses a lot of Little Finger’s machinations due to her trauma. But I don’t think she knows that Sweetrobin is being poisoned. I think she buys Little Finger’s story that Robert will die because of his health issues. And even then, I think she hopes for the best. Why else would she want to make him stronger and brave? Why else would she hope for a kind wife for him one day, if she was knowingly poisoning him? It doesn’t make sense. But I do think that GRRM leaves some things purposely vague so that it creates suspense. Will she realize he is being poisoned in time? If she does, will she try to save him? I think she will but that is probably one of the reasons he made Sweetrobin so difficult for Sansa specifically. To plant that seed of doubt in the reader. Like we know Arya would do anything to save Weasel. That’s a no brainer. But would Sansa save Sweetrobin? I think yes, and I will write a longer post about this at some point. But regardless, her initial complicated feelings toward him does serve to create narrative suspense.

Anyway, thanks for the questions and sorry that my explanation got so long. I hope you don’t take what I said, comparing Sweetrobin to Weasel, as me saying anything bad against Arya. It breaks my heart when I think of the trauma she has survived and is currently going through as well. And there are definitely many situations where she is dealing with things that are objectively harder than Sansa as well. And like I said, this is just my opinion of the two different childcare plots. 

And also, this may be controversial, but I think Arya absolutely did the right thing when she slapped Weasel to get her to move out of the battle. She needed to do whatever she could as a ten year old child trying to save a toddler’s life! Like seriously, if I were Weasel’s mother I would never be like “why did you slap my child?” I’d be like, "thank you for saving my child!” But like I said, I probably wouldn’t even have tried to compare the difficulty of the two situations had it not been for the initial comparison in the discourse.