#the seven spend the entire trip trying to figure out if all those lighting strikes are just Jason or if they've somehow angered Zeus

[arley-ology]

When he gets overwhelmed or frustrated, Jason will quite literally ground himself by sitting with both his hands and feet on the ground so he doesn't accidentally shock anyone or cause a city to lose power. This becomes a problem on the Argo II, where going on the ground is dangerous for the crew, so he has no place to safely put his excess electrical energy. He has to apologize to Leo regularly for short-circuiting the ship. Turns out he is a great power source for jump-starting the electrical, though!

[sxfterhearts]

healed

31. [12:19 pm]

➳ pairing: yugyeom x reader

➳ genre/warnings: slow burn, fluff, slight bad boy!yugyeom, triggers; mentions of past violence, injuries, physical abuse

➳ word count: 2,725 words

➳ summary: 31. “Don’t worry about me,”

➳ author's note: this is it, the final part of this series! i hope it doesn’t let you down 😭😭 i’d love to hear your thoughts on this series, what you liked/didn’t like, and whether you’d like future drabbles in this universe!! (i’m tempted, tbh) that’s all from me, please please enjoy, lovely readers 🥰 (credits to @jinyoungot7​ for this wonderful gif that kills me everytime)

wounded // scarred // healed

A deep inhale made you giddy with joy. The familiar, sweet scent of this morning’s light drizzle lingered in the air. Although the weather was a bit too humid for your liking, you gratefully savoured the smell that filled your lungs. For some reason, being outside in the aftermath of a downpour always brought you back to that wooden counter of your parents’ restaurant. You used to watch the rain blanket the outside world from the inside as you soaked and drowned yourself in your daydreams. You were a foolish teenager back then, uncertain of the paths you would take and anxious of the future. Getting your heart broken by the one and only Kim Yugyeom was just the icing on the cake.

It was fair to say that a lot had changed since then. In the span of three years, you graduated high school, moved out of that tiny neighbourhood in Namyangju, rented a small studio apartment in Seoul and became a proud Veterinary Science student of Seoul National University.

Yet, you couldn’t help but to admit that while you had progressed into the next chapter of your life, some things will always remain the same. Like how your best friend, Yeeun, never missed out on an opportunity to lecture you over the phone from the comforts of her Busan home. You lifted the device away from your ears to save them from further damage, just as the leash of the cream Pomeranian in your care, Daisy, tugged you forwards, towards a passing bicycle. You urged the dog away from the edge of the sidewalk with a solid ‘No’, which she thankfully obeyed.

“I can’t believe that you’re not doing anything special the week before uni reopens! I mean, hello, we’re going to be spending the next twelve weeks slaving away at our desks, don’t you want to do something fun?” Yeeun shrieked in disbelief. You could imagine her shaking her head at you with that resigned look on her face, the one that signalled she had already given up trying to change your mind.

“Here, girl.” You whispered as softly as you could, trying to grab Daisy’s attention and guide her back to the adoption centre-cum-café, her temporary home. “This is fun and special, Eun. You of all people should know just how special it is to help out these cute furry little babies!”

“More like furry little rascals.” She muttered under her breath. “Come on, Y/N. I get that you’re really passionate about animals and all but just think about it – you’ll be facing these creatures for the rest of your life. You should really try something new once in a while. You know, go drinking or clubbing like a normal uni student. Besides, didn’t you just visit the centre last month for your birthday?”

She was right. You did make the one-hour trip to the adoption café on the morning of your birthday. Ever since that birthday three years ago, you always made it a point to celebrate by being in the presence of a furry companion. Taking care of another living creature, going on walks with them and picking up after them helped you to take your mind off that painful sixteenth birthday when you found out he was leaving. It became your annual ritual.

You cleared your throat, trying to get rid of the small lump triggered by those memories. “Yeah, yeah I did. I… Did I tell you about the dog that I took care of that day?”

Yeeun took a large bite of her favourite takeaway noodles before letting out a muffled “No, what about it?”

“He was… Well, he was a tiny black Pomeranian puppy, not more than four months old. He was cheerful and energetic, couldn’t wait to go on his walk.” You smiled sadly at the thought.

“Yeah…? And?”

“He reminded me so much of Charcoal. You know, the black puppy from your mum’s shelter? I walked Charcoal with him three years ago.”

“Oh, him.” Yeeun grumbled at the mention of Yugyeom.

You ignored the obvious disapproval in her tone. “Yeah, the thing is I really, really, really liked this puppy, and I was even thinking about adopting him for good. I got everything set up in my place, got the pee mats, the dog food, everything, but I came in this morning and he was gone.”

Yeeun hummed over the phone. “I’m sorry, honey. Maybe you and the puppy just weren’t meant to be.” She said, trying her best to comfort you about the adoption that fell through. “Do you still think of him? Kim Yugyeom?” Yeeun asked gently.

You sighed, catching a brief glimpse of your reflection on the windows of a cold noodle restaurant a few doors down from the adoption centre. To this day, you couldn’t enjoy a bowl of naengmyeon without your mind wandering to the boy. “Not often. Honestly, Eun, every time I think I’ve forgotten him, I’ll see something that reminds me of him and he’ll just creep back into my head.”

“You know what they always say, darling. You never really forget your first love.”

You mulled over her words as you rounded the corner towards the adoption centre, Daisy trotting a few paces in front of you. “I wouldn’t call it love, per se, it’s just-”

“Wait, hold that thought,” She interrupted. “I’m sorry honey, the boyfriend is at the door. Do you mind if we continue this later?”

“Yeah, sure, I need to go too.” You stood at the entrance of the centre, reluctant to go in and part ways with Daisy. The dog came to a rest by your feet, huddling close. “Thanks for calling and reminding me of my poor life choices!” You said, full of sarcasm.

“Hey, that’s my duty as your best friend, don’t mention it.” She chuckled. “Oh, and Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Remember what I said. Go live a little, okay? You’ve already wasted too much time on Kim Yugyeom.”

“Yeah, I will.” You mumbled, agreeing with her words. “Go enjoy yourself with the boyfriend. Not too much though, and spare me the details. Talk next time!”

The two of you bid each other farewell and ended the call. Miraculously, talking to Yeeun made your chest a little lighter. Amongst countless other things, she had been there for you during Yugyeom’s abrupt departure and the initial stages of denial. She helped you draft, edit, and re-edit the numerous emails you sent to the boy, the only form of communication between you two for the first six months. She hugged you close and let you sulk on her shoulder when the emails suddenly stopped seven months after he left for Incheon. You were beyond grateful to have her as a voice of reason amongst your irrational thoughts; someone to walk with you hand in hand through the storms of life.

You made a mental note to ask your mother to send Yeeun a parcel of her prized kimchi as part of next month’s delivery. The girl never failed to mention how much she missed your parent’s cooking whenever the two of you talked on the phone.

All of a sudden, a high-pitched bark travelled across the street. You instinctively tightened your hold on Daisy’s leash, wary of the arrival of another canine. Cautiously, you watched as a four-legged, black ball of fur whizzed past the empty street, arriving before you and Daisy in a matter of seconds. As the dog grew closer and closer, recognition flashed across your mind as you noticed the dog’s distinctive white collar, a stark contrast to his coal black fur. The dog you intended to adopt this morning was wagging his tail and panting by your feet, letting out occasional playful barks at Daisy, his former neighbour. You bent down, arm reaching out to get a feel for his oh-so-soft fur–

“Dal!” A male voice, bright and awfully familiar, exclaimed between heavy breaths. “Dal, slow down, big boy! Daddy can’t…” The voice died down a notch, reducing to a whisper as its owner’s feet entered your line of sight. His entire body shaded your crouched figure from the afternoon sunshine that peeked through the clouds. “Catch up.”

A moment of silence ensued as your eyes panned upwards, scanning a pair of long legs covered in ripped jeans, then a yellow plaid shirt that was haphazardly tucked in, right up to the owner’s face. You couldn’t help the sharp gasp leaving your lips. 

Standing before you was none other than Kim Yugyeom himself. His features were more defined than ever, his wavy hair a silvery shade of platinum blonde and his ears adorned with a pair of silver hoop earrings. A single stainless-steel drop earring dangled from his earlobe, its bottom decorated with a half-crescent moon and a star. You stood there and stared at the boy you once knew, now a fine young man, just taking him in. You noticed the lack of cuts and scars on his unblemished, fully healed face. You spotted the beauty mark right under his right eye, standing out against his fair skin. You watched, mesmerised, as his lips twitched to form a slightly sheepish grin, while the tips of his ears burned and glowed into a striking shade of cherry red. Yugyeom’s eyes widened in mild surprise, his gaze lingering on your face for a few stretched out seconds before wandering away, then returning back.          

Him… It’s him… He’s here, in Seoul? But I thought he was supposed to be in Incheon, with Mark. What is he doing here? And how did he…? Your never-ending stream of thoughts swirled inside your head at an alarming rate, and you felt the onset of a splitting headache crawl up your temples.

“There you are, Y/N.” Yugyeom said finally, releasing a satisfied sigh and an airy laugh. He didn’t seem nearly half as surprised as you felt under these unlikely circumstances. In fact, you thought that the expression he wore on his face morphed into one of relief instead. “After so long, I finally found you.” He bent down to scoop the black puppy into his arms, leaving you utterly stunned. Before your mind could process the meaning behind his words, however, he suggested, “Let’s talk inside,”, gesturing towards the entrance of the adoption café. 

You gave him a meek nod, not daring to let out a sound on the off chance that you would stumble over your words and make a fool out of yourself. With the manners of a gentleman, Yugyeom held the door open for you and waited patiently as you ushered an excited Daisy into the café filled with her furry friends. He took confident, quick strides towards the barista standing behind the counter, much like the first time he had walked into your parents’ restaurant. The way he carried himself, with an air of calm coolness, had not changed at all. You followed closely behind, struggling to keep up with his bigger steps.

“Hello, noona.” He greeted the lady, friendly and warm. “Can I please get an Iced Choco and…?” Yugyeom turned to you expectantly.

