#the idea that of all people she’d actually get along with gale because of his fun little weave tapestries….

[visenyaism]

anyways in the roleswap au that exists in my mind where orin gets memory wiped and tadpoled while the dark urge runs the cult i think she’d end up some weird amalgamation of illusion wizard + assassination rogue plus one level of glamour bard or something because while her hands remember how to kill the thing that really sticks with her is her compulsion to Make Pretty Things. she thinks maybe she was an artist back in the Gate :)

[therealslimshakespeare]

|| Lizards

Benny x Lu full blurb

Without thinking, because she is twenty four now and has been to the beach and has swam with friends and has lived a life, Lu shucks her dress, her shoes, her slip and dives into the lake, nylon undergarments ruined and only just sufficient to be considered a covering. It’s fine, it’s normal, she comes up to the surface and she knows, somewhere far back in her mind she knows, her chest and its scar is visible but it doesn’t matter. The sun is bright, the water is reflecting so strongly she has to squint and through it all Benny is tossing his hair out of his eyes and laughing between puffs of exertion at treading water. He is laughing at having jumped in, at the fact she went for it, too. It doesn’t matter that her body is on display, as a gruesome curiosity or an incitement to desire.

She is swimming with Benny and it’s all just fine.

It makes the moment so utterly enjoyable Lu feels like all her longing to be out here, to be surrounded by this big vast world— it’s been close to right, very near what she’s needed, it’s just made a little better with him and that’s unfortunate as he lives in Chicago. Benny shouldn’t be in the city, he should be in a sparkling lake with minnows assaulting his feet and diamonds of water caught in his lashes.

They’re laughing at each other, so much so they’re close to drowning, and they don’t have to say why. It’s perfect.

She could count each of his lashes as she swims around him, so close and so circular she’s half minnow herself, Benny’s eyes don’t leave her face and he’s stopped laughing enough to look mildly wary at her antics. She’d like to count his lashes, she realizes, she never really thought of how many there were, distracted perhaps, by his beard at other times.

Back when he had a beard: she knew that about him. Back when she stuffed cardboard into her brassieres: he knew that about her.

She keeps circling him and can’t make any progress on counting his lashes because he begins to laugh again, but it’s short and aggravated and she waits for him to explain it, she knows he will.

“What’re you, half mermaid?” there’s quashed competition in his voice, he’s betrayed at her leaving off their giggle fit to actually swim.

“You sure aren’t.” she laughs back, his neck is almost fully in the water, “Those big strong shoulders can’t hold you up? Am I going to have to tow you to the rock?”

Benny takes the teasing well, his face clears if anything, quick to laugh at himself. “You’ve got an advantage, you come here a lot. I’ve been rottin’ in the city.”

Lu gives an approving nod at his conclusion, it aligns with her own. “Yes, so you’ve gotta fix that. You should come out here more often.”

He doesn’t need to come here. Here with her.

There’s all manner of woods and water and nature just outside his stupid city but that’s not an option somehow, not with the way he’s here with her when he could be in the woods with Jack or out on a boat with Maureen. He chose here, instead.

“Yeah, I should.” Benny just agrees because they don’t have to say all that, say that it feels right and different. It just is for now and they can let it be.

She watches him lay back in the water, floating along with the gentle ripple and his ears are below the water and his eyes are on the big blue sky above them and Lu thinks that’s a perfect idea so she floats back too, staring at the sky they once knew so well, wondering if he misses it like she does- in a way that’s half agony of separation and absolute terror of ever being made to reunite with it.

Bucky doesn’t get that; he’s still flying.

Ida and Gale would still be if their governments weren’t so shit to them.

Jack never wanted to but he’d done it for the country, for his people, because it was right. From how often Benny and Jack see each other, like they’re dosing each other up by sheer proximity, Lu guesses they shared that singular motivation.

She turns her head, one ear clogged and filled with water, her other cheek so far into the lake it’s almost lapping up her one nostril; but she can see Benny floating near her, he has his eyes closed.

He gets it, she thinks, heart so full she could cry from happiness for once.

“-don’t you want to fall asleep like this?” she wants to ask him, says it aloud only because she knows his ears are under the water, his face doesn’t even twitch, his eyelids are smooth without a crease of a squint or a frown around them, his nose is ever so gently upturned and Lu wants to place her hand under his head, keep him like this forever, let him enjoy it like she does, “You could, I’d keep you up, make sure you don’t drown.”

When Benny turns his face to her she blushes hot even in the freshwater lake, he looks like he’s caught her at something she shouldn’t be doing, a chiding look of kindness but it reminds her she shouldn’t be treading water and staring at his face like she loves him. If only he could see himself. He’d understand it then. Anyone would.

It’s Benny. And it’s perfect and before he pulls his head up fully he lets himself sink a little and does a slow lazy flip in the water and she feels him tickle her foot on the way back up.

It’s much the same laying on the toasty flat limestone rocks on the lakeshore. Benny and her, burning their backs on the rock, tender bellies getting scorched by late afternoon sun, underwear drying out as crispy as the grass. He’s got his eyes closed again, lashes fanned out on freckling cheeks. And Lu is watching him once more and thinking how much she’d like to be a couple of lazy lizards with Benny.

She snickers at the thought.

“What’s that?” he hums.

Lu shakes her head, disbelieving that she’s about to embarrass herself like this but at least he still has his eyes closed, “I was thinking that we’re a pair of lizards.” And that she’d like to keep being a lizard with him and have a lizard family.

Benny doesn’t laugh at her, his nose crinkles in a mildly disgusted way but he looks like he’s gotta agree despite it all, she feels so fuzzy by that. “I think my back is gonna stay on the rock when I sit up.”

The clasps of her bra are digging into her spine but, otherwise it’s burning and fabulous and she wants to stay forever. The look on his face, lazily tilted towards hers on the rock with his eyes half masted and open, agrees so eloquently Lu wants to— she doesn’t know. So she settles with reaching out and resting her hand on the browned meat of his pretty shoulder. Benny’s eyes droop further and they chide her ever so gently for the fire it ignites in them both all at once, and Lu would love to be two lizards and stay here forever.

[corysmiles]

t!Tav with the Origin Companions

BG3 g/t

T!tav fluffy head cannons

Notes: this is unedited but I needed to get it out of my brain, so my apologies for any grammar weirdness

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

Karlach:

This woman is absolutely devastated that she can’t hold Tav because of her engine

She sneaks extra food to Tav because she’s fascinated by the tiny

As soon as her engine is fixed enough for her to touch people she is holding Tav all the time. Her first action after being fixed is just grabbing the tiny

Tav uses Karlach as a personal heater whenever it’s too cold at night and Karlach is 100% there for it. Although, she is extremely nervous about accidentally crushing Tav while she’s asleep

Karlach lets Tav hide in her armor while they’re out so she can keep the tiny close

Gale (+Tara):

Gale is extremely careful and gentle with Tav, letting them sit with him while he reads in his tent. He’s spent a long time writing and using his hands for magic, so he’s very well-practiced in careful movements

He is nervous that Tara will go after the tiny so he sits her down to talk about Tav NOT being food. Tara is upset about it at first, but starts to like the tiny once she realizes she can get the best ear scratches from the tiny.

Gale loves learning so he takes any chance he gets to study Tav. It gets a little weird for the tiny sometimes because he asks a ton of questions but overall they find it endearing

As the resident cook of the group Gale is all in on making sure Tav eats well. At first he’s not super sure about how much they should eat so they end up with a portion way too big for them. He gets better over time at making sure the portions are right but Tav will never complain about there being too much.

If Tav is in trouble or noticed during a fight he conjures a mage hand to whisk them away. The first time it happens Tav is terrified until they’re dropped into Gale’s pocket away from danger, and any time they try to look out to see what’s happening the hand pushes them back into the pocket

Astarion:

Astarion is extremely unsure about Tav at first. He doesn’t understand the point of keeping someone around who can’t really help much in fights, and he doesn’t like the idea of wasting resources on them (even small amounts).

He starts to get along with them when he realizes they’re upset about not feeling like they have much control over their life. One night when drinking they tell him about how they’re used to being used and controlled by larger people, and after that he can’t help but relate to them. And if he is a little nicer to them after that none of the other companions have to know

He definitely teases them about biting them, even though they know he wouldn’t actually do anything to them.

Astarion is also surprisingly gentle with them. His experience with picking locks means he is often the best at holding them without jostling them around too much. Whenever they’re on long walks to their next campsite Tav often lets him hold them since it’s usually the most comfortable. He always complains, but he never actually turns them down

Lae’zel:

Similarly to Astarion, Lae’zel also doesn’t like Tav much at first. In her opinion the tiny is nothing more than a liability in a fight, and she doesn’t understand the appeal of having them around.

Lae’zel typically avoided interacting with Tav, and if she had to pick them up she wasn’t very nice about it

However, after visiting the crèche Tav comes to talk to her and make sure she’s okay, and the tiny starts to grow on Lae’zel. After realizing that some of the githyanki ideals she’d been taught weren’t right, she starts to find the tiny’s company nice- even if the tiny still can’t help much in a fight

Lae’zel absolutely tries to teach Tav how to fight. She gives them a needle as a makeshift weapon and while it can’t do much damage she teaches Tav all the best places to stab.

Wyll:

Wyll is one of the first to support the idea of allowing Tav to stay with them. He’s always wanted to help other people, and when they find the tiny he can’t help but want to protect them.

Whenever Mizora shows up at camp he hides Tav away because he’s always worried she’ll do something to them to keep Wyll under her control

Wyll reached Tav how to dance once he finds out that they don’t know how. It’s awkward since they’re smaller than his hand but he’s still able to at least teach them the proper movements

Tav loves to hear Wyll’s stories about the people he’s protected before and will sit in his tent to keep him company to listen to him

Wyll is very nervous about holding Tav. He’s always worried that he’ll hurt them somehow or that they’ll fall or he’ll squeeze too tight, but Tav always reassures him it’s okay. He gets better about it throughout their travels, but he still doesn’t hold them often out of fear

Shadowheart:

Shadowheart loves Tav almost from the start. She’ll talk to them constantly, and sit them on her shoulder for company throughout their travels.

Shadowheart is very keen on training the owl bear cub and Scratch to not hurt Tav. When they finally get to a point where Tav can be around them with out constant monitoring Shadowheart is extremely pleased with herself

After fights Shadowheart also checks on Tav first to heal them if they need it, always worried something bad will have happened to the tiny while she wasn’t looking.

When Tav finds out Shadowheart likes night orchids they start dropping off ones that they find in front of her tent. She doesn’t say anything about it, too worried the tiny will stop if she says anything, but she does appreciate it greatly

[evita-shelby]

No one but you

Or Buck and Diane won't leave me alone and they demanded an au of them getting together.

Cw: unplanned pregnancy, mentions of illegal abortions, cheating, spoilers for Masters of the Air (and some for Peaky Blinders since Diane is a Peaky Blinders OC)

Link to No one has to know

They shouldn’t have let come this far, and yet they are meeting up in a hotel room because neither can stop themselves from this. They loved each other, they were each other’s peace in this hell and yet, there was no guarantee this would change for the better tonight.

She waits for him on the bed that might as well be theirs considering how often they come here. She’s nervous, she’d broken up with Tom last time he was on leave because she knew he would never raise a baby that wasn’t his. It had hurt, she loved him, but she loved Gale, and it was his baby she was having.

He didn’t know yet. He would leave this room knowing that but whether he is willing to leave his Marjorie to raise a child with her is another thing entirely.

Diane had known of someone here who could take care of it before it even showed, and yet, she hadn’t wanted to erase a future with a blond-haired baby boy that was a perfect mix of them both.

John Gale Cleven, blonde haired with his smile and her mismatched eyes. Conceived in love and sin under a tree.

“Are you feeling better, Di. Helen said you weren’t in today because of it.” He asks with concern as he left his jacket on the hook and, for a moment, became Gale Cleven, not Major Gale Cleven with a sweetheart back home.

“Yeah, just needed some time off.” She smiles nervously and hates herself for not being careful. This was the last thing they needed, but she doesn’t want to get rid of it, and it’s better if she tells him now. “Actually, I need to talk to you about that.”

Buck knows exactly what she means and goes through every stage of grief--- except anger----as he crosses the room and joins her on the bed. “How far along are you?”

“A month, maybe more.” Diane answered avoiding his eyes, she has no idea why she’s bracing herself? Rejection? No, Gale Cleven isn’t the type to do that. Shame? Actually, both were already keeping their entire relationship a secret because both had someone waiting for them, so it could be that.

“Does your Tom know?” Gale held her hand in comfort, and she shook her head. He knew she’d ended things with Tom, but never the specifics of it.

“He thinks it’s just the guilt of our arrangement that led to me breaking things off with him. I didn’t want to make it worse when I still wasn’t sure if I was pregnant.” Diane leaned against his shoulder knowing her fears about him tossing her out like last week’s trash for getting pregnant. “You don’t have to do right by me, I have enough money to not care what people think of me as an unwed mother,”

That is a lie, the word whore will be thrown around enough for Gale to feel the insult all the way in America.

“I’d marry you even if there was no baby, Diane. At least we won’t have to hide any longer.” A small consolation even if it means setting themselves on fire to make this wrong into a right.

“A small consolation, isn’t it?”

And it is.

While what men did off the clock was no one’s business, Gale’s reputation of an honest and principled soldier does take a hit.

Bucky is angry on Marjorie’s behalf, and angry at him for not listening to him. Even worse for not telling him.

“I love her, Bucky, and she’s having my baby. I feel terrible for what I did to Marge, but its too late for that now.” He can’t just abandon his own child, and even if everything’s gone to hell, Buck can’t regret choosing Diane over Marge.

She understands what he’s going through, she is here and perfect and this was their only chance to be together.

“Can’t argue with that, Buck. So, when’s the wedding?” he gives him a pat on the shoulder, still smarting for this betrayal of their friendship and yet still there for him as always.

“As soon as her folks come from Birmingham, and we get a license. I don’t want to risk the baby being born on the wrong side of the sheets if I don’t come back.” Buck answered getting to the good part. “I was thinking of you being my best man.”

“Only if I can sing at your wedding.”

Even with Bucky’s caterwauling and the night bombings, it’s one of the happiest days in his life.

It’s September, when Gale Winston Cleven marries Diane Elizabeth Shelby a month and two weeks since they made love under their tree.

She looks beautiful, in a plain white dress and whatever flowers the children at the base managed to make into a bouquet for her.

He gets three days in London as his honeymoon, three days and two nights in a townhouse owned by Diane’s father, a man who understands why he can never accept a medal in this godforsaken war.

“I’ll come back; I promise. Take care of yourself and the baby, Di.” He said before every mission and kissed her goodbye because now she was Mrs. Gale Cleven not the nurse he pretended was only his friend.

The letters from home had come, angry, disappointed, and resigned. Marge’s had tearstains from crying, his mother was happy for him even if she compared him to his father, but they understood why he did this and wished them the best.

If she makes you happy in ways I couldn’t, then I hope the two of you will be happy together, Marge had written and with that her letters ceased all together, her photograph sent back and replaced with Diane on their wedding day.

When he asked her what she thought Tom did with his picture of her, she shrugged and answered, Tom had torn it up, burned the pieces, and tossed the ashes in the shitter.

But Tom and Marge were their past, Buck and Diane were now each other’s present and future.