“Uh…” You started, soft and uncertain. “A peach iced tea, please.”

“No longer a coffee addict, huh?” He teased, unable to contain his toothy smile. Yugyeom retrieved his wallet from his back pocket and held out his card to pay. It was then that you noticed, quite belatedly, the yellow Rilakuma plaster wrapped tightly around his left index finger.

Your mind began to race. You were unbelievably happy that even after three years, he still stuck to the same brand of bandages, but at the same time, fear and anxiety gnawed and scratched against your chest. All this time, was it still happening? You wondered silently. Surely… “What’s… What’s with your,” You gestured vaguely towards his appendages. “Your finger?” You squeaked.

“Ah,” Yugyeom glanced briefly towards the yellow plaster, paying it little to no mind. “Come, sit down first, okay?”

“No,” You replied with a firm tone that you rarely used. You were a little taken aback yourself. “I’ve spent the past three years worried sick about you. Don’t you at least owe me an explanation about your most recent injury?”

Yugyeom sensed your insistence and determination, knowing that there really was no use trying to convince you otherwise. “It’s nothing to worry about, Y/N, trust me, I’ll show-”

“I’ll be the judge of that. Let me see.”

“Look, it’s just a small cut, okay?” You raised an eyebrow at his description. From memory, his definition of a small cut was miles apart from yours. He took a step closer, hoping to persuade you. “Here,” Yugyeom peeled away the sticky fabric with little difficulty, revealing a thin slit that already closed up. “See? It’s tiny. I was cooking the other day and the knife just sort of slipped and nicked my finger. I told you, don’t worry about me.”

Still, you were unwilling to let him off the hook so easily. “Kim Yugyeom? Cooking? Are you sure that’s safe?”

“Perhaps not the safest…” He admitted with an embarrassed rub of his neck, leading you towards an empty table by the windows. “I just really, really missed your mother’s food. Her naengmyeon especially. I’ve tasted every single naengmyeon in Incheon and Seoul and honestly, nothing comes close. I even tried to cook it myself but, well… You can guess how that turned out.”

“What made you think that your naengmyeon could be better than a restaurant’s?” You questioned jokingly, earning yourself a faked wince of pain from Yugyeom as he clutched the right side of his chest, the wrong side.

After that, it was like the words couldn’t stop flowing out of your mouths. He told you about how he caught a glimpse of your adoption papers during his interview for Dalkyum, the black puppy, and recognised your photo. He confessed that he was initially drawn to Dalkyum due to his sheer resemblance to Charcoal, to which you agreed wholeheartedly. He moved to Seoul late last year to study Fine Arts at the Korea National University of Arts, and you revealed that you were studying to become a vet. He explained how half a year after moving to Incheon, Mark had accidentally downloaded a virus onto their shared laptop while gaming, rendering it broken beyond repair. He didn’t write down your email address and thanks to his goldfish memory, he forgot the entire string of letters once Mark found a replacement.

It seemed like the more you talked to Yugyeom, the more you felt the icy shards of pain and sorrow around your heart melt away. Although, that could probably be because he was looking at you with the brightest of expressions, his mouth permanently fixed into a wide, million-watt smile.

“What do you think? Shall we start over?” You asked after a lull in the conversation, taking a sip of the soothing, saccharine liquid.

“No, I’d rather we pick up where we left off, but with a proper introduction.” He extended his arm for you to shake, which you did with a light scoff and an upturn of your lips. “Hello, my name is Kim, Yu, Gyeom. Kim for gold, Yu, which means to have, and Gyeom, as in humble or modest. It’s nice to meet you again, Y/N. You look beautiful today, as always. Did you know that? I can’t stop myself from being drawn to you, but I guess some things never change.”

“I… What…?” You sputtered hopelessly, reigniting the butterflies in your stomach. “Yugyeom, I’m literally in an old t-shirt and baggy shorts.”

“Doesn’t matter to me, Y/N.”

//

“There’s another thing that never changed, which unfortunately was also out of my control.”

“Oh no, what else, Kim?”

“I’m sorry to tell you this so late, Y/N, but sadly, you were and are my first love. And you see, the thing about first loves is that no matter how hard you try, you simply can’t-”

“Forget them.”

“Exactly. Trust me, I tried.”

“Yeah, I tried too, so hard. I guess you weren’t meant to be forgotten. Or I guess we weren’t meant to forget each other.”

“First loves stick with you like a scar that can never be fully healed.”

“Wow, look at you, Kim! I’m impressed, you’ve become so poetic.”

“From now on, I’ll only write poems for you.”

[thebibliomancer]

Tides of the Dark Crystal liveblog pt 20

Tides of the Dark Crystal by J.M. Lee because dang the All-Maudra died. Gotta see what happens next.

Last times on book: Amri and co are on a quest to unite all the Gelfling clans against the Skeksis. They’ve managed with the Sifa by convincing Maudra Ethri to look at some cool flames. They’ve managed with the Dousan by restoring a cool, giant tree. But now they’ve received word that that the All-Maudra has died.

Chapter 20

Team Naia travels to Ha’rar... no, that can’t be right.

Amri felt like he must have misheard. Erimon passed the parchment to Kylan, who read it again. Amri didn’t need to read it. He didn’t want to. It wouldn’t explain how or why or who had done it. Just that it had happened. He reached up to see if Tavra was still on his shoulder. She was where she’d been since they’d leaped into the lake, but she said nothing.

Oof. I hadn’t thought of that but poor Tavra.

Her mom died and she never got a chance to go ‘yo i’m alive but a spider but and also you can’t stop me from dating Onica now because we can’t have lesbian babies like this.’

Amri wonders if the All-Maudra was killed by the Skeksis because she vowed to resist the Skeksis but that sets Kylan off. Also, Kylan shows he’s upset by crossing his arms and twisting his ears back. Like a cat?

But Kylan points out that All-Maudra Mayrin said she was lighting the fire of resistance but nothing happened like what happened with the Sifa and the Dousan where actual rainbow flames burned the story of uniting the Gelfling into something nearby.

“You think she didn’t light the fire after all?” Naia asked.

“Maybe she thought she had,” Onica said solemnly. “Maybe she died trying.”

They had no proof except the feeling in their hearts. Amri didn’t want to believe it, but he couldn’t deny it either: The Vapra fire had never been lit.

But if the fires HADN’T been lit for the Vapra and the All-Maudra was no longer leading them with some lip service about resisting. Then it means there was only one path for Team Naia to take in the seven chapters still left in this book.

They were going to Ha’rar after all.

MY GOD.

I never thought this day would come.

I mean, something is going to sidetrack them, right??

Because the side characters are making sure that nothing gets in their way.

Erimon lends them his Crystal Skimmer Tappa because she’s the fastest in his xeric and even asks Periss to drive it.

Ha, I knew Periss was joining the party.

Erimon has to stay and help organize the resistance with the other sandmasters once they arrive since Maudra Seethi is on her way to Ha’rar.

WHERE I CAN’T BELIEVE THE TEAM IS ACTUALLY GOING. Its been nearly three books of not going to Ha’rar! J.M. Lee, you’re blowing my mind!

“Now that the storm has broken, the xerics will continue to arrive. I will tell them the song of what has happened here. And when the time comes, we will heed the signal of the flames. We will join the fight against the Skeksis.”

“We still don’t know what that signal will be,” Naia said.

Erimon bowed. “We can never fully predict what form a sign will take. We only know it when we see it, or hear it, or sense it some other way. But I have faith in Thra, and in you. I will se to it the Dousan do not forsake the gifts we have been given. Not as we have in the past, nor ever again.”

You’ve really learned a thing, Erimon.

Erimon says that he thinks Periss can get them to Ha’rar in a day and so and apparently without a storm and without all the supplies, Tappa nyooms.

On the Skimmer trip, the team continues to discuss the All-Maudra’s death. Tavra finally pipes up to suggest that Mayrin failed to light the fires of resistance because the Skeksis found her out. But that there’s no point in speculating.

Because she’s finally getting what she’s wanted all along, to go to Ha’rar but in the way she’d least want it.

Be careful what you wish for?

“We must go to Ha’rar and reach someone who can tell us what happened. No more Far-Dreams or riddles from Thra. I want answers.”

“How are you taking this?” Amri asked. Tried to keep it soft, to let her know he was asking her feelings and not her political opinion. She was hesitant in answering.

“I am worried for my sisters. I am worried for my people.”

Amri tells her that Seladon will take care of Brea to reassure her and if Seladon’s arc is similar to the show then, -laughs in irony-.

Tavra was quiet a long time, unmoving. She curled one leg in.

“I don’t know that she will,” she said. “that is my greatest fear. My mother put her duties first and her daughters second. It was difficult to find ways to earn her love. Because of our station. But we tried. For me, that meant becoming a soldier. For Brea, becoming a scholar. For Seladon, it meant becoming All-Maudra one day... but the pressure was often too much. She is not ready, and I fear the Skeksis know that.”

“You should be All-Maudra,” Naia said suddenly.

Hah. Naia doesn’t even know Seladon and she’s like ‘wow she probably sucks and you’d be better.’ Poor Seladon.

The idea brought a strange fantasy to life. Tavra, in her Gelfing body. Sword in hand, drapedi n the silver cloaks with the living crown on her brow. She had traveled farther than any of them, knew more of the state of the world. Knew the Skeksis all by name, knew how the All-Maudra was expected to behave. Had the respect of her clan as a Vapra princess, but knew firsthand the hardships that had befallen the Gelfling who were so unlucky to find themselves in the Skeksis’ crushing grasp.

If there was ever a leader the Gelfling could look to, Amri realized, it was Tavra. Tavra, who was locked in the body of a spider, whose voice could barely be heard even by those who knew enough to listen.

“That is impossible,” Tavra said. She slipped below the rail and disappeared into Kylan’s traveling pack.

Relatable.

As evening falls they get closer to the snowlands and Periss tells them he’ll have to leave them at the frost line because Tappa is a DESERT CREATURE.

Nooooo Periss, you’re supposed to be the sixth ranger! You can’t leave your new best pals!