“I love you.” The words still come as whispers, and yet they no longer carry the guilt or shame they used to come with.

He has six more missions to go.

Six more and he will get to see the mysterious Arrow House before going to train boys in the States. They’d have to face his family and friends sooner or later, sooner seemed better if it took them away from the bombs.

Being Mrs. Cleven is great, they are out in public as husband and wife with nothing to stop them. Some dirty looks are there because everyone knew about Tom and Marge and yet none of them can truly judge them because everyone sought comfort any way they could.

They are given a tiny house on the base because, they do provide space for married couples serving together. She does her work he does his and at the end of the day they are each other’s peace here.

Gale kisses her hungrily when he comes back from his missions, seeking release from his torments in her and relishing having no reason to stop loving each other anymore.

“Twenty-two. Three more and we get to go home.” Buck trails his fingers on her arm and kissed her shoulder so sweetly Di wished he didn’t have to go.

She had a bad feeling; she’d seen the results in the cards and felt a stab in her heart when Gale’s card came next in the sequence and known this was a mission he wouldn’t come back from. The young witch had told him about it, but he assured her he’d always come back to her.

He loves her and she loves him even if death tries to part them.

“I know, can’t wait to see where you grew up.” She pushed back the preemptive grief and smiled through it. She has good news too, something that will give him some bit of joy before everything goes to hell. “The cards say it’s a boy.”

He smiles broadly, almost silent in his joy as he embraces her tightly as they lay in bed. “Would you mind if we named him John?”

“Not at all, love.”

They decided on John Egan Cleven when he leaves for Bremen. Bucky would be his godfather, of course, and the godmother would be Janey Dogs, one of Diane’s best friends who happened to be Romani as well. Janey’s father, Johnny, had two wives even if it went against tradition and the law, but he was the exception amongst the families they traveled with, something Buck still couldn’t wrap his head around.’

“I’ll come back; I promise. Take care of yourself and the baby, Di.” Those are the last words he says before he goes on the mission he did not come back from.

No one save for Bucky understands the pain she feels and promises he will be avenged when they part ways, Bucky to Germany and Diane to her parent’s home in Birmingham.

Bucky’s captured two days after.

She writes to his mother to comfort her; she promises to use her dad’s and her own money and influence to find out what happened and if necessary, demand they return his body home.

He's not dead, Di feels it in her heart that he’s alive and tells his mother so.

They begin corresponding, taking comfort, and learning every little thing they can about Gale’s life before the war, during the war and now as he is held in a German Prisoner of War Camp.

Diane writes letters to him the moment she learns where he is, assures him they are fine here in Arrow House. She tells him about the estate, the gardens, about her family and how well she gets on with his mother through letters.

All of them holding anything that can help them survive long enough to escape the Germans. It takes a while for him to write back and sends Bucky’s apologies for getting captured too and asks her subtly what they should do next.

“You used to do the same with Marge’s letters,” Bucky points out as Buck inhaled the still fresh smell of Diane’s perfume in her letters.

It was as comforting as Marge’s had been back at Thorpe Abbotts, he had almost forgotten that. He still felt guilt for hurting her that way, but Gale couldn’t say he regretted choosing Diane and his son that day.

“I know. If I hadn’t fucked it up, they could’ve been friends.” The blond admits to seeing the similarities in the two women.

“What does Mrs. Cleven say?” Bucky asks as the most trusted of their men gather pretending to listen go on about his wife.

News from the front and what her readings say they should do are hidden in meaningless phrases, made up gossip and anything she can make up under the guise of a lovesick young bride. He writes back in a similar code asking her to ferry the information they manage to hide in love letters to anyone important enough to be of use.

Gale sees his twenty-sixth birthday at Stalag Luft III. He doesn’t tell her what he did to stay healthy enough to live, as far as she knows he’s being kept well. She tells him his namesake, Winston fucking Churchill, has put her in contact with Allied Intelligence to come up with a fool-proof escape plan when the invasion begins.

Stay put, stay safe, we will be waiting for you as we always are, she wrote.

Winter of 1943 turns to the spring of 1944 and on May 14th of 1944, John Egan Cleven is born in great health contrary to the lie of him being premature like they told his family.

On June 18th of that year, as his Father’s Day gift, Buck receives a photograph of his son and a lock of blonde hair wrapped in a thin ribbon with a code.

While the invasion of Europe had begun that summer, they couldn’t escape safely until 7 pm, January 27th, 1945.

“Di says evening of January 27th of next year. Do you think we can stay put until then?”

“Gives us enough time to plan this shit right.” Bucky lights up at the news and quickly forgets all the times he doubted Diane’s abilities for telling them to stay put. “Nurse, heiress, psychic and spy, you sure know how to pick them, Buck.”

“Meatball picked her, if anything I should be thanking DeMarco for the mutt.”

Seven months to have the allies close enough for them to escape safely.

And they do, with minimal casualties they reach allied soldiers after escaping during the Moosburg March on January 27th of 1945 at seven in the evening just as Diane had said.

“I told you; I’d come back, I always do.” Twelve days later, on February 8, 1945, he is reunited with his wife and his son at the same tree they fell in love under.

[emmy-dekarios-bg3]

Heart of the Weave - chapter 23

Gale walks into the bathroom, standing behind me with Jenevelle in his arms, and observing me for a moment with a puzzled expression on his face. What has him concerned? I confidently stare at myself in the mirror, worries erased from my mind and feeling more than content all around. I pull my thick, curly brown hair down from a messy bun and let it bounce freely just above my shoulders.

“Is everything alright, my beautiful wife?” he questions, then kisses the top of my head, under the impression that something could be bothering me. I smile wholeheartedly and turn to face him, wrapping my arms around his torso as I lean my head on his chest.

“I’ve never been better.” He brushes my messy bangs out of my face with his free hand, staring into my eyes. It was then he realized I meant every word, and he proceeded to smile back at me. What story do my eyes tell, I wonder?

“Good. I have a ‘turn up for the books’ for you, once you’re finished giving Shadowheart her gift basket. Once you get home, get ready for a spectacular surprise ahead this evening.” Oh goodness, what could be in store for us tonight? Gale is very spontaneous, and I wish I could be more like that. I keep telling myself I will.

“A surprise? What for?” I ask, pretending to be shocked as if my birthday isn’t next week. He rolls his eyes playfully and shakes his head.

“Well, if I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise now would it?” I shrug and playfully pout, though he knows I hate surprises so he probably believes I’m serious. “How about we all go visit Shadowheart and Astarion together? I’m sure she’d love to see Jenevelle.” My face lights up, because I also realize this means Jenevelle will get to see another baby, though who knows how she will react?

“Great idea. Plus, I’m sure Shadowheart needs some adult interaction that isn’t Astarion. Don’t get me wrong, I adore the guy, but I’m sure these past few days she’s been needing some time…outside of that. The adjustment is tough I’m sure. Wait, you want to see Astarion don’t you?” Gale and Astarion have become rather great friends and recently, Astarion will come over to hang out every now and then. Safe to say they actually hang out and get along. Gale never really had many friends – if any at all – so it’s nice to see them get close. Plus, he’s been giving Astarion parenting advice, though with Jenevelle not being able to age, he won’t be able to assist when their kid gets older.

“Hey now, it’s perfectly acceptable for a man to want time with good acquaintances every now and then. It’s of the essence that I partake in social interactions with others, though years ago I’d laugh if someone told me a close acquaintance would be a vampire.”

“Acquaintances?” He chuckles and rubs my back gently.

“Fine, fine. We’re good friends.”

After a while, we finally left the tower to bring over the gift basket I had made, and to socialize with our friends. The stroll through Waterdeep is so calm and unnerving, and there’s so many reasons why: the vibrant summer flowers on every corner, the scents of fruits and vegetables overwhelming our senses, and the quiet chatter of people sitting outside the library. We stop by my favorite herbal tea shop and I get a delicious dandelion tea with honey, and nobody makes it better than they do.

Shortly after walking away from the tea shop and continuing our walk toward Shadowheart and Astarion’s cottage, I hear a loud and easily recognizable voice in the distance and, surprise, it’s Karlach. I know we don’t live far from each other at all, but it manages to surprise me regardless each time I run into her. I guess it’s still an adjustment.

“Emmy! Gale! Miniature Dekarios! How are my favorite immortal humans?” she says ecstatically, her arm wrapped around Wyll’s as they’re strutting through town. They both look rather happy, and it seems they’re just strolling through the city casually.

“Well, fancy seeing you here!” I exclaim. “I’d hug you but Jenevelle is wrapped in her little…well, baby wrap. Anyway, we’re doing well. We’re on our way to visit Shadowheart and her new baby. Oh, and Astarion of course. I’m sure she’s exhausted.”

“Listen, I may not be having kids ever, but I do get to live vicariously through my favorite people. Don’t let Wyll’s father hear me saying that.”

“Yeah, unfortunately the old man’s been begging for grandkids. I have to tell him ‘we’re working on it,’ though that’s beyond false,” Wyll chimes in. “Then again, you never know what’s in store for us. Our lives are full of surprises as it is.”

True. Who knew they’d find a forge in Avernus to fix Karlach’s ‘heart’? Who knew Wyll would sell his soul to fight for the Hells and save Karlach’s life by bringing her with him? Their lives sure have a lot of stories, ones needing to be told to the world. Hopefully they do end up telling the Duke grandchildren probably won’t happen for him. It seems they just want to live their life without kids, and that’s totally reasonable as it is.

“Say, Gale, are Wyll and I still coming by tonight to watch little Jenevelle? If so, I’m PUMPED!”

“Wait, huh?” My tone is full of confusion, as it should be. I knew Gale had a surprise for me, but didn’t realize we’d be leaving Jenevelle at home with our friends. I thought it would be a family outing, but I’m not complaining either way.

“Baby, that…was supposed to be a surprise,” Wyll reminds her, followed by a sigh. “Good gravy.”

“Fuck! I forgot! You know, eventually I’ll have a higher intelligence one of these days. Well, probably not.” Gale sighs and rolls his eyes, but smiles at her in forgiveness. We all know how she is, and we all love her anyway. What would life be like without her?

“Don’t sweat it, Karlach. Sometimes, the mind likes to wander off and leave behind crucial information. We all go through it,” Gale mutters with a soft tone, still smiling. Gods, I love this man.

“Why do I feel like that was a shot at my horrible memory?”

“I assure you, it was not. Now, I’ll see you both tonight. I appreciate you attending to watch our little one. You truly are one of the most reliable people we’ve ever met. For that, I thank you. Truly.”

“Hey, don’t mention it. I will snag these opportunities any chance I get.”

Wyll and Karlach take occasional breaks from Avernus; in fact, I’m not even sure when they went last. I also haven’t heard Wyll talk about Mizora in a long time, but I’m sure I’m just overthinking it. It’s worth asking about at some point.

We finally make it to Shadowheart and Astarion’s house after a nice long strut through the beauties of Waterdeep. Their cottage is a little further away from civilization, but the small journey was worth it. Also, I can’t exactly blame them for wanting to stay away from people, especially Astarion.

“Come on in, you two!” Shadowheart seems beyond thrilled that we’re here, and I can’t say I wouldn’t feel the same way. After having a baby, I wanted social interaction so badly; Shadowheart was one of the first to come through and get me through the loneliness while Gale was at the Academy. We step into her cozy, lovely home, and I immediately notice the insane amount of plants that take up an entire room in one part of their home. Astarion approaches us, holding their tiny little elf baby who appears to be sleeping. He has thick strawberry blonde hair and pale skin; you’d think he’s their biological child.

“Ah, if it isn’t our dearest friends. I know what everyone is thinking: ‘Astarion, your hair is a mess! When was the last time you groomed it?’ I’ll have you know, I haven’t exactly had time to maintain this luscious mane.” Gale and I chuckle, but understand exactly what he means.

“That sounds about right. Do not fret, my friend, you look fine,” I comment. “Besides, you should have seen Gale’s hair the first couple weeks.”

“Well, that’s comforting at least. You know, I never once visualized myself as a dad. The thought of children terrified me. Disgusted me. Then, when I saw you two have your baby, something…changed. It’s like a switch was turned on or something… Ask Gale. We talked all about this a few weeks ago. He talked me through the nerves and…well, it isn’t so bad. I love the little spawn.”

“It doesn’t help that the adoption was so last minute. I always wanted children, but never had a plan. The opportunity presented itself unexpectedly. Needless to say, we’re so happy, and at first we were both so afraid,” Shadowheart adds. It seems they really are happy. They stare at each other amorously, then simultaneously look at their sleeping child. He’s so tiny. I handed her the gift basket I had made for them that contained a little quilted blanket, a mini crochet owlbear, a few clothed diapers, a rattle, and some bibs. “Emmy, this…is amazing. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.” I can see deep within her green eyes the sincere gratitude and love. What can I say? She’s one of my best friends; I don’t even remember the friends I used to have growing up, if I even had any.

“Don’t mention it. I’m glad to have done this.”

We enjoy the following hour or so just sitting outside and enjoying a few cups of tea. Astarion and Gale catch up, and they’re showing the babies off to each other. Jenevelle seems rather confused, but a little happy nonetheless. The other baby is a little too new to understand what’s going on, but he seems like an easy going child. Shadowheart asked me for tips on several topics, which I could only assist with so much considering Jenevelle is forever a three-month-old immortal baby.

As we all watch the sun begin to set, radiating a glorious apricot aura, I begin to think how life really is so incredible, and it’s even better having company to enjoy it with.

[peetapiepita]

Katniss Everdeen and her complex links to cats

Never thought I’d write an entire essay on Katniss and cats, but here we are.

I got this idea from the fact that the male lead of my other favorite series His Dark Materials, Will Parry, has a cat Daemon. (It basically means his soul takes on the form of a cat and I think it might be the same case with Katniss.) He was compared to and linked to cats throughout the story. The same goes for Katniss and she has such a cat-like personality when you think about it.

I also got inspired by a stray cat who suddenly scratched me lightly when I was playing with it. It was getting along with me so well, but scratched me with absolutely no warning and got back to being friendly and purring in an instant. That reminded me of Katniss.

We all know how Katniss hates cats and cat-like creatures, specifically Buttercup and the lynx who was following her around the woods. They both had complex relationships with her as well. Buttercup had a reason to distrust her, yet they were the only ones who could really feel the loss of Prim the same way, so Katniss found comfort in Buttercup at the end of Mockingjay. The lynx was trusting Katniss for no reason and she was conflicted about it because she’s protective in nature and she hated she had to hurt it, but she did it for survival anyway.

This is true of Katniss’ relationship with herself in a way. She tries not to argue for herself ever and lists all her imperfections constantly.

Of course, her relationships with cat-like creatures is not the only thing linking her to cats. She has a very cat-like personality, especially when she interacts with Peeta.

People familiar with cats would tell you that with most cats, even when they act like they don’t give a shit about you and even avoid you, they actually take notice of the humans around them and when you’re kind to them, they’re drawn to you by default. They may try to act indifferent, but it shows.

It’s exactly how Katniss is in her relationship with Peeta. She tries so hard to convince herself that she isn’t drawn to him and doesn’t need him. But when she’s at her most vulnerable, she trusts him and wants him around.