He also calls Naia Amri’s girlfriend and he does do the “she’s not my girlfriend” thing but less vehement and more embarrassed.

“Have you dreamfasted together?”

Amri’s ears went flat at the forward question. Of course he’d dreamfasted with Naia, but only to share memories that they’d needed to share, so the truth of the Skeksis and the message they carried would not be forgotten. But there were other memories, ones more secret and intimate. Private hopes and fears. Memories he had all to himself, beautiful things he’d seen when he’d been alone. Dreams he’d had, and nightmares.

Amri had always hoped one day to find someone to share those memories with. Someone he trusted enough and who trusted him to truly dreamfast. To share everything. It had never occurred to him that someone might be Naia. Until now, and only thanks to a wily Dousan thief. Periss grinned ear to ear, as if making Amri blush from embarrassment was his new favorite game.

“No. Not that way,” he mumbled.

“Do you want to?” Periss asked.

“I want to change the subject.”

Oh my god.

Oh my god.

Excuse me I need to take a moment.

a moment

You’re adorable, Amri.

Also, based on this, Jen and Kira basically got engaged the first time they met. Just went full info dump on each other. ‘HEY I GUESS THATS ME AS A BABY’ because they never learned to not overshare in dreamfasting and because nobody ever taught Jen about sex.

Also also, this fits well with what we learn in the first book about how its a sign of maturity for Gelfchildren to learn how to not broadcast their entire lifestory the instant someone touches them.

I continue to love the nuances we get about dreamfasting.

After sleeping and starting another day of travel, Amri spends some time practicing sword because he’s changed his tune on that.

Amri practiced his sword stances, parries and thrusts. Imagined striking down Skeksis after Skeksis as he charged into a citadel swarming with darkened beasts. It felt heroic in his mind, that part -- the charge, the thought that he could single-handedly defeat the monsters that might have taken the shining city -- but in the end, even in his fantasies, when they finally reached the throne, the All-Maudra was already dead.

Aw.

Although the first part of this wild fantasy sounds like Amri should have been scenario writing for the Age of Resistance trpg.

But its more about his understanding that even if he becomes a cool, heroic swashbuckling figure with like two whole days of sword practice under his belt and even if they win, that victory will always carry with it the tragedies the Skeksis inflicted on the way. Mira, Mayrin, other Gelfing whose names don’t start with M’s.

They reach the frost line and dangit Periss actually leaves! Just because you’re the sixth ranger you think you can come and go to save the budget??

Although, in a nice bit of growth, he gives the team all the jewelry he stole from the Sifa. Nice, they can give Tae her stuff back if they see her.

Going the rest of the way on foot, Team Naia actually reaches Ha’rar. I’m frankly shocked.

Like the crystals in a broken geode, the city of Ha’rar glittered in the protective shell of the mountains, covered in snow and glowing with moon- and starlight. At the far edge of the city, a majestic building stood with its back to the wide Silver Sea. It looked like an icicle, or one of the many crystal stalagmites in Domrak and the Caves of Grot. Every elaborately sculpted feature refracted the light of the moons and the Waystar, sending night rainbows across the city.

It was beautiful, but eerily silent and ominously dark.

Hmmmm.

None of the lanterns are lit and none of the people are out and about on the streets. Spooky.

Tavra tells them that they absolutely must not be caught by the Skeksis. And then with her hometown knowledge guides them along back paths and side roads.

They have to duck out of view at one point when two Skeksis come down the street.

Skeksis. Two of them, passing by on the street just in front of them. One wore broad-shouldered, black-scaled armor, covering his spiny back like the carapace of an armalig. Gray hair -- or was it fur? grew across his blunt forehead and cheeks, casting a hazy shadow upon his scowling lips and piercing yellow eyes. The other stood straighter in his crimson and black robes, armored and adorned in shining gold chains. He seemed taller yet, thanks to the fleshy spike that protruded from the top of his head like a horn.

“skekUng and skekZok,” Tavra whispered. “The General and the Ritual Master.”

I wonder if skekVar exists in this continuity.

skekUng is the General so Var doesn’t have a lot to be doing.

Also, FLESHY SPIKE? ZOK ARE YOU OKAY?

-google image-

He does have a gold hat thing but in one of the comics he just has a tall head spike so I DUNNO. I’m a little alarmed of him now.

Anyway, skekUng being here is bad because they all remember skekLi gloating that skekUng was making something bad.

Being possessed of ‘only the most relevant conversational snippets’ senses, skekUng complains “This is a waste of time. I say we kill the princess as we killed her mother and let the Vapra bow directly to us. As they should.”

Which confirms that the Skeksis killed the All-Maudra.

AND THEN before they can process that, Amri is grabbed by a hooded Gelfling.

“He’s possessed by a spider,” hissed a female voice, familiar in Amri’s ear. “On his shoulder -- quick, grab it and crush it!”

Onica stops the hooded Gelfling, who turns out to be Tae. Hi Tae!

Tae isn’t convinced because apparently the body-jacking spiders are a known and concerning concern at this point.

Amri tells Tavra that its time to reveal herself to Tae.

Tavra let out a tired sigh.

“Tae, it’s me. Katavra.”

Love that tired sigh. Spiders can’t even sigh. That’s just how tired Tavra is.

Tae wants to know HOW and possibly several repeated incredulous WHATs but Amri points out that its not a great idea to get into that in the middle of a sneaking mission. So Tae leads them off somewhere they can talk.

Geez only six chapters left. And we’ve got Ha’rar, a dead All-Maudra, Tae’s back. Periss took off... dangit did Periss take off because of a party limit? Tae is now the sixth party member?

[bobasheebaby]

125 How I Met Your Mother Prompts

More prompts this one is mega long but broken up by character. I think it’s a pretty good mix of funny and angsty. Break at 15.

Barney Stinson

1 “You know what NAME needs to do. He needs to stop being sad. When I get sad, I stop being sad, and be awesome instead. True story.”

2 “A lie is just a great story that someone ruined with the truth.”

3 “ It's going to be legen...wait for it...and I hope you're not lactose-intolerant cause the second half of that word is...dairy!”

4 “Suit up!”

5 “Believe it or not, I was not always as I am today.”

6 “I realized that I'm searching, searching for what I really want in life. And you know what? I have absolutely no idea what that is.”

7 “Every Halloween, I bring a spare costume, in case I strike out with the hottest boy/girl at the party. That way, I have a second chance to make a first impression.”

8 “Whatever you do in this life, it’s not legendary unless your friends are there to see it.”

9 “Three days. We wait three days to call a man/woman, because that's how long Jesus wants us to wait... True story.”

10 “There’s three rules of cheating: 1. It’s not cheating if you’re not the one who’s married. 2. It’s not cheating if his/her name has two adjacent vowels. 3. And it's not cheating if he’s/she’s from a different area code.”

11 “I peed in an alley which happened to have a church which I did not see because I was drunk.”

12 “I'm such a mess. Why do you even like me?” “I guess, because you're almost as messed up as I am.”

13 “In my body, where the shame gland should be, there is a second awesome gland. True story.”

14 “Do you have some puritanical hang up on prostitution? Dude, it’s the world’s oldest profession.”

15 “Here’s the mini-cherry on top of the regular cherry on top of the sundae of awesomeness that is my life.”

16 “God, it’s me, NAME. What up? I know we don’t talk much, but I know a lot of guys/girls call out your name because of me.”

17 “Okay, pep talk! You can do this, but to be more accurate, you probably can’t. You’re way out of practice and he’s/she’s way too hot for you. So, remember, it’s not about scoring. It’s about believing you can do it, even though you probably can’t. Go get ‘em, tiger!”

18 “De — wait for it — nied! Denied! We’re goin’ out tomorrow night.”

19 “Step six is called purg— wait for it. Keep waiting. Keep waiting for all of eternity only to discover that there’s no escape —atory.”

20 “I think tonight is going to be de — wait for it — lightful.”

21 “Ted, tonight is gonna be — wait for it — dary! Wait, no, that’s not it. How do I usually say it?”

22 “You watch, NAME, tonight is going to be legen— it’s the night we stole a camel! Which means it will be full of drama —dary.”

23 “I’m just gonna grab this star to put on top of the tree. It’s gonna be legend— wait for it —merry.”

24 “Haaaave you met NAME?”

25 “Challenge accepted!”

Robin Scherbatsky

26 “Oh, come on, ref! I haven't seen that much hooking go unpunished since my last trip to Vegas.“

27 “Just be yourself. Say something nice.” “Which one? I can't do both.”

28 “Before you know it, you'll be marrying a man/woman who once ate a vanilla-scented candle!” “That was on me. I shouldn't have left it in the kitchen. Though, it was lit. Man, he/she dumb.”

29 “Destined? Aren't you tired of waiting for destiny, NAME? Isn't it time to make your own destiny?“

30 “NAME was great.” “Exactly, and you threw it all away to chase after some hot piece of ass.” “You mean you?” “Thank you!”

31 “Oh, we're busting apple bags? I can bust apple bags.“

32 “NAME, I am not ready for them to find out about us.” “Then you're gonna have to stay in there for the entire trilogy. Don't worry, it's only 382 minutes.” “Nerd!”

33 “You know NAME? Been thinking about it. Guess it's kind of nice you're such a bad-ass.” “It's pretty bad-ass you're so nice, NAME.”

34 “14 seconds! And already some dingdong is stepping up, thinking he can get some of this broke off.”

35 “But timing is a bitch.”

36 “Well, maybe this isn't a breakup. Maybe this is two friends getting back together.“

37 “There's something between us. Maybe my head was saying, 'nip it in the bud', because my heart was saying something else ...”

38 “I just finished a seven-day cleanse.” “I thought you just started that yesterday.” “I finished early, okay?”

39 “NAME! I just had a great idea!” “Oh, do whatever you want to me, just don't wake me up.”

40 “Okay, I've missed you. Not in a 'we're gonna make out' way, not even in an 'I forgive you' way. Just in an 'I've missed you' way.”