For instance, when she hurts her ankle in Catching Fire, she trusts Peeta to understand what happened and leans on him for support. He in turn delivers a brilliant performance for the peacekeeper and understands that Katniss was hurt while the others are oblivious, even her family. When she’s under the influence of sleep syrup and at her most vulnerable, she’s finally willing to admit she wants Peeta to stay and hold her, even when moments earlier, she was like, I choose the rebellion and Gale. And when they’re on the train to the Quarter Quell, she finally lets herself get loose and initiates an intimate hug. She doesn’t want to let go and is annoyed when they’re interrupted. She’s practically purring when touched by Peeta because she feels safe with him. That’s so cat-like.

These are so cat behaviour to me. It also makes sense that I see a lot writers giving Katniss lines like “I’m not good with words, I work better with actions.” Yes, she’s like that and that’s very cat-like. And with cat-like people, when they get attached to someone, they don’t let go. This is also part of why Will reminded me of Katniss. He literally goes through a bunch of worlds in search of Lyra after losing her. Katniss is like that with Peeta. When she loses him, she’s inconsolable. She’d do anything to get him back.

Last but not the least, Katniss’ name is also very similar to “cat”. I’ve seen quite a few people’s head canons with other character nicknaming her “Kat”. Once you make the connection, you can’t unsee it.

[pocketseizure]

A Noble Pursuit

None of the lessons from the Gerudo Classroom have prepared Rhondson for married life with Hudson, who has grown restless and disappeared from Tarrey Town a year after its founding. She travels to the Akkala Citadel Ruins to hunt for her husband while reflecting on the bridges that will need to be rebuilt in order for Hyrule to embrace a peaceful future.

This story about archaeology, castles, ruins, cultural differences, giant monster friends, and what it means “to live happily ever after” was written for @memorabiliazine​, and it’s also on AO3 (here). The accompanying illustrations are by the stylish scholar @pocketwei​.

. . . . . . . . . .

This wasn’t the first time Rhondson had set off on a husband hunt.

It was late summer, almost a year after the ghost of the Great Calamity vanished from the castle. Most of Hyrule was still green, but the first touches of red and gold had already begun to appear on the trees of Akkala. It was chilly when Rhondson left Tarrey Town, but the morning fog had lifted and the sky was crystal clear.

Rhondson had always enjoyed mornings. Most people woke up early in the desert and took a nap during the worst heat of the afternoon so that they could stay up late into the evening. Rhondson kept the same schedule in Tarrey Town, a practice that Hudson found inexplicably upsetting. He complained, almost every day now, that she never went to bed with him. He insisted that a man and his wife should fall asleep together. Rhondson explained that she enjoyed sewing by lamplight at night, when the world is quiet and even the plainest thread shines like gold, but he refused to understand.

Hudson had recently grown restless. Perhaps it was because of the tension in their relationship, or perhaps it was only the change of season, but he left Tarrey Town one afternoon and never returned. Ashai’s classes hadn’t prepared Rhondson for this. They’d talked so much about how to catch a man, but never about how to keep him. She wondered if other vai had the same problem. All of the romances she read when she was younger ended with a “happily ever after,” but what was supposed to happen the next day? And the day after that?

All things considered, Rhondson was content with her life in Tarrey Town. Her feelings about the settlement had been ambiguous at first. The location was out-of-the-way, to say the least, but the town received more visitors than she’d expected. The son of the two Sheikah researchers who lived in an old lighthouse up on the northern cliffs made his living as a traveling merchant of fine clothing, and he saw to it that Rhondson always had work. Tarrey Town was unique in its appeal as a marketplace for goods from all over Hyrule, and Hudson’s brightly painted modular houses had become something of a tourist attraction. He’d been flooded with orders for summer rental homes, and a satellite community had sprung up on the other side of the bridge to satisfy the demand.

Hudson managed to keep himself busy, but he seemed to harbor doubts about establishing Tarrey Town on such a small island. To make matters worse, many of the people who’d come to town for the summer were starting to drift away as the days became shorter. Perhaps they were worried about Akkala’s infamous autumn thunderstorms. Rhondson happened to enjoy the heavy rains, whose gale winds and lightning crashes reminded her of the sandstorms back home, but she understood how the violent weather and sudden drop in temperature might put off people who weren’t accustomed to the climate. She’d camped at more than a few oasis waystations during her travels, and she knew it was perfectly natural for the population of a place like Tarrey Town to wax and wane with the season.

Rhondson tried to explain to Hudson how it was normal for people to come and go. Many of the town residents were nomadic by nature, she said, and they had no excuse not to indulge their wanderlust now that it was safe to travel. Hudson adamantly refused to listen. He insisted that a man’s home was his castle. But why not have two castles, Rhondson objected. And people would come back next summer, she reasoned. They’d had to hire new workers to perform upkeep on the vacation homes during the winter, after all, so it wasn’t as though the population was shrinking. If he was feeling ambitious, she added with a wink, they might be able to add their own contribution to the town’s population.

“I’m just not sure how long this town will last,” Hudson replied, ending the conversation with a sigh.

His admission put Rhondson ill at ease, and she couldn’t help recalling Hudson’s anxiety when she realized that he hadn’t come home during the night. “Sometimes you have to treat voe like children,” Ashai had once explained. “There will be times when they take action without thinking about how it will affect you, but it’s likely that their behavior comes from simple thoughtlessness, not spite.” Rhondson didn’t know about that. She’d met enough silly and immature vai in her life to understand that voe didn’t have a monopoly on being pigheaded. Still, if Hudson had gone out and gotten himself lost, purposefully or otherwise, she might as well go find him.

Rhondson set out from Tarrey Town and walked due south, pacing herself as she made her way up the gentle slope of the hills leading to Upland Zorana. Once the mountains began in earnest, she turned west at the road leading to the old stone quarry and kept going until she could see the waterfalls at the source of Lake Akkala.

She’d crossed the Sokkala Bridges when she first came to Tarrey Town instead of taking the longer road to the north, and she was just as impressed by them now as she was then. The log bridges were simple structures, really, not much more than planks laid over support pillars embedded in the banks of the rivulets flowing from the waterfall basin, but they were sturdy and well-constructed. A traveler could cross them with ease, secure enough in their footing to look up and appreciate the rainbows that danced in the misty spray of the waterfalls.

Not every bridge needed to be the Bridge of Hylia, Rhondson thought. Perhaps it was better if most bridges weren’t, in fact. The Bridge of Hylia was a magnificent piece of work, to be sure, but it seemed as though it was already in a state of disrepair even before the Great Calamity. Judging from the conversations between Hudson and his former boss Bolson, no living stonemason had any idea how to repair its gargantuan supports. Meanwhile, more modest structures like the Sokkala Bridges could be maintained whenever the need arose. In their own way, the Sokkala Bridges were just as important at the Bridge of Hylia, even if they never became monuments.

As she crossed the final bridge, Rhondson could see the hazy outline of Akkala Citadel rising in the west. Its massive size was impressive, but she couldn’t imagine it being particularly beneficial to anyone. Truth be told, the ruins weren’t much more than a glorified pile of old stone bricks that could almost certainly be put to better use elsewhere. Speaking of which, Rhondson was starting to get an inkling of where Hudson might have gotten himself off to. “A man’s home is his castle,” he liked to say, and how intriguing it must have been to have an actual castle so close to home, especially if its materials could be repurposed.

Rhondson headed north when the road forked and made her way across the old high bridge over the river, carefully navigating the deep fissures in the stone. Once she was safely on the other side, she began climbing the winding path up the mountain.

The leaves of the trees on the upper slopes of the hill had already turned a bold shade of crimson, and the weathered steel of the Sheikah Tower gleamed in the sun. Rumor had it that the citadel used to be patrolled by Guardians, but nothing confronted Rhondson save for a few moss-covered remnants of ceramic casing. Parts of the road had been washed away in a landslide, probably after the Malice swamp dried up, but the majority of the paving stones were still intact.

Rhondson entered the gatehouse at the foot of the outer wall surrounding the citadel. The inside was littered with rubble from a century-old battle, and the remains of more recent Bokoblin campfires were scattered across the floor. A partially overturned Guardian occupied a corner of the room, its segmented legs folded neatly underneath its casing like the paws of a sleeping cat. When she first set out from the desert, Rhondson had been terrified of encountering a Guardian, but she’d grown fond of the broken bits and pieces of their chassis that had been left beside Hyrule’s roads to remind travelers to remain vigilant. Their round faces and decoratively textured bodies were actually a bit cute, like oversized toys.

Rhondson passed through the gatehouse and entered a small courtyard. The walls of the citadel rose on every side of the open space, but the gaps between turrets were wide enough for the sun to shine through and warm the paving stones. One side of the courtyard was dominated by a large alcove that was probably used to shelter horses. The bare soil under the dilapidated wooden awning was covered in pale green scrub bush and dotted with bright yellow wildflowers.

A covered walkway ran along the opposite wall, connecting the gatehouse to the larger body of the citadel. As Rhondson followed the shaded path, she imagined how heavily the snowfall would accumulate at this altitude. She didn’t envy the soldiers tasked with shoveling duty. She glanced at the enormous wooden door that marked the entrance to the main hall, but its iron fittings were orange with rust. Thankfully, the smaller door at the end of the walkway was barely hanging by its hinges, and Rhondson had no trouble pushing it open.

She called Hudson’s name into the shadows of the citadel. Aside from the echo of her own voice, there was no answer. It probably wasn’t safe to go inside, but she had already come so far. Rhondson figured that she may as well make sure that Hudson wasn’t here before she left. 

The interior of the fortress wasn’t nearly as impressive as its silhouette. The entryway was much smaller than she expected, and the floor was made of packed earth. As Rhondson’s eyes adjusted to the gloom, she could see that the wooden beams of the ceiling were exposed. They were dark with ash. The smoke had probably come from the tall braziers secured to the pillars set into the stone walls.

Rhondson walked across the hall, glancing around her with interest. A few piles of old leaves moldered just inside the open service door, but the room was remarkably clean. The tapestries displayed in the bays between pillars still retained some of their color, and wooden weapons racks still clung to the stone walls next to the main gate. Rhondson realized that the earth floor must absorb the humidity of summer and the chill of winter, keeping the wood and cloth relatively preserved. The layer of ash coating the wooden beams of the ceiling probably helped protect them from the elements as well.

Large passageways ringed with shallow arches connected the central hall to the east and west wings, but Rhondson was more interested in a spiral staircase carved into the back wall. Although she had to bend her head to enter, the stairs bore her weight. Each step dipped slightly toward the middle from centuries of use. As she climbed to the next floor, Rhondson was amused by the thought of walking in the footsteps of people who had lived so long ago.

The room above was much smaller than the citadel’s entrance, but its ceiling was almost as high. The walls were constructed of the same unpainted white limestone as the fortress exterior. Their rough surfaces were irregularly broken by small rectangular windows positioned slightly above eye level. Some of the glass panes were missing, allowing a cool breeze to enter the bright and sun-warmed space, but the floorboards were level and seemed solid enough

Rhondson began to make her way from room to room. Her first thought was that the haphazard layout was due to poor planning, but she gradually realized that different parts of the Akkala Citadel must have been built at different times, more than likely after various battles. Very few furnishings remained in the deserted fortress, but the architecture differed so drastically between rooms that it was clear she was walking through different periods of history. Rhondson was amazed by the evolution of the windows, which became larger and more ornate as she walked. She imagined that this was what Hyrule Castle must look like, an amalgamation of architectural styles that had grown and transformed along with the kingdom itself.

Rhondson enjoyed her stroll through the ruins, but Hudson was nowhere to be found. The sun was already low in the sky, so she made her way outside and began her descent. From her vantage point at the top of the path, she could see a flat patch of land at the base of the hill. The soldiers stationed here must have used it as a parade ground for exercise and training. It would be as good a place as any to make camp.

Dusk had begun to gather by the time she arrived on the field, and the shadows lay long across the tall grass. Rhondson didn’t see the Hinox immediately, but she could smell it. The odor wasn’t unpleasant, but it was unmistakable. As soon as she realized that she wasn’t alone, Rhondson turned to leave. Most Hinoxes tended to ignore the travelers that wandered into their vicinity, but she didn’t want to take any chances.

Without warning, the Hinox bellowed. Its scream sent startled birds up from the nearby trees in a rush of beating wings and angry squawking. Rhondson prepared herself to make a run for her life, but she was stopped in her tracks by a voice she would recognize anywhere.

“Don’t cry, you big baby. It only stings at first. You’ll feel better in two shakes of a blupee’s tail.”

Rhondson shook her head with amusement as she walked across the field toward the source of the voice. The Hinox pouted at her, giant tears spilling from its eye.

“Hudson?”

The broad-shouldered man crouching beside the Hinox jerked his head up. “Rhondson? What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing. I came looking for you. Is this where you’ve been this whole time?”

“I meant to come back last night,” Hudson replied, averting his eyes. “But this oaf hurt his foot while helping me clear away the rubble on the path up the mountain, and I couldn’t just leave him like this. The wound would have suppurated, and he’s all alone out here.”

Rhondson gave the Hinox a closer look and saw that it – he – had a deep gash on his heel. Hudson was cleaning it with a balled-up wad of fabric. If she wasn’t mistaken, it was the first workshirt she’d sewn for him. She’d made it just as they were starting to get to know one another, before she knew his measurements, and it fit him poorly. She asked him to throw it away and bury it with the compost months ago, but he’d apparently kept it. Hudson was surprisingly sentimental for a man who insisted on utility over decoration. It was one of the things she liked about him.

Rhondson smiled as she shrugged her pack onto the ground and dug out a jar of safflina salve. As Hudson helped her dress the Hinox’s wound, he explained that he had indeed come here to assess the state of the stonework. He assumed the citadel would be in ruins, but the structure was still sound. It would be a shame to dismantle it. With a few minor renovations, it would be almost as good as new. Still, making it more habitable would mean reducing its efficacy as a fortress.

“But what does that matter?” Rhondson asked. “Who’s going to attack it?”

“There are monsters roaming about, and…”

“Does this ‘monster’ look like he’s going to attack anyone?”

The Hinox had fallen asleep as they talked and was snoring lightly.

“He’s not a monster,” Hudson replied with a frown.

“Exactly. It seems to me that you’re already thinking about hiring him to work for you.”

“I’m not… Well, I guess I am. Having a Hinox around would be useful, especially if I decide to fix up this place, but we’d have to knock down some of the interior walls to make more room for him.”

Rhondson winced as she remembered all the times she’d banged her forehead on Hylian doorways. Now that she thought about it, there was no reason for those doors to be so low in the first place, especially not when her husband could so easily make them more accommodating. “Weren’t you planning to knock down the walls anyway?” she pointed out. “You could use the materials to repair the bridge.”

“But it’s disrespectful not to honor the past,” Hudson objected. “Shouldn’t the history of the Akkala Citadel be preserved?”

“It’s in ruins.” Rhondson put a hand on his shoulder. “One day you’ll have to come with me to visit my family. Everything in Gerudo Town is built on top of history. Nothing gets done if you worry about preserving the past as it once was. Living things change, and that includes old castles like this.”

“Maybe it includes towns too,” Hudson replied. “I guess it won’t be so bad if Tarrey Town grows. We could have a sister city maybe, right here on this hill. It would be a convenient waystation for travelers.” He thought for a moment. “And a good place for Hinoxes, too. It’s built on their scale, at least, and they’re all over Akkala. It’s a shame they always have to sleep in the open. Besides, Mason looks like he could use a friend. He’ll be lonely without me.”

Mason? Rhondson grinned at the name her husband had assigned to the Hinox. “Are you going to bring him home, then?” she asked.

“Home is wherever you are, Rhondson. We’ll go wherever you like. I missed you.”

“I missed you too, but we can spend a night or two away from Tarrey Town. I’d like to go back to the citadel tomorrow morning. I don’t think anyone has been inside this place for at least a hundred years.”

The sun had finally set, and stars were beginning to shine in the deepening indigo of the twilight sky. Rhondson smiled as she pictured the castle on the hill once again filled with lights. There was a certain charm to speculating on what the past might have been like, but the future held much more potential for imagination.

[captainseaweedbrains]

The Hunger Games Again Ch. 6 Thoughts

I am chugging through finally! Here are my rambling thoughts on chapter 6: 

I remember our Carson’s had a see-through elevator in it and I used to *love* going up and down it as a child. This just reminds me how young and pure Katniss is wanting to ride the elevator again. 

She and Haymitch will be overseeing us right into the arena. In a way, that's a plus because at least she can be counted on to corral us around to places on time whereas we haven't seen Haymitch since he agreed to help us on the train.// I am just imagining these two wandering aimlessly if they were just left in Haymitch’s charge and have a little chuckle

Effie knows everyone who's anyone in the Capitol and has been talking us up all day, trying to win us sponsors.

"I've been very mysterious, though," she says, her eyes squint half shut. "Because, of course, Haymitch hasn't bothered to tell me your strategies. But I've done my best with what I had to work with. How Katniss sacrificed herself for her sister. How you've both successfully struggled to overcome the barbarism of your district." // Similar to the prep team, I cannot help but love her because Effie is just so tone deaf to how she comes off. It's funny. 

what's she basing our success on? Our table manners? // You absolutely know she is, Katniss

I said, and this was very clever of me, I said, 'Well, if you put enough pressure on coal it turns to pearls!'" Effie beams at us so brilliantly that we have no choice but to respond enthusiastically to her cleverness even though it's wrong. // It’s stuff like this that endears me and everyone just goes along even though they’re like “wtf. No, idiot.” *wipes tear* You’re so stupid, Effie. I love you.

"But don't worry, I'll get him to the table at gunpoint if necessary." // It is with a curling wand and she is lethal with it

Yo. Sign me up for this instant dryer and hair detangler. I need that NOW. 

A meal presided over by just Effie and Haymitch is bound to be a disaster. // I would pay to see it. And they totally do after the war Yes I am a Haffie shipper Don’t @ me

Katniss, you are not wrong. Sweet wine is the best. 

Haymitch showing up right as the food is coming out is my kind of style. No, I don’t want to socialize. I am here to eat and I need to make that as clear as possible. 

I wonder who’s the unfortunate soul who is stuck cleaning Haymitch up. Do you get paid enough for such a task? Probably not

Last time I mention it, but ughhhhhhhh with the food descriptions. 

Katniss’ reaction to seeing Lavinia warms my heart for whatever reason and then I get sad because it’s connected to sadness

Peeta coming to Katniss’ slightly drunk rescue...What a saint. 

WHAT DID DELLY EVER DO TO YOU, KATNISS? Calling her LUMPY? Part of me wonders, because clearly Peeta is close to Delly as childhood friends and the fact he thinks of her right away despite the two girls looking nothing alike, if there is a tiny itsy bitsy part of Katniss that is jealous of her. Maybe not so much because Delly and Peeta are close (though perhaps…), but I imagine Delly can easily thank people and talk to people and Katniss, bless her caring heart, does not have that natural skill. So there’s bitterness there and Katniss turns that bitterness into unfair slander on my girl. SLANDER. 

Again, can we just talk about how these two work so well as a team? Picking up easily where the other leaves off? Amazing. Brilliant. We stan.

I still have many thoughts on Cinna and the hand holding. Clearly he was working with the rebellion and they were waiting for the right match to set it going. Maybe Cinna was just wiggling his way in and more like opportunity came a knocking? 

When we get to my door, he leans against the frame, not blocking my entrance exactly but insisting I pay attention to him.//Peeta, your popular jock boy self is showing.

Maybe sharing a confidence will actually make him believe I see him as a friend.// I know you don’t fully trust him, Katniss, but your subconscious seems to disagree with you if you’re willing to share anything with him.

I really enjoy how SC does this. She distracts us with the flash and glamor and then swiftly reminds us of the horrors that is Panem and the whole reason Peeta and Katniss are here. So similar to how we handle information today and how the news and government try to change our focus to other things to hide from the big, scary picture.

*cries because they read each other so well and pick up meaning behind what the other is actually saying* 

You do have the sense that we might be under surveillance here. // They are, no worries

Lmao at it just being such an obvious thing that Katniss and her dad hunt(ed). I know the Mellarks trade(d) with them, but still funny. The not-so secret of the district

There was a moment, after the bird call, but before the hovercraft, where the girl had seen us. She'd locked eyes with me and called out for help.// I love when Katniss tells stories of her past. It’s so haunting and somber. Very clear to picture, and the obvious guilt she feels here. Gets me every time. 

Peeta takes off his jacket and wraps it around my shoulders. I start to take a step back, but then I let him, deciding for a moment to accept both his jacket and his kindness. A friend would do that, right? // *weeps* Peeta is such a good egg. A true gentleman. Yes, Katniss, accept his kindness. 

HOLD THE FRONT DOOR. He *buttons* the coat? Peeta is really going all “Last few days of life. We’re just going for it.” 

The 1950s vibe of giving the girlfriend the letterman jacket I feel in this Chile’s tonight

And now begins Terri’s frequent comment about how Peeta Mellark is a rebellious boy by nature and does not get the credit he deserves by helping set the building blocks for Katniss later on in the book/series

Sldkmflm PEETA, YOU ARE SO OBVIOUS. Asking about Gale all ~casually. iS He yoUr CoUsIN??? As if you don’t know. 

Peeta is a really good liar, yes, Katniss. but he would never lie to you

I find it interesting that Peeta flat out says Mr. M probably wanted a daughter, yet in fandom, it’s Mrs. M.. Interesting. 

The idea that I might ever have been discussed, around the dinner table, at the bakery fire, just in passing in Peeta's house gives me a start. It must have been when the mother was out of the room.// Now all I’m imagining is Peeta talking about Katniss to Delly, his confidant, and her just patting his head. 

It seems impolite to say she never mentioned the baker except to compliment his bread // Dang, Mrs. E.. Show us how you truly feel. 

We're at my door. I give back his jacket. "See you in the morning then."

"See you," he says, and walks off down the hall.// 

I know Katniss is going through A Lot right now, but child, pick up your clothes before you shower. 

At least she apologizes. 

But still. 

You don't forget the face of the person who was your last hope. // Honestly, one of the best lines of the whole series. Fight me on that, but it’s so true. 

I wonder if Katniss has anxiety with how her thought process goes with the guilt and her feeling like she’s not good enough, etc..

On to the next chapter!

[katnissmellarkkk]

Okay, here we go! Imma do my liveblog of The Hunger Games, Chapter One, for #THGagain :

I’ll put my thoughts underneath the cut so I don’t clog up the dash 🥳

Okay but right off the bat, Katniss says her mattress cover is rough 🥺. I don’t know, this just made me sad all of a sudden.

So okay, but the fact that Prim had a bad dream and climbed in with their mother? I don’t know if that indicates that Prim still sees their mother as a source of comfort whereas Katniss can’t let herself feel the same way or if it’s just because she didn’t want to wake Katniss.

Maybe it’s supposed to be that Prim is too naive to understand that their mother is mentally fragile? Since in Mockingjay, she says “I know there’s only so much mother can hear,” or something like that, as a way to prove she’s not a little kid anymore sooo. I don’t know. Just some thoughts.

Katniss is shady towards mama right off the bat 🤣. Katniss is shady no matter what though. It��s what makes her narration sound like a teenage girl.

If Katniss is so anti-social though, who’s telling her her mother was once beautiful?

As a cat lover, I take offense to Katniss’ insults to the poor one eyed furball 😭.

So coal miners are also women? I suspected as much but I didn’t realize it was explicitly stated? So if Katniss’ life had gone differently, would she have become a coal miner?

So none of the houses in Twelve get electricity outside of a couple hours a night? Or just in the Seam?

I always forget that Katniss had nightmares even before the games 😔😔😔. Nightmares of her father “being blown to bits.” She has a vivid way with words.

Her father made her bow 🥺🥺. I knew that. I just thought I should mention it again. She uses the bow her father handmade throughout the series 🥺.

Also she says Peacekeepers turn a blind eye to “the few of them who hunt”. A few is more than two. Who else besides Katniss and Gale go hunting?

I like that she randomly starts mumbling to herself 🤣🤣🤣

Once upon a time, Katniss was outspoken apparently. But she mentions that she has to hold her tongue even at home because Prim may repeat her words. I don’t know why, but Prim seems immature for twelve years old. At twelve, in today’s society, you’re going into sixth grade. A sixth grader should know how to keep a secret or hold her tongue.

Gale says she never smiles but in the woods but isn’t that the only place they really spend time together? 🤣

“I kind of liked that lynx but I liked the money I got for it’s pelt more” 😂😂😂

An arrow inside bread. How fortuitous 😭😭😭

I do love that Katniss’ first introduction of Gale is “he could be my brother”

“But we’re at least not that closely related” 🤦🏼‍♀️🤦🏼‍♀️🤦🏼‍♀️

“Katniss, get off your cousin”

Even though the merchant class is smaller

Meaning they’re even more inbred

And Katniss is half merch-

Okay I’m done with this line of thinking 🤭😅

So backwoods 🤣

So did Mrs. Everdeen’s parents disown her? Or what? Do they still own that apothecary shop? Does Katniss occasionally walk by her grandparents in the town square? Like I’d like more context here, Suz 🙃

Aww, I always feel so bad for Katniss when she talks about her mother abandoning her 😭😩🥺

“But to be honest, I’m not the forgiving type” me either. Me either 🤧.

This may be why I so closely relate to her when she’s angry.

And why when people in the book say she needs to be more forgiving (ala Haymitch) I’m like “no”

I’m sorry but on second glance (more like 8th glance because I’ve read this chapter since I was 16) it’s so obvious Gale was hitting on her here 😅.

She’s oblivious 🤣🤣🤣

As she should be 😆

So later on, in the second book at least, Katniss definitely has some high respect for Hazelle Hawthorne. But here it seems to be like she’s implying Hazelle and her own mother are useless without her and Gale, and like they wouldn’t be able to provide for themselves. Maybe Hazelle just wasn’t fleshed out to Suzanne when she wrote the first book, the same way the love triangle you can tell if you look is sort of just tossed in there in the first book too? Anyways, just a thought.

That line about Prim being the only person Katniss is certain that she loves is sweet (it’s actually one of my favorite lines in the series) but it’s also so shady at the same time 😅😅😅. Like girl, you’re not sure if you love your mother or even your best friend (in a platonic way)?

Katniss makes a point in mentioning it took a long time for her and Gale to become friends. And I feel like that has been simplified a lot along the way, but it never really sounded to me like Katniss and Gale were besties for as long as most people think. The movies are a lot to blame for this, I know.

I don’t actually think Katniss is truly jealous here of the other girls wanting Gale? I feel like if she were she would have unconsciously insulted the school girls who were into him instead of just outright saying she was jealous, just not for romantic reasons. But who knows 🤷🏼‍♀️.

It was already mentioned earlier but I think Suzanne made a continuity error here, when Gale and Katniss mentioned fishing at the lake. The lake is a place Katniss explicitly mentioned in Catching Fire, to be private between her and her father. She even specially said she never took Gale there. I feel much better about my own writing continuity errors now.

Okay, both Katniss and Gale are so dumb. I would never prepare a feast for after the reaping. They’re just jinxing themselves. I have OCD really bad no one come for me.

I like how The Hob is a black market that’s literally just sitting in broad daylight 🤣🤣🤣.

Katniss just referenced being attacked by dogs... um I’m sorry, do we have no fear of rabies in this universe? 😭😭🙃🙃😐😐😅😅

Katniss : “me and the mayor’s daughter aren’t friends, we just hang out all the time at school, eat lunch together, sit by each other and are always partners. But weren’t not friends.” 🤦🏼‍♀️🤦🏼‍♀️🤦🏼‍♀️

I like the mention of hair ribbons for the rich girl. This is just the fic writer in me seeping into my reading.

Gale and Madge’s little dispute ...

I see why they get shipped together 😅. They’re both just taking swipes at each other here.

Awww, Katniss sticking up for Madge, even though Madge is the privileged one 😭. Katniss has such a pure heart.

The entire point of the Madge/Gale interaction though was just to set up the class divide explanation in Katniss’ head to the reader.

But my Peeta centric heart also picks up on the comments in Katniss’ head of how unlikely it is to be chosen at the reaping when you’re a town kid.

In other words, Peeta had a slim to none chance of being chosen and still was.

Now I think of it, so was Prim...

That was just an unlucky reaping for the kids without tesserae 🙃

Also it reminds me of every fic I ever read that mentioned a conspiracy in the reapings and how the kids aren’t actually chosen at random but anyways I digress

I feel Gale though, with the whole idea of knowing something isn’t this person’s fault and there’s nothing they could do but still being so angry at them because it isn’t fair that you have to suffer and they don’t.

My anger issues are really showing 😅😅😅.

Honestly though, if Katniss is saying Gale on a normal day is rational about the class divide not being merchants faults, then clearly his issues with Peeta later on really were just of jealousy and not because he was a merchant vs Seam.

I just feel like I’ve seen that around and I’m not really convinced

In my interpretation of the character, Katniss’ reasons for not sharing in Gale’s rage comes from exhaustion after a lifetime of powerlessness. Some people (re: females more often) just get worn out about the things they cannot change and can’t even let it get inside their brain because there’s nothing they could do about it.

I mean, she is a more understanding person than Gale but I feel like so much of her character is already so tired right from chapter one.

Okay, just a pointless rambling thought

“Where something pretty” these children are so shady 🤣🤣🤣 that’s a line I would say though

The fact that her like 42 year old mother still fits in a dress she wore at like 20 is really a testament to how hungry they are 🤧🤧🤧

Okay but I’m not trying to pick on her mother, but when they were starving, why did either she or Katniss sell the fancy clothes from her apothecary days? I’m nitpicking I know. I’m a nitpicker.

Also good for Katniss trying to forgive her mother.

God knows how hard it is for me to try and forgive people.

Literally, God knows.

I like that Katniss didn’t disagree with Prim saying she’s beautiful, just that she doesn’t usually look this way 😂😂😂.

I just know my sister wouldn’t let me not take tesserae if this was us. She’d be like “you’ll be fine, four entries? Please. We can have more food for an entire year, don’t be selfish.” 😅😅😅

I feel like noting that Katniss and Prim’s age gap isn’t that significant? Four years? That’s not that large. Not even at 12 and 16.

They herd these children off like they’re .... pigs going to a slaughter... 🤭🤭🤭

Katniss casually stating “I could be shot on a daily basis” 😐😐😐

Katniss and Gale agreeing they’d rather be shot than starve is honestly so sad but lowkey sounds like something two teenagers would say. They should have put dialogue like this in the movies.

I didn’t even remember District 12 has 8,000 people.... why’d I think they only had 3,000????

I need to update some of my fics with this information

Katniss just said “televised by the state”. I’ve never heard her call any region a state before?