41 “I may not love you the way you love me, but I do love you.”

42 “But ... umm.”

43 “Why am I constantly looking for reasons not to be happy?”

44 “Oh, that’s right. I’m alone.”

45 “I’m gonna give you summer teeth ... some’re here, some’re there.”

46 “You can’t run back to the past because it’s familiar.”

47 “Nobody asked you, NAME.”

48 “It’s one thing to not want something. It’s another to be told you can’t have it.”

49 "I am never going to have closure. Okay, closure doesn't exist."

50 “You are going to miss out on something great.”

Ted Mosby

51 "If you're not scared then you're not taking a chance. And if you're not taking a chance, then what the hell are you doing anyway?"

52 “You can ask the universe for signs all you want but ultimately we'll only see what we want to see...when we're ready to see it.”

53 "Nothing good happens after 2:00 am… when 2:00 am rolls around, just go home and go to sleep."

54 "The more you fight it, the worse it’s gonna get. It’s like when your car slides on ice, you steer into the skid."

55 "Sorry, Peter. We're grown ups now, we can't fly to Nevrland with you anymore."

56 "I wound up shame-eating the whole pizza. I woke up all greasy and sweaty. My sheets looked like what they wrap deli sandwiches in. Maybe I should join a gym. Do you go to a gym?"

57 "People make fun of the guy/girl who stays home every night doing nothing, but the truth is that guy/girl is a genius.”

58 “Love doesn't make sense! You can't logic your way into or out of it. Love is totally nonsensical. But we have to keep doing it or else we're lost and love is dead, and humanity should just pack it in. Because love is the best thing we do.”

59 “Everyone has an opinion on how long it takes to recover from a breakup.”

60 “There are a lot of little reasons why the big things in our lives happen.”

61 “There are two big days in any love story: the day you meet the guy/girl of your dreams and the day you marry him/her.”

62 ““I’m crazy about you. I think we should be together. What do you say?” “Yes. No. Maybe.” “Those are the three options.”

63 “The littlest thing can cause a ripple effect that changes your life.”

64 “It's kind of insane how much happened in just a day and a half.”

65 “Whether a gesture's charming or alarming, depends on how it's received.”

66 “Because sometimes even if you know how something's gonna end that doesn't mean you can't enjoy the ride.”

67 “Shouldn't we hold out for the person who doesn't just tolerate our little quirks but actually kinda likes them?”

68 “I used to be in such a hurry all the time. Everything was so urgent. Now I figured, if it's going to happen it'll happen when it happens. I'm not going anywhere, he’s/she's not going anywhere. What's the rush, right?”

69 “I think for the most part if you're really honest with yourself about what you want out of life, life gives it to you.”

70 “We spend so much effort trying to keep parts of our lives hidden, even from our closest friends, that in those rare times when we do open up, it's amazing how minor those secrets all end up being.”

71 “You may think your only choices are to swallow your anger or throw it in someone's face, but there's a third option: You can just let it go, and only when you do that is it really gone and you can move forward.”

72 “I'm sorry, when I'm excited I abbreviate words I shouldn't.”

73 “We gotta wait for the real thing, no matter how tough it gets.”

74 “When you believe in people, people come through.”

75 “If you love something, you can never let it go. Not even for a second. Or it's gone forever.“

76 “Hey ref! Check your voicemail, I think you've missed a few calls!“

77 “Turns out, when you projectile vomit on skates, you roll right into the spray.“

78 “NAME, if you asked a hundred people: 'Who's the worst person you could possibly date?' They'd all say 'your therapist', except the ones saying 'NAME'.”

79 “Sometimes our best decisions are the ones that don't make any sense at all.“

80 “We've always been a trio! We're right up there with Batman and Robin and Alfred. Romeo and Juliet and the apothecary. Salt and pepper and cumin.“

Lily Aldrin

81 “You guys dated before. That time counts. The clock doesn't reset to zero. It un-pauses from where you left off.”

82 “We struggle so hard to hold on to these things that we know are gonna disappear eventually. And that’s really noble.”

83 “You can’t just skip ahead to where you think your life should be.”

84 “I know it's a mistake, but there are certain things in life where you know it's a mistake but you don't really know it's a mistake because the only way to really know it's a mistake is to make the mistake and look back and say 'yep, that was a mistake.' So really, the bigger mistake would be to not make the mistake, because then you'd go your whole life not knowing if something is a mistake or not.”

85 “Yes, I'm in a rotten mood. No, I don't want to talk about it. Yes, this has booze in it. No, it's not my first.”

86 “The 'no more surprises'-thing is the best part of being married.”

87 “So, what do you want to do tonight? Drink ourselves blind, set a car on fire? Oh, watch a movie that doesn't start with a desk lamp jumping on top of a capital 'I'?”

88 “Baby, you're like 20 slutty chicks all rolled into one.” “Sweet-talk is not gonna change my mind!”

89 “So this is what you guys do? You invite other couples over for dinner, to judge them and feel superior?” “Oh, grow up, NAME, that's why any couple invites anyone over ever!”

90 “I think my soul just threw up a little bit.“

91 “Your heart's talking to you, NAME. Do you have the guts to listen to it?”

92 “I don't care if the dishes aren't done, okay? If you care, you do it.” “Great, then I don't care if you have an orgasm. If you care, you do it.”

93 “Who wants hot-wings?” “I'm in... or maybe we should just pour hot-sauce on NAME, since he's/she’s a total chicken.”

94 “I hate how you're always right.” “It's my best, and most annoying, trait.“

95 “Sex now, we'll do the foreplay after.“

96 “NAME check it! Three blond babies drinking bad-decision-juice at eight o'clock.”

97 “If you keep lying to me, if you keep cutting me out of decisions, if you keep using words like winning and losing when you talk about our marriage, you are going to lose me.”

98 “Why not just say goodbye to the bad things?”

99 “Say goodbye to all the times you felt lost, to all the times it was a no instead of a yes, to all the scrapes and bruises, to all the heartache.”

100 “Where’s the poop, NAME? Where’s the poop?”

Marshall Eriksen

101 “Hey I have given up peeing in the shower for you!”

102 “Why does he/she keep doing this? He meets them. He/She likes them way too much. He/She goes way too big too soon. He/She ends up blowing it. I can't take this any more. He's/She’s fallen in love so many times now.”

103 “Ow! Paper cut ... Death is all around us.”

104 “This is a pie chart describing my favorite bars. And this is a bar graph describing my favorite pies.”

105 “It's a little late but WHAT THE BALLS IS THIS?”

106 “Hey baby, it's me. Can you bail me out of jail? I thought I saw big foot in Central Park so I tackled him. But it turned out to be Russell Brand.”

107 “Being in a relationship is hard. And committing, making sacrifices it's hard. But if it's the right person, it's easy. Looking at that guy/girl, and knowing he’s/she's all you really want out of life, that should be the easiest thing in the world. And if it's not like that then he’s/she's not the one.”

108 “Here's the thing, NAME. I'm snuggly. You're not. Who wouldn't want to snuggle up next to this business on a Sunday morning? Wrapped in comfort and it's raining outside and there's muffins warming in the oven. I'm cuddly bitch. Deal with it.”

109 “He’s:She's never seen Star Wars?! NAME, the only people in the universe who haven't seen Star Wars are the characters in Star Wars. And that's cause they lived them, NAME! That's cause they lived the Star Wars.”

110 “Love died. The love that made you all believe in love, that's dead now.”

111 “I’ve never asked NAME to do anything ‘no questions asked’ because I never wanted to. He’s/She’s the love of my life. I never keep anything from him/her.”

112 “Happy Slapsgiving!”

113 “This is what I miss about being in a couple. I always had someone to go to concerts with, or farmer's market, or brunch. God, I miss brunch!” “Well, I guess you could - well, you could try going to brunch alone.” “Oh, you don't think I've tried?” [FLASHBACK]  “Table for one.” “One... Couple?” “Um, no, just me.” “Really? For brunch?” “You're right. Who am I kidding?” [Leaves restaurant. End of Flashback] “Oh, the Popover Pantry! That place is great. Can we go get brunch tomorrow?” “Of course, sweetie.” “Can I go with you guys?” “Really? For brunch?”

114 “That’s life, you know. We never end up where you thought you wanted to be.”

115 “That cake. Best cake I ever had. Seriously, my stomach was like, ‘Hey bro, I don’t know what you’re eating cause I don’t have any eyes but it’s basically awesome, so keep sending it down Gullet Alley.’”

116 “Revenge fantasies never work out the way you want.”

117 “I’m a good boyfriend/girlfriend in my sleep.”

118 “You have to let me dance my own battles.”

119 “One good deed leads to another and another.”

120 “Look at us, riding around in a limo, eating hot dogs…it’s like we’re the president.”

121 “All hail beercules!”

122 “I don’t know what to do with my hands. What do I normally do with my hands?”

123 “Hey, baby.” “We hate NAME now. Get on board or the sexting stops.” “NAME’s a son of a bitch!”

124 “Are these chicken wings or angel wings? God, I love these things.”

125 “Oh, and you think you can step up to me? To me?!”

[salutmonmec]

EVEN THE DEAD DESERVE A SONG

an Elu Hunger Games AU

ao3 link

Lucas has been in love with the same boy since he was five years old. 

Now, he will be forced to fight him to the death.

What a fucking nightmare.

CHAPTER 1: THINGS FALL APART

… He is underwater.

It’s cold.

He’s sinking.

The surface isn’t far, and he can make out a blurry figure. They lift their arms, draw their elbow back until their hand hits their jaw.

An arrow breaks the surface, clips his ear. A cloud of red erupts on his left side. He can’t swim, never learned how. The elbow draws back again.

He is sinking in a sea of blood.

His mouth opens in a silent scream.

Lucas wakes with a gasp, jerking upright, a hand against his chest where his heart is about to burst from his ribcage. What the hell was that? The bright afternoon sun is beaming down on his nap spot, lighting the grass up to neon green and forcing him to squint. Lucas could not have been asleep for more than a half hour, but the troubling nature of his dream made it feel like years. He stands with a groan, joints popping. He gathers up his make-shift bow and slings the quiver over his shoulder. Only two or three more hours of light left, have to make this quick. A stick breaks about twenty meters to the right, followed by the sound of frantic hooves. Before he can help himself, a smirk splits his face. Perfect.