I like that Katniss calls Effie’s grin scary and white, because tons of people (i.e me) whiten our teeth in today’s society. And to Katniss and probably all of Twelve that’s creepy. I think it’s weird to Europeans too but l digress.

Also do the people in this district brush and floss, they never seem to mention it in the books, ya know?

Honestly the idea of the hunger games sounded cooler without Songbirds and Snakes telling us it was just some dumb guy’s idea that no one ever thought would come true.

Aww, sugar is a delicacy 🤧🤧🤧

I knew already that but lemme fully feel that sentiment for a moment okey

Umm I’m sorry, did Mayor Undersee just casually state Lucy Gray Baird’s name every year and we never knew it? Did Snow just allow this? Seems suspish

Also the idea of Katniss being her distant relative and hearing the name and not knowing the connection... and yeah, anyways. I got wayyyy ahead of myself and off track sorry

Why would Haymitch hug Effie? I’m sorry, but Hayffie having a secret affair at some point in all the years they worked together seems more likely than I thought.

I mean, Katniss never mentions Haymitch hugging anyone besides her and Peeta when they just almost died, are about to die or that one time Katniss was sobbing because she thought Peeta was gonna die.

You know what though? I like that at this moment, when the name is about to be announced, Katniss worried about herself. She spends so much time worrying for her sister, babying her sister, mothering her sister, she deserves ten seconds of worrying for her own safety.

Of course, said sister is the one chosen. Ironic considering the whole encounter with Madge.

Okay, I think that concludes my thoughts for chapter one of The Hunger Games!

[seasonsofeverlark]

Amazing and Corny

Author: @hutchhitched​

Prompt: Corn Maze [submitted by @sunsetsrmydreams​]

Rating: T

Summary: Stressed over classes, Katniss gives in when her friend Gale insists she join their group of friends at a corn maze. Somehow, she finds herself lost with Peeta, the golden boy she’s admired from afar since their freshman year of college. As a thunderstorm rumbles overhead, they find their way out of the maze and discover each other, too.

Author’s Note: Thanks to @mandelion82​ for the extra set of eyes.

____________

Katniss Everdeen looked around her, wondering how in the hell she’d been dragged along on what her best friend Gale Hawthorne insisted was an adventure. As far as she was concerned, this qualified as a misadventure more than anything else. She didn’t have time for this, anyway. Only six weeks left in the semester, and she was at a damn corn maze an hour from the middle of nowhere.

“I don’t know how I let you talk me into something so stupid,” she grumbled, but Gale just knocked his shoulder against hers and laughed.

“Oh, come on, Catnip,” he chided. “It’ll be fun. Besides, I hear a certain someone might make an appearance, and I know how tantalizing that can be for the young co-eds such as yourself.”

“Shut up,” she snapped and immediately blushed the same shade as the sugar maple across the road. Ducking her head to hide the distinctly scarlet hue her cheeks had flamed, she crossed her arms over her chest and shrunk in on herself. Besides, who talked like that? Apparently Gale when he was messing with her.

Peeta Mellark. That’s who Gale meant, and her stomach fluttered at the possibility he might attend the evening’s event. Peeta was friends with Delly Cartwright who knew Annie Cresta who dated Finnick Odair who was friends with Johanna Mason who her traitorous best friend happened to be dating. It was not her favorite relationship of his.

“Relax. He might not come. Anyway, it’s not like you’d talk to him if he was here. You haven’t managed to yet the entire time we’ve been on campus together.”

Katniss hung her head because Gale was right. Peeta seemed to be friends with everyone at Panem State, the mid-level public university in the Midwest she and her friends attended. Everyone, that was, but her. It wasn’t that he hadn’t tried. She’d run into him multiple times over the past two and a half years, but every time she clammed up, unable to speak and overwhelmed by his warmth. As far as she was concerned, Peeta Mellark was amazing. She adored his affable nature and the corny jokes he told. Her family always called them groaners, but he’d often joked he was practicing for when he became a dad. Peeta shone like the sun, and she paled in comparison.

And that made her feel even worse. Peeta had dad jokes, and Katniss quaked at the thought of future children. She wasn’t even 21 yet, and she didn’t understand the tendency of those around her who had baby fever. At least that was one thing Gale’s girlfriend had going for her. Johanna Mason didn’t seem to have a maternal bone in her body.

“But what if he does?” she mumbled and scuffed the toe of her shoe in the dust.

“Peeta?” At her nod, he sighed. “If he shows up, you might want to actually speak to him. At this point, it’s obvious you’re uncomfortable around him. He’s even asked the group if he did something to offend you.”

“He is offensive,” Katniss groused. “He’s too bright and shiny. Too nice. Too charming. I mean, give the rest of us a break. We can’t live up to his golden boy perfection.”

Gale rolled his eyes and looked over her shoulder. “Hey, Jo,” he called. “Delly, Peeta, Finn, Annie. Good to see you.”

Katniss’ stomach dropped to her feet. There was no way he hadn’t heard her. No possibility that Peeta Mellark hadn’t witnessed her confession that she thought his perfection was rivaled by none. How in the world could she play this off? She needed a place to hide. She was just about to bolt when Gale grabbed her forearm and tugged her against his side.

“Stay put,” he growled under his breath. “You avoiding him is ridiculous.”

Katniss elbowed him in the ribs, but he only acknowledged it with a barely audible grunt. Instead, he turned to his girlfriend and kissed her, which devolved into a filthy, open-mouthed, possibly pornographic grope fest that only ended because Finnick wolf whistled.

“Get a room! We’re here for the corn maze, not a tryst with a corn cob.”

“I don’t know. I think the corn might be jealous of Hawthorne’s cob,” Johanna retorted and turned her lascivious grin on Gale. “Later, lover,” she promised.

“Gross,” Katniss mumbled, and Peeta snorted. He hid his mouth and covered the chuckle with a cough, but his eyes sparkled mischievously when he glanced her way.

“Let’s go,” Finnick said, enthusiasm practically vibrating out of him as he led the way to the corn maze entrance. He purchased tickets for their group of seven and then tugged Annie into the maze. Katniss trudged along at the back of the group.

It didn’t take long for them to spread out, the couples drifting away from Katniss, Delly, and Peeta as the duos held hands and snuggled together. Delly and Peeta chatted companionably, while Katniss glowered and tried not to feel like a third wheel. Peeta attempted to engage her a few times, but she brushed off his efforts and stopped paying attention until they were fairly deep into the maze.

“Uh, Delly, do you have any idea where we are?” Peeta asked, shocking Katniss out of her stupor.

The night had cooled, humidity and the threat of rain making the air seem colder than it should. Katniss glanced upward and blanched at roiling clouds and lazy lightning sparking in the atmosphere. She shivered involuntarily and shifted closer to the other two.

“Not a clue,” Delly answered cheerfully. “Let’s try this way.” With that, she was off, leaving Peeta and Katniss in her wake. They stood together in semi-stunned silence before Peeta turned to her with a sheepish expression.

“Well, alone at last,” he said in an attempted joke that fell flat.

“We need better friends,” Katniss sighed. “The whole lot of them are terrible people.”

Amused, Peeta returned, “I feel like that says something about us, that we’d both choose crappy friends and allow them to, first, talk us into a corn maze on the night of a predicted thunderstorm during a really busy time in the semester and, second, abandon us like this. It feels like a plot to a bad horror film or something.”

“Horror or Hallmark?”

Peeta ran a hand down the back of his neck nervously and cocked his head. “What do you mean by Hallmark?”

“Oh, you know. Those corny movies where a woman goes back to her hometown and reconnects with some hot guy who convinces her the country is more wholesome than the city and she forgets all about her job and friends and the life she’s built for herself,” Katniss explained. “They always make me so mad. Like the female lead isn’t smart enough to have made decisions for herself, and she has to be saved by the noble, hot stranger who’s got it all figured out. It’s mansplaining at its finest.”

“What if the guy’s right?”

“Why? Because he’s hot and feels an inordinate desire to protect a woman who doesn’t need his help? If anyone ever tried that with me…” Katniss trailed into silence, unsure what the rest of her threat actually was. It wasn’t like she didn’t appreciate help; she just wanted help from someone who understood she could do it by herself, even if that wasn’t necessary.

Peeta studied her carefully, his expression unreadable, and she wondered if she’d offended him, somehow. He licked his lips and tugged the collar of his jacket up under his ears before speaking.

“Well, that explains some things.”

She bristled immediately. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean,” he sighed, clearly dejected, “it makes more sense why you haven’t given me the time of day the past two years.”

Katniss gaped at him, completely taken aback at this statement. It took her a second to form a coherent thought, but she finally managed to stammer, “Wh-what?”

Peeta’s mouth twisted into an expression of misery. “You seem to hate me, and I have no idea why.”

Flustered, she blurted, “How does that have anything to do with hot guys from small towns? I— You’re— Yeah, hot. You really are, but… I’m so lost.”

Peeta flushed, his cheeks flaming red, and he stubbed his toe into the ground and refused to look at her. “It doesn’t matter,” he mumbled. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“Brought—?” Katniss stopped herself and held up her hands in surrender. Gently, she prodded, “Peeta? What are you saying?”

He shook his head and hunched his shoulders, shielding against the chilly weather and his disappointment. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to be that guy,” he whispered.

“What guy?” she asked, using every ounce of her strength to quell her frustration.

He lifted tortured eyes and answered softly, “The guy that seems to think he’s entitled to a girl’s attention. The one that mansplains. The one who takes over the room when he walks in. I’ve never intended to do that, but you’ve always shied away from the popular crowd. You have every right to ignore me if you want. I didn’t mean to imply that you owe anything to me.”

“Oh,” she breathed. “Oh, that makes way more sense than… Well, than anything I was thinking.”

Curious, he asked tentatively, “What were you thinking?”

“I was trying to figure out how you were the hot, small-town guy luring me away from the city,” she laughed, and he grinned a little.

“Well, you did say I was hot.”

“You are hot,” she sputtered. Peeta coughed to cover a pleased smirk. His response was so soft, she almost missed it.

“Thank you.”

“I wouldn’t ever try to insinuate you weren’t smart enough to make your own decisions.”

The tips of his ears burned red, which she thought was about the cutest thing she’d ever seen. She opened her mouth to speak when her phone interrupted them. Grimacing, she tugged it from her pocket and glanced at the screen.

“Oh, hell,” she muttered.

“What?”

“Gale,” she offered in explanation. “He wants to know where we are.”

“We’re in the corn maze. Where else would we be? Is everybody else done or something?”

She nodded to affirm. “They’re all waiting at the picnic tables. Even Delly’s there. They have cider.”

They glanced around them and realized they still had no idea where they were. Katniss hadn’t been paying attention as they wound into the maze, and Peeta had clearly followed Delly’s direction. In short, they were lost. Katniss glanced upward, as a few fat drops of rain spattered around them.

“Would it be corny to say I’d rather be lost in here with you than anyone else?” Peeta asked, his lips quirked into a crooked grin.

“Oh, I don’t know. There’s a crop of freshmen on campus. Wouldn’t you rather be with one of them?”

Peeta’s eyes twinkled. “Punny.”

“Same to you.”

“You’re amazing,” he laughed, and they grinned at each other, content to joke about their predicament. Seconds later, the sky opened, lightning flashed, and they both jumped. “We need to get out of here.”

Katniss extended her hand to him. “Together?”

“Together,” he agreed as he took her hand.

They walked quickly then, alternating right turns with lefts until they began to see a pattern. Corn stalks guided their way as they wound through the maze, hopeful they were on the right track, as rain poured from the heavens. Soaking wet, they clung to each other, a lifeline in their confusion. They hadn’t seen anyone else for several minutes, and Katniss started to shake—from cold, anxiety, and frustration.

“It’s going to be okay,” Peeta assured her. Letting go of her hand, he shrugged off his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders. When she protested, he insisted. “I’m all right.”

“I thought you trusted me to make my own decisions,” she retorted, but her clacking teeth and shivers undermined her argument.

He wrapped his arm around her and guided them down another corridor. “I do. I promise, but your sense of direction is as terrible as mine. Let’s get out of here, and then you can go back to resisting my advances.”

“Have you been making advances?” she asked, curious.

“Since the moment I saw you across the room. You have no idea the effect you have on me.”

She’d have to ponder that once they’d escape the maze. She was too cold, too disoriented, and too woozy from the heat of his jacket and arm curled around her. The stress of the semester had been weighing on her more than she’d thought, and there was something really compelling about allowing someone else to take charge.

“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you,” Peeta sputtered as they rounded another corner and spied the flags marking the maze exits. His curls were plastered to his head in dark blonde waves, and he looked absolutely miserable in his soaking wet navy blue Henley and dark washed jeans.

“Wait,” she pleaded. “Wait.”

Peeta stopped immediately and turned questioning eyes to meet hers. His willingness to take her seriously without question made her smile. “What’s up?” he asked, rubbing her arms to warm her.

Katniss reached for him, grabbing his sopping shirt and tugging him to her. Their lips met as thunder rumbled above them, and she leaned into his heat. He wrapped his arms around her, cradling her to him and increasing the pressure of his mouth on hers. They stood there, tangled together, until an echoing boom of thunder shook them apart.

“Electrifying,” he murmured as lightning flashed.

Katniss giggled and burrowed into his chest. “Such a dad joke.”

“They’re coming out my ears.”

“No. Stop. That was terrible.”

“I can’t help it. They just pop up when I least expect them.”

“So corny,” she grinned.

“So amazing,” he corrected and grabbed her hand. “Let’s get out of her, ditch our friends, and get to know each other.”

Katniss nodded. At the moment, there was nothing she wanted more.

[bethpeaches123]

Everlark #46

Okay, this took much longer than I’d hoped, but that’s because every time I thought I was finished, something new popped into my head and I had to include it, so it’s also much longer than I’d anticipated. But, here it is, @mandelion82! I hope you enjoy! I’m thinking of continuing it too, so stay tuned! Also going to post it on AO3. :)

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Everlark 46: nanny/single parent au

The Nanny/Babysitter/Minder

When Katniss Everdeen placed an ad looking for a nanny to care for her five-year-old daughter Cassie, the gorgeous blond, blue-eyed specimen of a man standing on her front porch was not exactly what she had in mind.

“Can I…help you? Sir?” she asked, trying to wipe the puzzled expression off her face when she opened the door.

He smiled, his hands shoved in the front pockets of his dark wash jeans, looking slightly puzzled himself. “I’m Peeta. Peeta Mellark? I emailed you about the nanny position for your daughter? We agreed I’d come over to meet her at one o’clock today?” he replied. His eyes flickered to the side at the sound of a car horn behind him on the busy street, then flicked back to Katniss while he waited for her response.

Flustered that Peeta was apparently a man’s name and not an old woman’s like she’d assumed, (Why had she assumed that? What could have it been short for? Petunia? Come on, Katniss) she hesitated and then said, “oh, yes, of course. Um, please, come in,” stepping aside to let the subtly muscular man walk past her and into the hallway.

Hesitating again, she decided to throw caution to the wind and continue with the appointment with this man, Peeta. She hadn’t received any other responses to the ad she’d placed two weeks prior, and she was getting desperate. Her surgery schedule had changed at the hospital, thanks to crotchety Chief Abernathy who didn’t care about her childcare woes, and she needed to find someone to pick Cassie up from school until her current shift rotation changed again in a few months’ time. If it changed. Knowing Abernathy, he’d keep her on this schedule indefinitely.