----

The buck’s head lands on the booth counter with a hollow thud, still bleeding a bit through the new hole in its left eye. Lucas rests his head on his arms, gently poking the soft fur of the beast’s ribcage. The booth’s owner, Ben, slowly gets up from his chair, flashing a wide gap-filled smile. He is on the skinny side, just like everyone else in District 12, cheeks always smudged with some kind of dirt. Right now, his eyes are lit up like torches.

“How the hell did you manage this Lallemant? You are a crazy son of a bitch, I swear.”

Lucas shrugged casually, shooting Ben a grin. “I have my ways.”

“Well bud, I can give you… 26 ration cards, should almost last you the month.” He leans over the buck, bending to Lucas’ eye-level. “The capitol changed the color again, this time a nice, deep, I’m-richer-than-you purple. Go crazy kid.” Lucas reached over and slipped the small mountain of cards into his bag, mouthing Ben a silent thank you and giving him a quick wink.

He turns around, slamming right into the back of an asshole. Yann spins around, ready to curse out the offender, but Lucas gets there first, sticking a middle finger in between his eyes. Yann lets out a loud laugh, shoving Lucas away playfully. “Fuck you, you shithead!”

“Wanna walk me home honey bun?” Lucas wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, making Yann roll his eyes.

“Jesus Christ, I’ll be out in a minute,” he states with a half-hearted wave as he turns back to the person he was haggling with. Lucas grins at him, shouldering open the door to the warehouse. Cool air hits him like a wave, the breeze lifting his hair off his forehead, drying the budding sweat on his skin. Peacekeepers march past him, their white uniforms glowing in the twilight. Who the fuck wears white in a place like this? Lucas looks down at his own clothes, torn and tattered from years of use. No matter how many times he tries to wash them, the black coal dust in the air finds its way into the seams. It’s as if the land wants to brand him, making sure that everyone knows where he comes from. You come from the dark, dank depths of the Earth, where no one ventures besides those who were unfortunate enough to be born into it. Never forget that.

A laugh shakes him out of his thoughts, head snapping up to find the source of the sound. A small head of tawny curls bouncing, a gap-toothed smile on her round, freckled face. Madeline Demaury, sitting on the shoulders of her big brother, laughter bubbling its way out of her mouth as he dramatically pretends to drop her. Eliott spins in a quick circle, his face now fully towards Lucas. God, he is beautiful. His blue-grey eyes are curled up in half-moons, mouth open, catching the tail end of a chuckle. His happiness is contagious, and Lucas finds himself struggling to hold back a smile. The setting sun is lighting up the Demaurys’ hair to an infuriatingly gorgeous shade of auburn. He pushes a flyaway strand of his straight, boring brunette locks away from his eye, cursing his bad genetic luck. At least he was fortunate enough to be alive at this very moment, witnessing the striking beauty of Eliott Demaury’s cheekbones, his long legs, shoulders deceptively broad despite his lanky figure. Fuck, he is beautiful.

“So, are you ever actually going to talk to him, or are you just going to stand there drooling all over yourself for the rest of your life?”

Yann’s strong hand lands on the shoulder that isn’t leaning against the warehouse wall. Lucas doesn’t take his eyes off Eliott. “Fuck you.”

As Yann snickers next to him, Eliott and Madeline sit down on their front porch steps. The front door behind them opens, and out runs seven-year-old Camille, launching herself into the lap of her brother. Eliott scoops her up, whispering in her tiny ear, making her giggle and nod enthusiastically. He sets her down, grabs her hand, leading her and Madeline inside the house. As the door shuts behind them, Lucas’ chest twists with a feeling he can’t place. He slowly turns, shoves Yann playfully. “What the hell are you so cheery about? You know what’s tomorrow right?”

“I for one, am not going to let the threat of imminent death stop me from roasting my best friend. What kind of life would that be?” He says with an easy smile, slinging an arm around Lucas’ shoulders. “Let’s get the fuck out of here before the Keeps’ come back.”

Lucas shoots one last look at the Demaury’s porch. The sun is fully behind the trees now, casting long shadows that flutter across the closed door, which, much to Lucas’ amusement, is painted a bright shade of baby blue. In this light, the house could have been abandoned, the warmth of Eliott’s presence long gone. Turning back towards Yann, his chest twists again, heart rising in his throat, threatening to choke him. Why do I feel like this is the last time I’ll see this?

----

An alarm blares ridiculously too close to his face. Cracking one eye open, he flops his arm across his body, slamming his hand in the direction of the obnoxious dinging. The clock slides off the edge of the table, hitting the floor with a loud thud. Still ringing, of course. Fucking hell. Lucas rolls his half-asleep body into sitting position, squinting at the light breaking through the cracks in his blinds, stopping the alarm with a half-hearted kick.

It’s Reaping Day.

Pushing himself off the tattered mattress, he sees his Reaping shirt, a blue-denim button up that he never really grew into, laid out on the end of the bed. Its folded, freshly washed and pressed. His mom must have been up for a while now. Throwing on a pair of faded black pants, he tugs the shirt on, slowly buttoning the front, shaking his head as the sleeves drop past his wrists. Frustrated, he rolls them up to mid-forearm. As a kid, he always thought his Dad was larger than life. Now at sixteen, he is starting to think he may have actually been right.

Walking to the bedroom door, he stops in front of the broken mirror to its right. Eyes a little too big, hair a little too wild, shoulders a little too slim. He rubs at a small bit of dirt on his neck, spits in his hand and tries to push his hair back into something resembling a normal human. His Dad’s shirt is hanging loosely on his frame, but he doesn’t mind. Everyone wears the wrong size clothes to the Reaping, spending money on extra ration cards rather than fancy shirts that will only be worn seven times in their life.

A rattle in the kitchen grabs his attention. Mama. She is scrubbing aggressively at a pot, the edges clanking against the edges of the small sink. She sees him in her periphery, turns her head and flashes him a warm smile. “You ready to go?”

He purses his lips, shoulders moving in a small shrug, “as ready as I can be, I guess.”

She sets the pot down, walks over to gently press a kiss to his forehead. “Only two more years, then we can move past this whole mess.” Glancing over his face, she wets her thumb and starts rubbing at a spot above his eyebrow. A laugh bubbles its way out his mouth as he scrunches up his face, shaking his head. “Mama, stop its fine,” he shoots a pointed glance at the small television set in the corner, “want me to get it set up for you?”

She waves him off. “Oh no, I got it.” She looks at him with a small, sad smile. “You know I would go, I just think the crowds would be a bit much for me today…” Lucas glances at the dark circles marring the smooth skin under her eyes, and nods. “Are you sure you don’t need anything?”

“I’ll be fine darling,” she kisses him on the forehead for the second time, lips popping with a loud smack. “Say hello to Yann for me!”

Sliding into his shoes, he pushes through the front door, Yann leaning against the railing at the bottom of the steps. His shirt fits him perfectly. Asshole.

“Let’s get this fucking over with, shall we?”

----

A large bead of sweat makes it way slowly down the back of his neck, tickling his skin as it catches in his collar. It’s getting close to midday, the sun huge and deadly in the sky. The stage is in the middle of a giant dirt patch, no tree in sight to provide some semblance of shade. Everyone between the ages of 12 and 18 in the entire district are being herded into the stage space. The fine, dark dirt getting kicked up by hundreds of shoes, swirling in the air like smoke. Yann and him are stuck in the identification line, waiting for a finger prick and a drop of blood to confirm that yes, they are in fact, Lucas Lallemant and Yann Cazas. He is trying to distract himself by staring intensely at a rock on the ground that looks sort of like a fish, when someone trips into him. Not just someone, a big someone. Lucas puts out a hand to steady himself, his other one landing on the waist of the offender before he can stop it.

“SHIT I’m so sorry…” Eliott rushes out, head whipping frantically from side to side, “Camille still needs to learn that running through people’s legs is not proper Reaping Day etiquette.” His blue eyes finally settle on Lucas. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Say something. Anything. Oh God. He nods instead, not trusting his mouth. His left hand is still on Eliott’s waist, but he can’t seem to make it move. Eliott’s gaze is warm, softly flickering back and forth across Lucas’ face. His cheeks betray him then, flushing so intensely it’s almost painful. Eliott’s mouth breaks into a smirk, eyes playful as he gently backs away, turning in the direction of Camille’s giggles. Lucas’ arm settles back down at his side, hand tingling like a live wire. He watches until Eliott’s head disappears into the crowd, trying to settle the rapid beat of his heart.

“Oh wow, are you gonna be okay bud? Do you need me to give you CPR?” Yann snickers, clapping a hand hard in between Lucas’ shoulder blades. His cheeks are even warmer now. “If you don’t talk to him after this is over, then I will.”

His brain finally starts to register his surroundings again, and he turns to give Yann a hard shove, grinning despite himself. “If you go near him, I’ll shoot you in the foot, I swear to God.”

After the quick finger prick and a few more snide comments about his love life, they shuffle their way into the section marked “16”. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the top of a messy head of tawny hair, standing in the middle of the eighteen-year-old section that is marked off closest to the stage. His hand feels like it’s buzzing. Get it together Lucas.

At that moment, the crowd of teens were hushed, and the familiar dramatic tune of the national anthem blaring through the crackling speakers. Footage showing the war plays on the big screen, hard to see in the midst of the blinding sunlight. The president’s booming voice narrates, explaining the origin of the games, why it makes sense that they have been sending twenty-four kids to the fight to the death for twenty-seven years. Yann pokes his side, sending him an eye-roll. Lucas raises his eyebrows, a smirk dancing on his lips.

The film ends, and silence follows. A chair moves on stage, heels click on the hard surface. Hurried clacks echo through the space, and a woman hustles up to the microphone, one hand holding up the massive pile of blonde curls on top of her head. Daphné Lecomte. The Capitol representative for District 12 for the past few years, although she could not be older than twenty-five.

“Jesus, I swear her hair gets bigger every year,” Yann whispers in his ear with a breathy laugh. Lucas coughs to hide a chuckle, garnering looks from a boy and girl standing in front of them. He grins down at the ground while Yann elbows him in the ribs.

“Welcome everyone, to the Reaping for the 27th Annual Hunger Games!” Daphné says enthusiastically, her ridiculous Capitol accent extremely apparent. “As always, we are here to choose the two people who will have the historic honor of representing District 12 in- “ A strong wind gust sweeps up the stage, threatening to topple her hair tower. She steadies herself, tugging down on her neon pink skirt, “ i-in this year’s games!” She claps her hands together in excitement, gesturing over to someone on the side of the stage.

Emma Borgès saunters over to Daphné, clearly already wasted out of her mind. It isn’t even noon yet. She stumbles over her own feet, falling right into Daphné, who tries to gracefully push her upright. Emma gives the crowd a fumbling, slow salute, then takes her place next to the bowl of names at the center of the stage, swaying lightly on her feet.

The only District 12 champion in history. She won when she was just thirteen, outliving everyone thanks to her affinity for climbing trees. The spectators of the 20th games decided the killings weren’t going fast enough, so they flooded the area. Nineteen tributes had already been killed or died from the terrain, the last four drowned in the flood. Little Emma had been high up in a tree at the time, making her one of the youngest victors of all time. She was never really the same after that, spending most of her days getting drunk at the single district bar once she turned eighteen. Now every year, the two unlucky tributes not only have to fight to the death, but also deal with a drunk Emma Borgès as their mentor. What a fucking joke. Yann always had a massive crush on her though. He sneaks a glance over at Yann, who is openly staring at her with a dumb smile on his face. Idiot.

Daphné shuffles her way over to the glass bowl, struggling to drag the microphone with her. She smooths her skirt once more when she is settled. “Alright, let’s begin!”

She peers down into the large glass bowl, filled almost halfway with name cards. Every single person in this room has their name in there at least once. The twelve-year-olds are placed in only one time, and every year older is another slip added. When you are eighteen, your name is in the bowl seven times, making it more likely that an older tribute is picked. This ultimately makes the games more enjoyable for viewers, as a bunch of scared little kids running around would prove to be boring television after a while. You can add your name more times in exchange for ration cards, which is what most families end up doing in District 12. He had heard a rumor that Eliott’s name was in the bowl 32 times, but he hoped desperately that it was exaggerated.

Daphné’s pink-gloved hand reaches in slowly, swirling the cards around, trying to build anticipation. Lucas’ chest tightens, his forehead beading with sweat. Twelve cards with your name on it. That’s it. Only twelve. Daphné finally latches on to one, lifting her hand out of the bowl with a flourish. The crowd unconsciously leans forward, watching with wide eyes as she struggles to open the seal with her gloves on. The card rips open, and she clears her throat, lips approaching the microphone.

He knows before she even gets the words out. Her tongue pushes against her bottom teeth as her mouth opens, forming the beginning of the “L” sound.

Time slows down.

His chest heaves.

This can’t be happening.

He doesn’t even hear her say it, barely registers the echo of the ending syllable. He sees Yann’s shoulders collapse inward with a shuddering breath. His feet move before his mind catches up, walking with slow steps into the aisle leading up to the stage. Two peacekeepers walk up behind him, one placing a hard hand on his shoulder. They push him forward, his body refusing to move at anything above a glacial pace. He shoots a frantic glance back at Yann, who is staring at him with wide eyes, shoulders lifting up and down with the beginnings of hyperventilation. Lucas steels his eyes, desperately hoping Yann can read him. It’s okay... I’ll be okay. Yann nods imperceptibly, only for Lucas. A tiny pang of relief overshadows the crippling panic for a brief second.

His leaden feet move up the stage steps, and he moves to stand beside Daphné. She wraps her arms around him in a light hug, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Lucas! Well, aren’t you a strapping young lad! Now, how old are you sweetie?”

She moves the microphone in front of his face.

He can’t breathe.

He clears his throat.

“Sixteen.”

Sixteen, and I am going to die in a week.

Daphné claps her hands together again, snapping Lucas out of his thoughts. “Let’s give a round of applause for the courageous Lucas! The first District 12 tribute of the 27th Hunger Games!”

No one in the crowd moves a muscle. Dead silence.

“O-Okay then!” She clears her throat. “On to the second tribute!”

As she reaches in the bowl again, Lucas lifts his chin high, surveying the sea of young faces staring back at him. His heart is in his throat. He lands last on a pair of blue-grey eyes, wide and stricken under dark eyebrows, mouth closed in a tight line. Eliott. The realization suddenly dawned on him, there is still one tribute left. Oh God please anyone but him, please… oh God ple-

“Madeline Demaury!”

And God decided to laugh in his face.

There were a few gasps from the crowd. It’s exceedingly rare for a twelve-year-old to get drawn. Even more so a girl. The kids in the “12” section start to murmur to themselves, parting to reveal Madeline, her curls braided away from her face at her temples, showcasing her wide eyes and rosy, freckled cheeks. She straightened her pale green dress as the Peacekeepers appeared on either side to bring her up to the stage, pushing her shoulders back, putting on a brave face. From his spot on stage, he could see that her right shoe was untied. She is so young.

Before she can take her first step, Eliott shoves his way out of his section, landing on his knees in the center aisle, a cloud of dirt huffing into the air as he scrambles to his feet. He moves toward Madeline, but Keepers jump into action, pulling his arms behind his back, keeping him rooted to the spot. Lucas watches, horrified, as Eliott struggles against their grip. He manages to rip one arm free before a third Peacekeeper latches on to him. “Let me go! Get tHE FUCK OFF OF M-” He whips himself around, trying to face the stage despite the vice grip on his wrists. He sends a murderous glare at Daphné.

“I VOLUNTEER!”

“I volunteer as tribute.”

This can’t be happening. Wake up Lucas, WAKE UP. He digs his fingernails into his palms, drawing blood.

He is awake.

This is real.

Daphné is still standing next to the bowl, mouth open in shock. She quickly closes it, and makes a gesture to the Peacekeepers. They release Eliott, pushing him forward, and he falls onto his knees with the force. Madeline cries out, squirming out of the Keeper’s grip on her shoulder, and launches herself into her brother’s arms. Lucas can see Eliott’s lips move at her ear, and she starts sobbing, holding him tighter. The Peacekeepers come up behind her, pulling her out of his arms, dragging her away. Her screams pierce through deafening silence, filling up the space, cutting deep into Lucas’ soul, suffocating him. Eliott gets shakily to his feet, eyes shining, and he walks with long strides up to the stage. He stops next to him. Lucas continues to stare ahead, afraid he wouldn’t be able to handle whatever expression settles on Eliott’s face.

“My goodness! This is so exciting! District 12’s first ever volunteer!” Daphné drags the microphone over to Eliott, holding it up to his lips. “What’s your name handsome?”

“Eliott Demaury.”

“Oh, let me guess, was that your adorable little sister?”

There is a beat of quiet as he swallows, clearly trying to restrain himself from slapping the hair straight off of Daphné’s head. Eliott’s eyes narrow as he leans down.

“Obviously.”

Daphné clears her throat. “W- Well, there you have it!” She squishes her way in between the two boys, grabbing both their hands and lifting them straight into the air, beaming with excitement. “A big cheer for the District 12 tributes of the 27th Hunger Games, Lucas Lallemant and Eliott Demaury!”

Maybe it was the heat that finally caught up to him. Maybe the vice grip around his chest finally cut off his oxygen supply. Maybe his brain short-circuited with the dawning realization that he was now in a fighting death match with who he thought was possibly the love of his life. Whatever it was, Lucas’ body couldn’t take it anymore. His right hand slides out of Daphnés grip as he sways to the left. He hits the ground with a dull thud, vision going black around the edges. The last thing he registers is a head of tawny waves blocking the sun in his vision, the edges of his hair glowing auburn.

God, he is beautiful.

And then, everything is black.

[book-boys-are-my-guilty-pleasure]

Imagine: Pretending to be a man and joining the Night’s Watch, eventually causing Jon Snow to fall for you.

A/N: This was supposed to be an entry for @that-was-not-supposed-to-happen’s Disney challenge, it’s a Game of Thrones and Mulan crossover, however, I was not able to submit it in time because life got in the way, I still wanted to finish and post it though. A lot of this is not going to follow the plot of Game of Thrones, for example I know that Cersei doesn’t have a cousin named William, but I did what I thought would fit the story. Anyways, ENJOY!

Warnings: This is a Game of Thrones imagine so there is some violence!

Y/B/N = Your Boy Name (as in the name you choose to use to disguise yourself)

Another braid, another flower, you sigh as your handmaiden styles your hair, “Please stop moving Lady Y/N.”

“Why is this necessary Mary, I don’t wish to please Lord William or his family, I don’t even wish to get married, so why must I get ready for them,” You groan, you were the fourth child of House Y/L/N, and your elder sisters were both happily married, you however, were not like them. You did not wish to marry a nobleman and live a peaceful life of royalty, you had always wanted to be a warrior like your older brother.

“Your mother and father wish for you to marry Lord William. This will be perfect for you mi’lady, he is the cousin of the Queen, you will live a wonderful life.”

“Father and mother do not want me to marry him to give me a better life Mary,” Mary pins down your last strand of hair, then sits to face you with a confused expression on her face, “They want my younger brother Edward to marry William’s sister, and the only way the Lannisters will agree to that is if I marry William.”

“Mi’lady-”

You turn away from Mary, and look at your reflection in the mirror, “You know that that’s the truth Mary, I’d never pass a perfect bride, or a perfect daughter. I’ve always been the strange one, I’ve always been the daughter they wish they never had, and now’s their chance to send me away. If I were to show who I really am, I wou-I would break my family’s heart.”  

“They love you very much mi’lady.”