“Cassie? Can you come out please sweetheart, there’s someone I’d like you to meet,” she called down the hall.

She motioned for Peeta to proceed into the living room as a tiny pixie of a girl came bounding down the hall and into the room, her dark brown hair in two messy braids down her back. “Mama, I was playing,” she whined, but stopped and stared, wide-eyed at the blond man standing in front of her. “Who are you?” she asked, curiously.

“Cassie honey, I told you we’d be meeting your new nann-err…your….baby-um…your…minder…today. Remember?” hastily fumbling over what to call Peeta. “This is Mr. Mel-um, Peeta.”

“Hi Mr. Peeta,” Cassie whispered, peering up at him shyly as her little mouth curling into a smile.

Peeta knelt down in front of Cassie and held out his hand. “Hello Miss Cassie, it’s very nice to meet you. You can call me just Peeta, though, if you’d like,” he replied, gently smiling at the girl. “I’m looking forward to getting to know you better, I hope.”

“Cassie, why don’t you tell Peeta about school? Cassie just started grade one. Peeta, can I get you something to drink?” asked Katniss, starting towards the kitchen. She needed to put some distance between herself and this gorgeous man. Needed to catch her breath and steady herself – it had been a while since she’d been around anyone who made her feel so flustered. She was usually so calm and cool-headed; she needed to be, being an orthopedic surgeon and all. When Peeta didn’t reply right away, she turned to face him and found him staring straight at her.

“I’m fine, thank you,” he replied, his eyes warm as he looked at her for a beat longer than normal, before turning his focus back to her mini-me sitting before him on the floor. She could feel the heat from his brief gaze go straight to her core. She shivered and spun on her heel, swiftly walking to the kitchen. What was that? As she poured herself a glass of water, she gave herself a mental shake before gulping it down and returning to the living room to sit and observe.

As Katniss watched the two interact on the floor, her initial hesitations began to melt away. Peeta was patient, attentive and gentle with her sweet girl, listening to her talk about her dolls, how much she wanted a cat (Katniss refused - she and felines did not get along) and how nice her kindergarten teacher Mr. Cinna was. Peeta asked her questions about her favourite colour (purple, but also green, like Mama) what she wanted to be when she grew up (a veterinarian) and her favourite flavour ice cream (Rocky Road).

After 45 minutes had passed and the two seemed thick as thieves, Katniss’s worries were gone. Her desperation to find someone to look after Cassie while she was at work had melted away as she watched Cassie, normally a shy, reserved little girl, open up and giggle at the gentle man who made silly faces and showed her pictures of his cat, Cupcake (she could’ve scolded him for that - she didn’t need Cassie getting any more ideas about wanting a cat.) Occasionally, she’d laugh softly at something one of them would say, and she’d catch Peeta’s eye when he’d glance at her and smile warmly, his dimples dusting his cheeks.

With her ex Gale no longer in the picture, and her mother and sister living two states away, she didn’t have any family support. Peeta seemed to be the answer to her prayers, judging from how quickly he and her daughter got along. Plus…he wasn’t hard on the eyes. Stop lusting after the hired help, Katniss. Get it together.

After some more time had passed, Katniss looked at her watch and said, “Well, I think we’ve taken up enough of Peeta’s time, Cassie, and you have to get ready to head out to your singing lesson too,” said Katniss, standing up and motioning to her daughter to go to her room and get ready. “Why don’t you brush your teeth, use the bathroom and get your sheet music from your bedroom while I talk to Peeta?”

“But I don’t haveta use the bathroom, Mama,” Cassie grumbled. She didn’t make any moves to get up from her spot on the floor next to Peeta, who smartly stayed silent as he watched the mother and daughter talk.

“You will as soon as we get in the car and by then it’ll be too late. Go, please, missy,” replied her mother, sternly.

Peeta stood up from where he’d been sitting crossed legged on the floor with Cassie and dipping into a deep bow, offered her his hand to pull her up. “May I be of service to the young lady and help her up?” His eyes twinkled as she giggled again and placed her little hand in his, letting him easily pull her to her feet. “Will I see you again, Mr. Peeta?” she asked shyly, glancing at her mother before turning back to him.

“I would like that, Miss Cassie. How about I chat with your mama while you get ready? It’s a good idea to listen to her - she knows best,” he replied gently.

Cassie huffed, but turned and bounded out of the room, the chorus of “Let It Go” echoing down the hall as she went.

Peeta chuckled and shook his head amusedly, shoving his hands in his front pockets, adopting his stance from earlier. He turned his gaze to Katniss once again, his piercing blue eyes warm and kind. Before she could speak, Peeta beat her to it.

“She seems like a wonderful little girl, Mrs. Everdeen. I’d be happy to look after her for you when needed,” he said. “I can provide a list of references and my child CPR certification if you’d like. I mean, if you’d like me to...if you’d like t-to hire me?” He stuttered, watching her face spread into a wide, amused smile.

“It’s Dr. Everdeen, actually. Ms. Dr. Everdeen, really. I’m not married. Ever. Haven’t ever been married. I mean, not that that matters, I’m jus-I mean Cassie’s father and I weren’t married, we were just together, but he’s not around anymore, he-” what was wrong with her? She was a top-notch surgeon; a strong, independent woman, raising a child on her own. Why was she so tongue-tied around this man? She took a deep breath and said, “Katniss is fine. And your references and other files would be great. Could you email them to me please?”

Amused by her stuttered response that mirrored his own, Peeta replied, “Okay. Katniss it is, and yes, I’ll send them over today.” He seemed relieved that she was as nervous as he was.

After they discussed hours and rate of pay, the one questions that had been nagging in the back of her mind finally couldn’t be left unasked. “Why do you want this job?” She blurted.

Mortified, she continued before he could even open his mouth. “Sorry, it’s just...when I placed the ad, I expected to find an old, grandmother-type woman. Not a young, handsome guy. I mean-I just...I haven’t come across a lot of male...nannies,” she trailed off, embarrassed by her word choice. Did I just call him handsome? To his face? Oh god, I wish I could bury MY face in my hands right about now.

Peeta shifted somewhat uncomfortably from one foot to the other before replying. “That’s a fair question, I guess. I work in my family’s bakery in the mornings, but my day is finished by noon. I wanted something to fill the rest of my days and I love kids – I have a niece and nephew who are just the greatest, I love spending time with little people that age, they’re so inquisitive and honest. I’ve actually thought about going back to school to become a teacher – I mean, I haven’t ruled it out yet, I’m only twenty-six, that’s not too old. Plus, I thought about how much of a struggle it must be sometimes to be a single parent and if I have the ability and capacity to help someone out, well, then I want to do that.” He realized he was rambling a bit and flushed with embarrassment. “Is that weird? I just thought I’d combine helping people and kids and...well, here I am. Here we are.”

“Here we are indeed,” mused Katniss, staring at him wonderingly. “That seems like as good a reason as any, I suppose.” She started to turn away but stopped and looked at him once again. “And I do appreciate the help, by the way…can you start Monday?” Her lips curved into a small smile, Peeta beamed back at her, this time his dimples on full display.

“Great! Yes, Monday’s great. Okay. Good. I think this will be...great. I’ve said great a lot. I’ll stop,” said Peeta sheepishly, running his hand through his messy blond curls. His face flushed bright red again, a shade Katniss found endearing.

Before she could respond again, Cassie came bounding down the hallway, her teeth clean and music bag in tow. “I’m ready, Mama! Mr. Peeta, so will I see you again?” She asked hopefully, peering up at her new friend once again.

Peeta glanced at Katniss, who smiled and nodded, before replying to Cassie. “You will! I’ll be there to pick you up from school on Monday. I have a very serious question for you though, Miss Cassie. Are you ready to hear it?” Her brow furrowed as she nodded slowly. “Do you like to have fun?” She little face broke out into a grin as she nodded again, more enthusiastically this time. “Well good,” he continued. “Because we’re going to have lots of it.”

Hearing her child break out into giggles again melted her heart and stirred something inside her. Looking at Peeta, she met his intense gaze with one of her own, grateful for this kind man to care for the more important person in her life.

“Well, it’s time to go, sweetheart. Peeta, thank you so much again. We’ll be chatting before Monday to go over the rest of the particulars,” said Katniss, ushering Cassie out the front door and turning to Peeta once again. As he moved past her to go through the front door, his hand lightly pressed against the small of her back to step around her, and Katniss felt the heat of his touch through her coat. It spread from her back throughout her body, right down to her toes. She froze as he passed through the door and hopped down the steps, turning back to look at her and flashed his dimples once again. Oh my. This is going to be interesting…

“I’ll speak to you very soon, Katniss. Cassie, I’ll see you Monday afternoon!” he called, cheerfully as he waved and headed to his car.

“I like Mr. Peeta, Mama. He’s nice. And he has a cat!! Do you think he can bring Cupcake over to play with me sometime?” Cassie babbled as Katniss strapped her into her seat, her mind replaying the memory of Peeta’s touch on her back over and over. She flushed again, thinking of how close his muscular body had to hers been when he walked by, how his blue eyes sparkled when he stared at her, how his dimples seemed to make an appearance when he beamed at her….how his ass looked when he bent over to help Cassie up...

Oh no. She was in trouble.

A young, hot, (she has to admit he was hot, there was no denying it) kind, patient man was going to be looking after her child and thus very, very involved in her life for the unforeseeable future. This would be interesting indeed…

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

[timeforelfnonsense]

Looking to Make Friends

Dafni x Astarion || T ||  Ao3 ||  Sunshine & Starlight: My on going bg3 series 

Some pre relationship fun before any feelings were caught.  Astarion has a pretty good WIS score and with his background, I think he'd be quite good at reading other people. It's interesting to contrast that with Dafni, who is also very perspective but in a very different way. (and they were narrative foils)

Astarion padded along softly behind Dafni, bow drawn and at the ready. He’d offered to help her catch dinner for the party. To be perfectly honest he wasn’t much for hunting. Not with a bow anyway. In truth, he’d followed her out here to pick her brain. He wanted to get the measure of each of his newfound associates and the peculiar cleric seemed the best place to start. She was far and away the most open of the bunch. The rest of their number all carried an air of privacy about them. Dafni, in contrast, was completely transparent or at least presented herself to be. She could also serve as a bridge to gaining the trust of the more discerning among them. She’d already created a respectable rapport with Gale and the pair they’d picked up in the grove, Wyll, and Criella. She’d gone out of her way to offer hospitality and kindness to each person in the party, even those who seemed less than interested in playing nice. 

You do seem the type. Inquisitive. Looking for connection… It’s every man for himself and you are looking to make friends.

The corner his Astarion’s lip turned up. Shadowheart was canny. That much was clear. She was, however, too short-sided to see the benefits of having someone of that sort on her side. Dafni wanted friends and he needed to secure an ally- It was an ideal fit. He’d noticed the way she blushed at his teasing. How eager she was to keep his company. She almost certainly found him attractive. That made things a bit easier at least. 

“Can I confess something to you?” He inquired, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her pointed ear, “I asked to tag along because I wanted to spend time with you.” Dafni’s cheeks turned cherry red as he traced the blade of her ear. A coy smile forming across his lips. “Aw, I hope I haven’t embarrassed you. I couldn’t help but overhear the way Shadowheart rebuffed you this afternoon. It’s her loss really if she can’t see what an intriguing woman you are.” 

“I-Thank you, Astarion.” She stammered, tracing a small circle in the dirt with the toe of her boot, “What did you want to know?” 

“Tell me about your life before all of this?” He asked, gesturing to his temple. 

“In the city or before that?” She asked, tilting her head thoughtfully, “I can think of several ways to answer that question.” 

Astarion mulled his response over for a moment. He was curious about her life in the city. Dafni was a creature of the wild through and through. She seemed very much at home among the plants and creatures of the forest. It was hard to picture her strolling about the lower city. But, he’d observed her to be the sentimental sort. An inquiry into her more distant past would yield far more. 

“Tell me about where you grew up?”

He heard her heart give a worrying lurch. Her honey-brown eyes falling to the faded leather of her shoes as the flush that covered her cheeks grew even deeper. That was not the reaction he had been expecting from her. Was she embarrassed? No. Nervous. Her arms crossed over her chest as she let out a rush of air from barely parted lips. 

“Umm- Well, as you might have overheard Criella saying, I’m from the Feywilds originally. I should have told you the truth when you asked about my being from the city. I don’t like lying! Even by omission! I just wanted you to trust me...”

Astarion knew a thing or two about conceding one’s nature. He had to stifle the chuckle building in his chest. It would seem he and lovely little Daffodil had something in common. 

Her reaction had been rather dear. But, the logic did follow. The creatures of Faerie had a certain...Reputation. View by the common folk as at best, fickle, whimsical beings, ruled by emotion and a strange sense of decorum. And at worst as wicked, Unseelie tricksters or hags looking to strike duplicitous bargains. 

She wants to be liked, He thought,  Her reputation is important to her. 

“Think nothing of it!” He soothed with a wave of his hand, “We are all entitled to our little secrets. I’d still like to hear more if you’d be kind enough to indulge me?” 

“Of course!” The tension in her shoulders loosened and she continued, “I’m actually quite proud of my heritage, despite my omission. Of all of the Protectors' children, the eladrin of the Faerie are the most like the first elves that sprung from his blood. The plane of Faerie is magnificent. As close a place to Arvandor, there is. It teems with the most beautiful plants and colorful creatures in all of creation. It is a place of enchantment and wonder, both deadly and delightful. Many creatures who stumble into a crossing by mistake lose their wits to its irresistible splendor but my people, we prosper where others wither.” 

He took note of the way her back straightened when she spoke. Her posture took on an elegance he hadn’t seen in her before. He couldn’t help the smile that touched his lips. For all her charity and warmth she still held a small taste of that classic elven haughtiness. Interesting indeed. 

Even more interesting still was the specific pride she took in her ability to survive what overs could not. He was not easily impressed but spirited Dafni had made quite the impression on him. She was tenacious and spirited. She would not surrender herself to their grim fate.

Another similarity. 

 He thought back to their first night in camp, to her girlish snickering at his unease about sleeping outdoors. She had called ‘N'Tel'Que'Tethira’, a city elf. 

But, no sooner than the words left her did a modified expression fall across her pretty round face. Her next sentence had been a string of apologies and assurance she felt no superiority to her city-dwelling cousins. 

Astarion had gathered the fondness she felt for the elves was not limited to her own people but rather all varieties of elves. He’d overhead her with Gale, insisting she was no scholar yet there seemed to be no question of elven lore or history she could not summon at the drop of a pin. He’d not given much thought to his own elveness in quite some time. On the list of things, Astarion was, elf did not fall very high on the ranking of importance. Yet Dafni, from the moment she set eyes on him, saw kin and ally. He’d even seen her extend this esteem to Shadowheart. 

Pride in her culture and people. He’d found another piece of her puzzle. A bit obvious but important nonetheless.

“I was born in the Faerie reflection of the Moonshaes, on the Isle of Gwynneth.” Dafni continued, “In a village called PeleiraI. It was an oasis created by the primal elves who first came to the feywilds after being cast out by Corellon.”