“I’m not like my sisters Mary, I’m an imperfect girl, I can’t live a perfect life.”

“Y/N, mother is calling for you, the Lannisters are almost here!” Your sister called as she entered your chambers.

Mary urges you to get up, “We must go Lady Y/N, we do not want to upset your mother.”

Your family stood at the gates of your home, as the Lannisters approached. Your mother frantically looks around to find you, you rush down the stairs, praying to the Seven Gods to protect you from falling in your pathetic dress.

“There you are Y/N! Cover up those scratches on your arms!” You mother scolded, gesturing to the scrapes and scars on your arms from years of fighting, “And stand properly Y/N, you are a lady of the house Y/L/N for heaven’s sake!”

“Yes mother,” You sigh, pulling a shawl over your arms.

The Lannisters finally reach you, and one by one you greet each other. William approaches you and bows, he takes you hand and places a light kiss on it, “Greetings my lady. You look beautiful.”

“Thank you Lord William,” You respond, William is incredibly handsome, and any normal girl would feel insanely giddy if he greeted her in such a way, but you felt nothing.

The next few days go by, and you’re forced to spend time with William. It’s not entirely bad, he’s a very kind man, but you couldn’t be yourself around him. Your brother, Edward, on the other hand was really falling for William’s sister, so everyone was counting on you to impress William.

You were currently practicing your sword skills in the woods by the riverbed, hoping that no one would find you. You hear footsteps approaching you from behind, and in force of habit, you quickly turn on your heel and point you sword out, “Easy there!”

“Lord William! I-I...” You drop your sword, feeling at a loss for words.

“Lady Y/N,” He pauses, trying to collect his thoughts, “I did not expect to see you like this, I-I didn’t realize how...vicious you were.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what to tell you.”

“Well, I guess it’s okay for you play around like this sometimes.”

“Play around?” You asked, feeling slightly upset by his choice of words, “William, I’ve been training since I was a little girl! I’m not playing.”

He chuckles, “Training? What would you need to train for my lady?”

It’s now or never Y/N, just tell him, maybe he’ll understand, you know he likes you! You sigh, “I want to be a warrior William.”

“W-what?” He looks genuinely confused, “You can’t be serious Y/N?”

“I am.”

“LEAVE. I WANT YOU TO LEAVE MY HOME AND NEVER RETURN!” You have never seen your mother so angry. William refused to marry you upon learning how you feel, and the Lannisters decided it would be best to leave. Edward was heartbroken, and the rest of your family refused to even look at you.

“Fine mother, I’ll go,” you spat venomously, “and I swear to you, I will never come back.”

You rush up to your room, and grab your knife. You stare at your tear stained face and slice off a strand of your hair, then another, and another, until all of it is shoulder length. You strip out of your horrendous dress and begin wrapping a long strip of cloth around your chest, hoping to make yourself look as flat as possible. You slip into your brother’s clothing and emotionally blackmail Mary into helping you escape.

You spend the next few days marching north, you finally reach the Wall and within the following week you have taken your vows and become an official member of the Night’s Watch. Your struggle, however, has not ended. Every night you go to bed relieved that no one discovered your secret, and every morning you wake up with the fear that today might be the day they find out.  

You make your way out of the food hall, it was your first official day of training - up until now they were just trying to figure out what you were and were not good at - you were a good fighter, but apparently you weren’t good enough. You see the men gathered outside, you’re a few minutes late and from what you’ve heard, the trainer was not very lenient.

“And you must be Y/B/N, glad to see that you could join us,” He chided.

“I’m sorry,” You look down at your feet, he’s quite attractive...stop it Y/N!

“Since you clearly think you’re too good for this, take a sword and fight with me,” He throws the sword in your direction, and you catch it. The other men stare hungrily, waiting for the fight to begin.

He swings his sword at you and you duck away, you were good, but you’d never gotten into an actual fight like this. You hear a few men laugh, “Get him Snow!”

Snow? As in the Jon Snow, infamous bastard of Lord Eddard Stark? You heard rumors about him joining the watch, but you never thought you’d be fighting against him. He takes your moment of distraction, to punch you and throw you to the ground.

You sit up, coughing as you try to catch your breath, and you wipe a small trickle of blood off the side of your mouth.

“Pathetic,” Jon mutters, before deciding to continue with his usual lesson.

By the end of the day you were sore and completely out of breath, “Alright men, the last task of the day will be climbing. Everyone get your equipment and begin.”

You tilt your head up to see the top of the wall that you’ll be climbing, that thing must be nearly 100 metres high...bloody hell! You take your ice axe and strike the wall, it barely goes in, that would never hold. By the time you finally lodge your axe into the wall, most of the others are already at least 20 feet up. Determined to catch up to the others, you climb up and lodge your axe a bit higher. You’re about 10 feet off the ground when the axe comes loose. Before you know what’s happening, you go tumbling to the ground, you let out a feminine scream and groan when you hit the hard ground. As your vision refocuses, you see Jon standing above you, he gives his hand and the look on his face shows exactly how disappointed he is, “Get up.”

“I-I’m sorry! It slipped and...”

“Enough. You have no hope to become a Ranger, just leave Y/B/N.”

“But-” Before you can finish, Jon has already turned around and is dismissing the others.      

No! No Y/N, you did not come all the way to Castle Black for this, you did not leave your family and future to become a steward! As everyone walks away, you march back towards the wall, take your equipment, and attempt to climb once again.

Night falls, and you are nearly at the top. A couple more feet Y/N, come on! Your body screams from exhaustion, but you continue. Finally, you reach the top. You sit on the edge of the wall and nearly cry from happiness.

The men who work the night shift circle the ground below you, and Jon walks over to speak to one of them.

“Snow!” You shout, “Am I still too pathetic to become a ranger?”

He stares up at you in shock for a moment before his face breaks into a charming smile, causing you to smile cheerfully as well.

“Men!” Jon calls everyone to attention, “A group of Wildlings have crossed over to our lands and are acting as a threat to our people. I will be leading a troop of Rangers to fight.”

You have only been training for a few weeks, and though you have become one of Jon’s favourites, you do not expect to be taken along on this trip, so when your name is called you’re taken aback but overjoyed at the same time.

The fight is in full force when you notice a Wildling sneaking up behind Jon with an axe in his hand. You rush forward and block the blow with your shield a second before it has a chance to hit him. Jon quickly turns towards you and shoots you a grateful look before continuing his fight.

Eventually, the fight ends. Most of the Wildlings are dead, and a few have fled. Jon walks over to you, “Y/B/N, what were you thinking jumping in front of that axe? You are the craziest man I’ve ever met, and for that I owe you my life. From now on, you have my complete trust.”

You smile at him, but your moment of happiness is short-lived, “Y/B/N! Watch out!”

You spin around to see what’s happening, and you’re met with a dagger to your stomach. You cry out in pain, and fall to the ground. With a swift movement of his sword, Jon beheads the man that stabbed you, and he’s instantly by your side, “He’s wounded! Get help! Y/B/N, hold on.”

You are woken up by a dull pain to the side of your stomach, you look around and find yourself in some sort of tent. You see the shadow of two people talking outside, and suddenly Jon walks in. You get up, and your blanket slides off your shoulders, Jon’s eyes go wide, you look down only to realize that you are in nothing but bandages that are tightly wrapped around your chest and torso, showing off every curve of your body.

“Jon, please! I can explain!” He looks away in disgust.

Peter, a man who’s hated you from the moment you joined the Watch, bursts into the tent, “So it’s true!”

He pushes past Jon and takes your arm, roughly dragging you out of the tent, he throws you to the ground as the rest of the men surround you, “I knew there something wrong with you! A woman!”

“My name is Y/N!”

He scoffs, “A woman in the Night’s Watch! This is treason! You’ll surely take care of this, will you not Snow?”

Jon looks down at you in disappointment, he sighs and takes his sword out. You look away, at least you get to die as yourself Y/N. He draws his sword back and drops it by your knees. You look up at him in confusion, “A life for a life. Now my debt has been paid.”

He turns away from you, “Jon...”

“Move out men!” He calls before mounting his horse.

You watch as the men recede in the distance.

“What did you expect?” You ask yourself out loud, “They’d see that you could fight, and take you in with open arms? Jon was right... I’m pathetic.”

You make your way back to the wall as it was your only way back home, when you hear two men approaching, “If they only knew, that was just the smoke before the real fire starts up. Those bloody fools will never know what hit them. We distracted the Night’s Watch long enough to get our people into the surrounding villages, their land will be ours in no time!”

You stand in shock, this was a part of their plan! I have to warn the Watch! When you finally approach Castle Black, you are met with disapproving stares and whispers. You walk up to a close friend of yours but even he turns away, “Matthew please, I must speak with the commander, it’s urgent!”

“It’s best if you turn back, you are no longer welcome here,” He says, the betrayal he’s feeling is evident on his face.

“Please, just...just listen to me. Once. Matthew, I’ve been living here for weeks, you’ve become one of my closest friends, have I ever done anything to hurt you?” He stares at you in silence, “Just hear me out.”

“Fine, but this will be the last time.”

“The Wildlings have planned to raid our villages, the fight that took place earlier was only a distraction. I’m going to help, if you believe, then please, send help,” With that, you mount your horse and head off towards the nearest village.

As you approach the village, you see a man holding an axe to a young boy’s throat. You slyly approach him, and point your sword towards his back, “Drop your weapon or my sword will go right through you.”

He laughs, “You don’t want to fight me girl, stand down.”

“I said, let the boy go,” You hiss venomously.

“And I said no,” With one swift motion, you push your sword through the man’s back, he cries out and falls to his knees, “You filthy bitch!”

Ignoring his final words, you crouch down next to the fearful boy, “I won’t let them hurt you. I promise.”

“And we’re not going to let anyone hurt you either Y/N,” You turn your head to see Jon approaching on his horse, followed by Matthew and other men of the Watch.

“Jon, you came!” You smile.

He walks up to you and places his hand on your shoulder, “I was wrong to judge you Y/N. You are very brave for a woman.”