Astarion nodded along as she spoke. He recalled the images that had flashed through his mind upon their first meeting. Tucked away in a forest of mythical beauty, her ‘village’ had been a far cry from the thatched huts and dirt floors the word brought to mind. He’d seen spires and structures of flawless marble reflecting a breathtaking, sunset of burnt orange and vivid violet. The ethereal structures scattered among the woodland didn’t detract from the wild nature of the glen but enhanced it. Appearing as if they had been grown from the earth just the same as the imposing trees that sheltered them. 

“I saw the fleeting image of a settlement when our minds touched. It looked like something out of a fairytale. I’ve never seen anything like it.” He affected his voice, coloring it with wistfulness and awe, “I can only imagine the adventures you got up to there.”

“I did a lot of nothing most days.” She snorted, “Read. Practice medicine or magic. Explore the forest. Pester my older sisters. Maybe a hunt with visiting Seelie knights if I was lucky. I was never really allowed out without my sisters or some sort of escort.” Dafni scoffed the heel of her boot hitting the tree behind her with a soft, repetitive thump. “My mother, Thesmia is our clan’s leader. She’s a well-respected wizard and historian of a sort. I think she knew I was curious about what was on the other side of the mirror so to speak. Gwyneth is littered with fey crossings and she didn’t want me wandering off to the material all alone.” 

She was the sheltered daughter of a noble (or close to it)? Right within his bailiwick! Her story wasn’t an unfamiliar one. Many of his marks in the city had been young lords and ladies smothered by the expectation and duty. All itching for the taste of freedom they were certain they’d find in Astarion’s honeyed words and dark charms. 

This revelation did not yield new information so much as clarify an impression he already had. He’d seen more than her childhood home that day on the beach. The worried face of an otherworldly elven woman and bone aching wanderlust still burned through him when he played the memories over in his head.

“Is that why you left to live with the wood elves?” He asked, tilting his head to the side, “To see this side of the mirror?”

“You remembered?” The flush returned to her cheeks as she fidgeted with the string of her bow.

Astarion smiled his most beguiling smile, “I told you I thought you were intriguing, did I not?”

 “I suppose you did!” She hummed, “Well to answer your question, yes. In apart anyways-'' She shrugged squeezing her biceps, “I wanted to explore, I was never going to know myself in Thesmia’s shadow. She was very...resistant to the idea. She’d seen how cruel people could be. That was part of why she made a home for us in PeleiraI. If she had it her way I would have spent the rest of my days in tucked away safe in her tower.” Dafni paused for a beat, her hands anxiously toying with the edge of her sleeve, “Please don’t misunderstand me. I love my mother dearly. She can just be a bit…”

“Overbearing?” He suggested.

“Yes.” Dafni giggled, releasing the worried fabric from her fingertips, “I know she wanted what was best for me. We just didn’t agree on what that was. I wanted to live my life and she wanted me to live hers.”

“I can sympathize to an extent.” He said, his mouth turning down into a scowl.

“You had a loving but smothering ancient being as a mother?” She tittered, playfully bumping her shoulder against his.

“No.” His tone came out a bit sharper than he’d intended. He ran his hand through his hair composing himself before he continued, “But, I understand the feeling that your life isn’t really your own.”

It was a risk to offer such information up. One he maybe shouldn’t have taken but, something about her vulnerability made him feel a little less guarded. A skill that could prove dangerous. At least his slip up hadn’t been for not. Her heart had slowed to a steady thrum. The jittery shuffling of her feet had stopped. 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Dafni responded, placing a hesitant hand on his arm. He had expected her to pry. She was painfully curious and astonishingly open with her own feelings. Yet, she seemed to sense pressing the matter would upset him. Instead, she moved on. Her voice coming out small and far away, “I think she wanted me to be more like her. Refined. Intelligent. Graceful.” She sighed pressing her back to the mossy tree trunk, “Sometimes I worry I might have been a bit of a disappointment.”

Ah-

There it was. The piece he’d been hoping to find. She wanted reassurance. Validation. To be valued and appreciated by her own merits.

“I don’t know your mother or her mind but, for what it’s worth, I think you are quite remarkable.” 

“Really?” Her voice quivered as she looked up at him with sparkling doe eyes. 

“If not for the tadpole’s intervention you may well have, how did you put it, cut my smug head right off my shoulders?” He snickered toying absentmindedly with the pommel of his dagger, “Or made a respectable attempt at any rate. I’m not often bested by my quarries.” 

“Well, for what it’s worth, I’m glad I didn’t.” Dafni leaned in close, the sweet scent of her dizzying his senses. Her breath tickling his ear as she whispered, “Your head is far too lovely to be parted from your shoulders.” 

“Why, Daffodil! I’m flattered!” He stated a pleased grin plastered across his face, “Not surprised but, flattered. You did strike me as a woman of taste.”  

“Are you always this cocky?” She chided in a teasing tone.

“Probably.”  

“Hmm. Why am I not surprised” Dafni had tried to sound vexed but the edges of her voice teemed with amusement. Her big, topaz eyes gleaming with joviality, “Fair is fair. Tell me about your life before the tadpoles?”

He felt a slight unease creep into his chest in response to her innocent inquiry. He’d played fast and loose with the truth countless times with his marks but Dafni was different. She was observant, always picking up on the little subtleties of people's deminers. He would do better to stick to omissions rather than out and out mistruths. He brought his hand to the back of his neck giving the tender mussels a gentle rub.

“Oh, what is there to tell.” He put on a dispassionate expression. Careful to sound cool and nonchalant. “I was a magistrate- it’s all rather tedious.”

“Really? I can’t picture you as a bureaucrat.” 

“And why not?” He gasped clutching his hand over his chest.

“Well for starters, you despise rules even more than I do. You like to stir up trouble. And your sense of morality- How do I put this, seems a bit...crooked? No offense.” She explained, indicating her points on the tips of her fingers.

“Oh, none taken!” Astarion gave her a peal of hearty laughter, shaking his head, “Daffodil, I hate to be the one to tell you there is a great deal of dubious morality in government.”

Her expression soured, her lower lip quivering ever so slightly as she stuck it out, “Well, I still can’t picture it. You are far too much fun for such a stuffy job.” 

“People have many sides, dear.” He shrugged glancing over at her with a playful look, “But thank you.”

[efrmellifer]

Abenteuer

Wolmeric Week May 2021, Day Five: Adventure

“Come home and pack a night bag,” Etien instructed, barging into Aymeric’s office.

Before he could stop and formulate a proper response, he had already blurted out a less-than-dignified “What?”

“You said you wanted to come along with me on an adventure. I figure we’re never going to get the time if we don’t take the time. And you could use a vacation. So come home with me and pack a night bag. We’ll have you back here, quill scratching, by tomorrow afternoon.”

Well, it was hard not to trust her, when, to boil it into one sentence, it was Etien. And she was right, he did need a vacation. A change of scenery for a night might do him some good.

He looked her over, taking in the dark blue coat she wore (a gift from Lord Edmont, he thought?) and the soft, unarmored hempen leggings she had on underneath, tucked into boots that were equally stylish and practical.

She couldn’t have extended her hand to him any more obviously without physically doing so. So he laid his hand in hers. Metaphorically.

“Where are we going?”

“You like The Churning Mists, don’t you?”

_

They walked through the Chocobo Forest, packs on their backs and hand in hand.

“And you cleared this with Lucia?”

“Lucia wanted to evict you from your office. I was the one with the kinder idea to order you to come home and pack some things.” Etien stopped walking, looking up at Aymeric as he laughed, a tiny, fond smile on her lips.

“That was kind of you. I don’t know what I would have done for one night.”

Now she rolled her eyes and kept walking. “I know it’s been worse in the field before. But this is supposed to relax you at least a little bit. Thought you might be more comfortable in fresh clothes tomorrow.” She kept walking. “Though I suppose you could have just prayed for rain, and chewed some tree bark for oral hygiene.”

“Does that work?”

She nodded. “At least, it always does for me. Got the smell of wine off my breath once, too.”

“The smell of wine? That’s not like you.”

She grimaced. “It wasn’t indeed.” She squeezed his hand a little tighter, leading the way along the path.

“Remind me what that large structure is again?” he asked.

Studies had been conducted on the architecture that remained in the Dravanian Forelands since the end of the Dragonsong War, in an attempt to understand what about these ruins had helped them to endure for so long. (The help of the dragons, was the conclusion they had come to so far.) But Aymeric hadn’t been involved in much of those investigations, and Etien knew little about architecture. She could identify the rocks used, and she recognized the style as similar to that of Ishgard, but even combining their knowledge, they didn’t know anything much, other than…

“Anyx Trine. A fairly large dragon roost, from what I understand?” she said, squinting into the late afternoon light as she tried to remember. “We’ve been here before.”

“I did think I recognized it.” Recollection washed over him. “You do not plan to take me through Mourn again, do you?”

She shook her head emphatically. “No, no. I just prefer going to Moghome from here. The distance is shorter.”

Aymeric nodded. “Again, your kindness is appreciated.”

Two masses of aether shimmered, and then they were gone.

_

“I don’t want to talk to Chieftain Moglin right away,” Etien groaned when they appeared again at Moghome.

“Etien, did you bring me up here to do chores for the Moogles?”

“No. Well… no. I brought you up here because it’s a pretty place to spend a night. But I knew we were going to be caught wandering around anyway, so I thought we might as well get our obligatory act of service out of the way, kupo.”

Aymeric heaved a heavy sigh. “Fury have mercy. All right. I can do the talking.”

And with that, they were sent wandering all the way to the Landlord Colony, gathering spices and flowers.

“What do they even do with these?”

Etien ran her scythe through the stems of the flowers Aymeric was holding upright for her. “I assume they cook with the spices. The flowers”--she sliced down some more blooms-- “I have no idea.”

“Have you never eaten Moogle food?”

“I doubt they’d feed us. But no. I haven’t. Ysale cooked when we…” A shadow passed over them, and they both looked up. “Were here.”

Then the thud of a dragon landing.

“Friend of Ysale! What bringeth you to the Churning Mists?”

“Vidofnir!” Etien chirped, doing her best to embrace the dragon’s neck. “Ah… visiting. We were hoping to enjoy a night out here. You remember Aymeric, right?”

“Indeed I do. Welcome once more to my father’s home, son of Thordan.”

Etien winced, but relaxed as Aymeric thanked Vidofnir.

“We had best get this plant matter back to the Moogles. I expect they’re waiting, tapping their little paws,” he whispered.

_

Finally, night had come and the Moogles were satisfied with the services rendered.

“I thought they would never let us go,” Etien mumbled, handing over a plate. “Careful, it’s hot.”

Aymeric scoffed. “But they did. And not a moment too soon; if I had had to wait much longer for this, I’d have started eating grass.”

“I’m sorry,” she replied, sitting down, waiting for her food to finish cooking.

“It was through no fault of yours, dearest. In fact, I find myself impressed you managed to get this done so quickly.” He bit into the roast fowl. “And well.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” she chided with a smile.

“Aw, but this is my vacation, surely I can be a little less well-mannered?”

Etien rose from where she’d been sitting, carefully stepping around the fire, and sat down next to him, leaning against him. “I suppose so. For a treat.”

He held out a carrot for her. “Here, have some.”

“Mine is still on the fire. I’ll be okay.”

“Eat, Etien. You do not have to wait.”

“Oh, all right.” She bit into the carrot while he held it still, then took it from him. “I’ll just give you my parsnip when it’s done, then.”

When she’d sat down again, with her food, she jumped, as if she had sat on something.

“A rock?” Aymeric asked.

“No. I just remembered.” She dug in her bag, pulling out a small bottle. “I brought wine for you.” She uncorked it with her teeth, and handed the bottle over. “Hopefully drinking directly from the bottle is one of those less than well-mannered things you feel like doing.”

He snorted, sipping at it. “This is good. Where did it come from?”

“Out in the Sylphlands.” She sat down again, handing over her parsnip as promised and tucking into her food.

Aymeric tipped the bottle toward her before he finished it. “I couldn’t forgive myself if I failed to share.”

Etien reached out, then her hand curled, as if she were rethinking it. Finally, she took the bottle and had a tiny sip. “There. The rest is yours.”

“I appreciate you making an effort,” he murmured, draining the bottle of its remaining contents, and rolling it toward her bag again.

She leaned against him again, purring. “For you? Always.”

_

Unfortunately, Etien had forgotten that dragons weren’t the only danger of the Churning Mists, and that the others hadn’t gone away when the chorus of the dragons was a peaceful chorale.

So she was taken utterly by surprise when she saw a Melia stalking Aymeric back toward their little campsite from the Moogle residence a short distance away that he’d wandered off to.

She called to him, already nocking an arrow (of course she’d brought her bow), and telling him, “move toward its back quickly, but do not get its attention.”

He did as she said, and watched as an arrow lodged itself in the bark of the creature, then another, this one with a sickly scent to it. He backed away from the Melia and the dangerous arrows, one whizzing by his ear with the force of a gale.

“I didn’t know you were moving, sorry!” she called.

But the creature collapsed, withering as it did so, and Aymeric trotted back to Etien’s side.

“Well. That was an adventure.”

“I always deliver on my promises,” she replied, putting away her bow. “Are you tired? I’m tired.”

“I am,” Aymeric answered, rolling out their bedding for the night. “We don’t expect rain, correct?”

“Aye, should be clear skies all day.”

“Wonderful.” When the bedrolls were ready, she lay down, staring up at the sky. Aymeric joined her, and before he could reach out to pull her to him, she was already scooting closer.

They both looked up at the sky.

“So… all those years ago, when you had me go to Silvertear, and Midgardsormr dulled Hydaelyn’s blessing,” Etien began.

Aymeric hummed, not quite inquisitively, but to indicate that he followed where she was leading, and he was listening.

She continued. “Had you actually seen the Dragon Star get brighter?”

“I have to believe that the astrologians did, for the sake of my own understanding of everything that came after. Why?”

“I just wondered if you had said that so you could take a measure of the Scions. Of me specifically.”

“No, I always thought that what was said about you was true. What Haurchefant had to say most of all. The first time I actually doubted stories about you was—I was going to say it was when they claimed you poisoned the Sultana. But it was actually when people whispered that you were… how did they say it? Sweet on me?”

Etien snorted and giggled. “Shame. Imagine how much faster things might have gone if you’d trusted that rumor above any other.”

“Aye, but it does no good to dwell on the past and what could have been,” Aymeric conceded with a sigh, pulling her closer still to kiss her forehead. “And now, even though I would think the Dragon Star hasgotten brighter, seeing as Midgardsormr is among us again, I cannot tell.”

She tipped her head, struggling to look at him. “Why’s that?”

“Because having you with me, every star burns more brightly.”

[emmy-dekarios-bg3]

Heart of the Weave - A Baldurs Gate Fanfiction - Part 2

CHAPTER 2

Gale walks into the bathroom, standing behind me with Jenevelle in his arms, and observing me for a moment with a puzzled expression on his face. What has him concerned? I confidently stare at myself in the mirror, worries erased from my mind and feeling more than content all around. I pull my thick, curly brown hair down from a messy bun and let it bounce freely just above my shoulders.

“Is everything alright, my beautiful wife?” he questions, then kisses the top of my head, under the impression that something could be bothering me. I smile wholeheartedly and turn to face him, wrapping my arms around his torso as I lean my head on his chest.

“I’ve never been better.” He brushes my messy bangs out of my face with his free hand, staring into my eyes. It was then he realized I meant every word, and he proceeded to smile back at me. What story do my eyes tell, I wonder?

“Good. I have a ‘turn up for the books’ for you, once you’re finished giving Shadowheart her gift basket. Once you get home, get ready for a spectacular surprise ahead this evening.” Oh goodness, what could be in store for us tonight? Gale is very spontaneous, and I wish I could be more like that. I keep telling myself I will.

“A surprise? What for?” I ask, pretending to be shocked as if my birthday isn’t next week. He rolls his eyes playfully and shakes his head.

“Well, if I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise now would it?” I shrug and playfully pout, though he knows I hate surprises so he probably believes I’m serious. “How about we all go visit Shadowheart and Astarion together? I’m sure she’d love to see Jenevelle.” My face lights up, because I also realize this means Jenevelle will get to see another baby, though who knows how she will react?

“Great idea. Plus, I’m sure Shadowheart needs some adult interaction that isn’t Astarion. Don’t get me wrong, I adore the guy, but I’m sure these past few days she’s been needing some time…outside of that. The adjustment is tough I’m sure. Wait, you want to see Astarion don’t you?” Gale and Astarion have become rather great friends and recently, Astarion will come over to hang out every now and then. Safe to say they actually hang out and get along. Gale never really had many friends – if any at all – so it’s nice to see them get close. Plus, he’s been giving Astarion parenting advice, though with Jenevelle not being able to age, he won’t be able to assist when their kid gets older.

“Hey now, it’s perfectly acceptable for a man to want time with good acquaintances every now and then. It’s of the essence that I partake in social interactions with others, though years ago I’d laugh if someone told me a close acquaintance would be a vampire.”

“Acquaintances?” He chuckles and rubs my back gently.

“Fine, fine. We’re good friends.”

After a while, we finally left the tower to bring over the gift basket I had made, and to socialize with our friends. The stroll through Waterdeep is so calm and unnerving, and there’s so many reasons why: the vibrant summer flowers on every corner, the scents of fruits and vegetables overwhelming our senses, and the quiet chatter of people sitting outside the library. We stop by my favorite herbal tea shop and I get a delicious dandelion tea with honey, and nobody makes it better than they do.

Shortly after walking away from the tea shop and continuing our walk toward Shadowheart and Astarion’s cottage, I hear a loud and easily recognizable voice in the distance and, surprise, it’s Karlach. I know we don’t live far from each other at all, but it manages to surprise me regardless each time I run into her. I guess it’s still an adjustment.

“Emmy! Gale! Miniature Dekarios! How are my favorite immortal humans?” she says ecstatically, her arm wrapped around Wyll’s as they’re strutting through town. They both look rather happy, and it seems they’re just strolling through the city casually.

“Well, fancy seeing you here!” I exclaim. “I’d hug you but Jenevelle is wrapped in her little…well, baby wrap. Anyway, we’re doing well. We’re on our way to visit Shadowheart and her new baby. Oh, and Astarion of course. I’m sure she’s exhausted.”

“Listen, I may not be having kids ever, but I do get to live vicariously through my favorite people. Don’t let Wyll’s father hear me saying that.”

“Yeah, unfortunately the old man’s been begging for grandkids. I have to tell him ‘we’re working on it,’ though that’s beyond false,” Wyll chimes in. “Then again, you never know what’s in store for us. Our lives are full of surprises as it is.” True. Who knew they’d find a forge in Avernus to fix Karlach’s ‘heart’? Who knew Wyll would sell his soul to fight for the Hells and save Karlach’s life by bringing her with him? Their lives sure have a lot of stories, ones needing to be told to the world. Hopefully they do end up telling the Duke grandchildren probably won’t happen for him. It seems they just want to live their life without kids, and that’s totally reasonable as it is.

“Say, Gale, are Wyll and I still coming by tonight to watch little Jenevelle? If so, I’m PUMPED!”

“Wait, huh?” My tone is full of confusion, as it should be. I knew Gale had a surprise for me, but didn’t realize we’d be leaving Jenevelle at home with our friends. I thought it would be a family outing, but I’m not complaining either way.

“Baby, that…was supposed to be a surprise,” Wyll reminds her, followed by a sigh. “Good gravy.”

“Fuck! I forgot! You know, eventually I’ll have a higher intelligence one of these days. Well, probably not.” Gale sighs and rolls his eyes, but smiles at her in forgiveness. We all know how she is, and we all love her anyway. What would life be like with her?

“Don’t sweat it, Karlach. Sometimes, the mind likes to wander off and leave behind crucial information. We all go through it,” Gale mutters with a soft tone, still smiling. Gods, I love this man.

“Why do I feel like that was a shot at my horrible memory?”

“I assure you, it was not. Now, I’ll see you both tonight. I appreciate you attending to watching our little one. You truly are one of the most reliable people we’ve ever met. For that, I thank you. Truly.”

“Hey, don’t mention it. I will snag these opportunities any chance I get.”

Wyll and Karlach take occasional breaks from Avernus; in fact, I’m not even sure when they went last. I also haven’t heard Wyll talk about Mizora in a long time, but I’m sure I’m just overthinking it. It’s worth asking about at some point.

We finally make it to Shadowheart and Astarion’s house after a nice long strut through the beauties of Waterdeep. Their cottage is a little further away from civilization, but the small journey was worth it. Also, I can’t exactly blame them for wanting to stay away from people, especially Astarion.

“Come on in, you two!” Shadowheart seems beyond thrilled that we’re here, and I can’t say I wouldn’t feel the same way. After having a baby, I wanted social interaction so badly; Shadowheart was one of the first to come through and get me through the loneliness while Gale was at the Academy. We step into her cozy, lovely home, and I immediately notice the insane amount of plants that take up an entire room in one part of their home. Astarion approaches us, holding their tiny little elf baby who appears to be sleeping. He has thick strawberry blonde hair and pale skin; you’d think he’s their biological child.

“Ah, if it isn’t our dearest friends. I know what everyone is thinking: ‘Astarion, your hair is a mess! When was the last time you groomed it?’ I’ll have you know, I haven’t exactly had time to maintain this luscious mane.” Gale and I chuckle, but understand exactly what he means.

“That sounds about right. Do not fret, my friend, you look fine,” I comment. “Besides, you should have seen Gale’s hair the first couple weeks.”

“Well, that’s comforting at least. You know, I never once visualized myself as a dad. The thought of children terrified me. Disgusted me. Then, when I saw you two have your baby, something…changed. It’s like a switch was turned on or something… Ask Gale. We talked all about this a few weeks ago. He talked me through the nerves and…well, it isn’t so bad. I love the little spawn.”

“It doesn’t help the adoption was so last minute. I always wanted children, but never had a plan. The opportunity presented itself unexpectedly. Needless to say, we’re so happy, and at first we were both so afraid,” Shadowheart adds. It seems they really are happy. They stare at each other amorously, then simultaneously look at their sleeping child. He’s so tiny. I handed her the gift basket I had made for them that contained a little quilted blanket, a mini crochet owlbear, a few clothed diapers, a rattle, and some bibs. “Emmy, this…is amazing. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.” I can see deep within her green eyes the sincere gratitude and love. What can I say? She’s one of my best friends; I don’t even remember the friends I used to have growing up, if I even had any.

“Don’t mention it. I’m glad to have done this.”

We enjoy the following hour or so just sitting outside and enjoying a few cups of tea. Astarion and Gale catch up, and they’re showing the babies off to each other. Jenevelle seems rather confused, but a little happy nonetheless. The other baby is a little too new to understand what’s going on, but he seems like an easy going child. Shadowheart asked me for tips on several topics, which I could only assist with so much considering Jenevelle is forever a three-month-old immortal baby.

As we all watch the sun begin to set, radiating a glorious apricot aura, I begin to think how life really is so incredible, and it’s even better having company to enjoy it with.

{view part 1 of my series and the rest of my fanfiction 👇🏻}

[ziracona]

I love the bits you’ve been doing of the DBD crew interacting with the scream cast. You have any other ideas/hcs about them?

Yeah! So, since they dealt with a Ghostface and Jane runs a huge talk show, I feel like it’s only a matter of time before Sidney is asked on to talk about her book, and Gale just to talk—Dewey too, if he’s up for it. Considering her personal experience, even though it’s not with the supernatural, I think Sidney would be inclined to believe them all—epsecially after meeting Jane in person, and they’d get talking about their respective experiences and lives.

Since Quentin, Nancy, and Kate at least are already canonically fans of her book, Out of Darkness, I feel like all three would jump at the chance to meet her for real—especially afte Jane says she’s exactly like she writes, and really nice and kind. This gets a few of them to meet up with Sid and Jane for a lunch. They hit it off really well, and Sidney is (duly) fascinated by the whole tale, and one of them (Kate or Quentin) asks if she’d like to see some of the stuff first hand, and she does.

Which is how Sidney Prescott ends up walking into Dwight, Jake, and Adam’s 6 Hour Pride & Prejudice marathon at the Indiana cabin Adam talked them into they didn’t expect any company for. Net end result is a bunch of survivors meet Sidney Prescott and have a weird but fun luncheon and she figures out about what this group is like right off the back. It goes well though, and the people who have met Sid end up introducing her to the rest. Gale and Dewey both get ripped in too, and they hang out several times kind of “professionally”, to talk, then just kind of go “huh we’re sort of friends now aren’t we?” And hang out again just because.

Considering respective trauma and having someone who really does get it, I think Laurie would get along pretty great with Sidney. Nancy, David, Kate, and Quentin too. Jane clicks wildly with Gale and they become a terror of unimaginable proportions when working stories together. Min also really likes Gale. Tapp is scared of her but not as scared as he is of Jane.Dwight and Adam get along best with Dewey. Ace flirts too much with Gale, which Gale enjoys becuase it’s goofy and not very serious, but Dewey doesn’t clock that and is like 😨😢😠—dw tho they get that sorted tho. Most of them just kind of group mesh, especially Jeff and Claudette. Jake gets on remarkably well with Mark Kincaid, to both their surprise. Mark: “The god damn system.” Jake, doing a shot of whisky: “The god damn system.”

They meet Kirby too, after a little while, and she and Nea click over funny physical therapy rehab stories. It’s also just kinda nice to meet new people you know really are at least close to as fucked up as you are because of life, and it provides for some great closure and solidarity comfort.

Meg is ecstatic about meeting Sidney and tells her she told Ghostface “Let’s see if I’m Sidney Prescott material” as a threat before kicking his ass. Sidney likes their story about doing this a lot, and it’s the only thing that convinces her to give Frank a chance eventually. She likes Susie right away.

Adam and Sidney bond over author stuff (Gale could, but she’s way into chasing stories right now, so she pops in and out of those conversations to throw advice like confetti).

It’s weirder for them meeting the killers. Since that’s not exactly common knowledge, they don’t tell any of them at first who Jeff’s kids or Meg’s girlfriend or Claudette’s brother, Quentin and Min’s mom, Laurie’s Brother were. I think it comes out entirely accidental over a dinner becuase one of them got so comfortable around the Scream friends they completely forgot in the instant it wasn’t common knowledge. It’s uh—it’s kind of a mess. Sort of a shocked silence, then a, “I’m sorry—what?” From Gale, a panicked shit shit shit do we lie? What’s the lie? From around the table, who to their credit were definitely going to lie and try to cover, but I think it’s Philip who gets outed and he’s there, and well, he’s Philip. So he just sets down his utensils and is like “That’s true. Please don’t tell anyone. It’s...hard to explain, and understand, and I don’t want anyone to come under fire for not turning me in when we arrived.”

And like, it’s been a couple months, so they know Philip, and even itching for the hot goss Gale is willing (and dying) to listen and hear this, so they get the real version from him, kind of start to finish, and take it...wildly well. Considering. Susie gives the second part of her story (“Yeah you knew I was a killer, but I didn’t just disobey and turn on the Entity—I killed three of them before I did that, and hurt more. Because I was terrified of getting killed.”). It’s a lot to process, but like, they get why they can’t say. Gale starts pushing that it would be wildly useful to include, maybe anonymously? That one of them was a killer for real in the realm. So people have more in their arsenal if they ever get taken. Susie already kind of supplies that, but an honest to god full version? Complete 360? And if the details were vague and it was published anonymously, no one would know which of them it had been—probably most would assume Anna which—well—technically isn’t wrong either... And the survivors consider that.

Benedict, who had been keeping distance out of a fear Gale tripping him up and revealing more than he was supposed to, finally meets the gang after this, and so does Sally, who they’d been trying to not have mingle too much out of fear of the same thing. It’s uh. It’s super weird. Having not lived it, just knowing what the killers did, and not having lived through the face part of that heel-face turn. Like. Yikes. The Legion are especially hard, becuase they make the least sense. Philip didn’t know, Sally was broken mentally and manipulated, Anna was feral, more or less so was Michael (who is the only one they are not told about. Laurie guards her secrets. Guards them. Eventually tells Sidney, but only Sidney. And talks to Michael first.) Legion on the other hand? They were scared, but that’s the only real excuse. So, that one’s hard. That one takes awhile. But Susie is so miserable about her past and frank about it, and so is Joey, they’re a lot easier—especially Susie, by a mile, considering how many bullets she was ready to take. Frank and Julie are harder, and the Legion’s pasts aren’t actually so much ‘told’ as figured out. Susie is the only one to admit, Gale, who has been reading up, makes a guess like a statement, and her poker face isn’t good enough, and they just kinda know then.

They prove to be trustworthy (thank god—after dinner everyone [once alone] is like “Philip what the fuck man TuT don’t throw yourself under busses I’m begging you.”), so it works out, but it takes a little time to adjust to some of that. Eventually though, things smooth, and all three become semi-regulars to see. Most of their friends and family are dead, so it’s a nice addition to the Scream fam’s social lives too. Gale sometimes pitches in with Tapp and Meg’s work when she can. They meet up when in town. It’s just. It’s really nice, for all of them. They feel just a little more understood, and not like aliens back home. It’s a healing experience for the whole gang.

Sidney gets a lot of the younger survivors following her like ducklings for a while wanting to ask questions and also stealing her style becuase this is just how Meg and Nea and Susie will be sometimes. It’s cute though. She gets so many damn interviews, but for once they’re just motivated by curiosity and excitement at solidarity and inspiration, not a grab for network views or something to boost reputation, and it’s...it’s really nice. To have people that want to know for the reasons you’d want a person to want to know that kind of shit for.

[mellarked-katnisseverdeen]

Food for thought: An AU where Peetas family makes it to District 13. 

Like maybe I am the only one but I’ve always been so interested in what would have/could have happened if Peeta’s parents and brothers made out of the bombing.  

Some of my general ideas include Katniss and Mrs. Mellark clashing hard core. Secondly, I actually think Peeta’s brothers would be the first ones to help him. In a lot the same way as Delly, they would try and get him to recall the truth. From what we know there was nothing out of the ordinary relationship wise between the brothers- so my assumptions is they love him, and would want him back to himself. 

Something tells me in general, Peetas recovery would maybe not faster. But smoother? Less painful? Having his family, even his not-so-loving mother, around to ease him back into the truth, would be comforting to him I think. 

I can actually see Katniss and Gale drifting further apart faster too. Theres a part in MJ I think we all remember, when Katniss says she only wants Haymitch around. Simply because he loved Peeta too. Well...his father and brothers are on that list of people, too. And I don't think she’d put up with Gales BS if she had them as a support system, along with her mother, sister, Finnick and Johanna. Even more so after he got a little too close to Coin. 

That just some cursory thoughts though. And I’d love to hear all yours!