“Thank you,” You blush.

After you final fight in the village a year ago, you were sent back to your family. After hearing of your bravery, your eldest brother had decided to take you in, you trained and fought alongside him, and no one pressured you to marry anymore.

You woke up one morning and heard a familiar voice as you passed by the balcony. You looked down and so none other than Jon Snow talking to your brother. Blush crept up your neck as you ran down the staircase to greet him.

“Jon!” Jon and your brother turned to you with smiles, “What are you doing here.”

“As you probably heard, my father and brother, have been killed, I left the Watch and reclaimed Winterfell.”

“My brother has told me about how you bravely defeated Ramsay Bolton and his army, I meant, what are you doing here?” You ask, gesturing around yourself.

“I think it would be best if I told you Y/N,” Your brother answers, “Lord Snow has come here to ask for your hand in marriage.”

You blush harder and look down, Jon adds, “But your brother was telling me that you were not interested in marrying anyone.”

“I never said that!” You say defensively, “I just wanted to wait for the right man.”

Your brother chuckles, “So, are you saying that you would like to marry Lord Snow?”

“I-um-yes,” Despite the cool air around you, your face burns furiously. Your brother mutters something about how your mother would never believe the news, and rushes off, leaving you alone with Jon.

“It’s really nice to finally see you again Lady Y/N.”

“You as well Lord Snow.”

End.

Masterlist // Rules List // To-Do List

[words-writ-in-starlight]

The Great Animorphs Reread, Part 8

Book 8: The Alien

AKA “Ax is not to be trusted in public, the PTSD squad learn how Andalites eat, and we meet Alloran-Semitur-Corrass”

We’ll get the lighthearted stuff out of the way first: Ax in his human morph is a delight, oh my God, it’s so funny.  Someone help them, they are trying to manage this shit ALL THE TIME, it’s such a good thing they never teach Ax to drive or they’d never keep him out of the mall.  I didn't talk much in the fifth book about Ax in human morph because...well, beyond the fact that overall that's a pretty grim book (goddamn ants, goddamn Visser One), I was just having a shitty day when I wrote the recap.  I was cranky.  So now we're talking about Ax's human morph and how much I love it and how, even though cinnamon bunzuh aren't really my particular thing (they're SO MUCH FOOD, I can't finish a whole cinnamon bun), I get really excited whenever I see a Cinnabon. Because I am a seven-year-old and still low-key convinced that humanity's great gifts to the galaxy will be the cinnamon bun and the M&M.  Like.  Just saying. Also, it's hilarious to me that it apparently never occurs to Marco's dad—having raised Marco, of all people—that 'No' might be fucking with him.

Relatedly, these books are so serious, so heavy, but they’re never grimdark the way, say, the Dark Knight or (hissing) Supernatural are.  They have these moments where it’s like Yes, these are children, so they are going to act like GODDAMN CHILDREN and smuggle their new alien buddy into a movie because that’s what they’re going to do. And I love it, I live for these moments where the Animorphs get to be kids, where they get to complain about the fact that Ax tried to eat cigarette butts rather than about the fact that they almost die on a regular basis.  Jake even calls it out explicitly, says that they almost died against the Visser's Veleek (and yes, I will eventually do a recap of the Megamorphs, and probably the various Chronicles) and they deserve a damn break.  YOU ARE CORRECT, JAKE, perhaps you should do a movie night?  I'm committed to the movie night thing.  Like.  They do a movie night.  When Cassie's parents are out or something.  Otherwise I can't live with this.

My third and final light-hearted note: the dinner with Cassie’s parents. Like.  Oh God.  RIP Cassie’s parents’ respect for Jake.  I mean, on the one hand, hard same, speaking as someone who believes that hot sauce is a blessing to us all, I too would probably blow through three bowls of Cassie’s dad’s chili with total enthusiasm.  But on the other hand…like…can you imagine the conversation between Cassie and Jake where she goes, “hey, heads up, next time you see my parents you might be expected to eat a whole bunch of five-alarm chili” while Jake, who I imagine does not so much live for spicy food, winces in advance. Also, I’m convinced that the reason Cassie’s parents are convinced by Ax’s shaky Jake impression is because Jake is usually so stressed about being around his girlfriend’s parents that he doesn’t even speak.  They have no comparison point whatsoever.

Well.  Now that we've done the fun stuff.  This book is very depressing.  Because, first of all, AX GODDAMNIT I LOVE YOU BUT WHAT ARE YOU DOING.  And yeah, yeah, the Prime Directive, less-evolved species, blah-blah-blah, but THIS IS A WAR.  Like, I love him, he is my blue alien son, but he also needs to pick a goddamn side.  Through the whole course of this book, when you really get a look at his thought processes and the sheer amount that he's hiding from them and the way that he almost...disregards the lives of the Controllers who will die as the price of 'striking a great blow against the Yeerks', I really want to smack him.  

Now that I’ve gotten THAT off my chest, let me clarify again that I would die for Ax in a heartbeat.  Like, he is a small baby alien who’s lightyears away from his home and his family and his entire life and like I just want to hug him and let him talk sadly about his moons and his brother and his family. But also.  See above.  And then of course this is the book where he DOES pick a goddamn side and that's even MORE distressing because Andalites are dicks and basically excommunicate him for fighting to save Earth.  This poor kid.  I don't think Andalites hug, do we ever cover that?  Regardless, this kid needs a hug.  Maybe the lot of them can cuddle at that movie night.  I am 100% sure that Jake gives great hugs.  And Cassie can probably cuddle like a motherfucker.

Ax tells the Andalites that it was him and not Elfangor who shared the morphing tech because he can’t stand the thought of Elfangor’s name being disgraced. If you, dear reader, want a quick peek into my reaction every time I read that part, picture a dark-haired woman clutching her phone to her chest and going Nooooo my blue boy my poor loyal baby you’re too good for them. In other news, I am a shell of a person.

Sooooo. Alloran-Semitur-Corrass, War Prince of the Andalite fleet and unwilling host of Visser Three.   This is where we first meet Alloran, and it is terrible. Like, yes, I get it, Alloran was high-key a war criminal before the whole...possessed by the battle-leader of the Worst Aliens Ever™ thing, but then again none of the Andalites are exactly clean-of-hand in this whole thing, and Alloran at least acted with good intentions—although, good intentions, road to hell, et cetera.  (Oh also buckle up for when I talk about the goddamn Hork-Bajir and spend, like, All My Time kicking Alloran around like a soccer ball). And being infested by a Yeerk is a punishment worse than death as it is, never mind being infested by a Yeerk who habitually gloats about killing and infesting your whole planet by using you as a weapon.  Like, no one deserves that.  No matter what he’s done.  Alloran is such a damn tragedy.  It always kind of breaks my heart that he asks Aximili to kill him (speaking of LOOK AT YOUR LIFE moments for Ax, because...like...I get why he doesn't, but it would be a mercy to kill Alloran, and Ax's whole voiced logic is 'but you're an Andalite' and that's...not the issue here, kid, although to be fair Ax is alone on Earth and Alloran is the only other one of his kind, I’m so sad). And it always REALLY breaks my heart when Alloran tries to bring his tail blade to his throat and he's too weak to manage it.  So, basically, TL;DR: I am perpetually fucking distraught about Alloran-Semitur-Corrass.

Fuck the Andalite home world.  All of them are dumbasses.  That's all I have to say.

Seerow's Kindness.  So, the law of Seerow’s Kindness is the Prime Directive, its text goes something like “thou shalt not share technology with [insert culture here]”.  The Prime Directive focuses on noninterference generally, whereas Seerow’s Kindness is about technology, but that’s just semantics.  The critical difference here is in how the culture views breaches of the edict.  The Prime Directive is treated more like a suggestion, to the effect of “hey, maybe don’t hand a warp core to a species that’s still figuring out the internal combustion engine or that shows some megalomaniacal tendencies.”  EVERY Fleet captain breaks the Prime Directive at least once, and many of them more than once, when it seems necessary to save lives—as long as a case can be made for their actions being intended to help people, Starfleet tends to let it slide.  On the other hand, you break Seerow’s Kindness?  You get fucking excommunicated, and the Andalites have used it as an excuse to be totally hands off the galaxy.  And I get it, the logic behind both of them is pretty sound and based around situations exactly like the Yeerks.  But…look.  Out of all the species in the universe, none of them are without violence and war—even the Pemalites doubtlessly had a messy history before they evolved past it. Seerow just had the tremendous misfortune and ill-thinking to offer his great kindness to parasites—not symbiotes, parasites.  The host gets little to nothing out of being infested.  And those are the creatures that Seerow just…handed faster-than-light travel.  My point is a lot like Marco’s, in the end.  It’s a failing of the Yeerks that they’re inclined toward empire, not of the generosity that Seerow offered them.  “Your boy Seerow wasn’t wrong.  He just helped out the wrong species.”

Finally: fuck the whole bullshit superiority trip that this whole race is on. My precious blue boy Ax too.  He kind of gets it beaten out of him by prolonged exposure to a bunch of angry young human soldiers, but the other Andalites are just.  A bunch of dicks.  They believe that they’re the commanding center of the universe, that of course they have to keep their technology out of the hands of other races too primitive and foolish to handle it. There is a level of astounding narcissism inherent in the belief that they are singularly responsible for the Yeerk threat.  Are they responsible for Yeerks spreading like a virus through the galaxy?  Um, yes. Are they so universally powerful that it’s their responsibility to protect the galaxy from itself, and their right to judge who lives and who dies for the greater good?  Um, no they are not. And that’s the thing.  The Andalites, when informed that the Yeerks are on Earth and threatening an unprepared population, throw humanity to the teeth of the Yeerk Empire as a stopgap, because they are so married to their grand plan and their law of Seerow’s Kindess.  So just fuck that arrogance straight to hell.

OKAY BUT ON A STILL-EMOTIONALLY-RUINOUS BUT SOMEWHAT LIGHTER NOTE, that last call between Ax and the Andalite homeworld is so fucking upsetting, oh my God, bury me. He tells Head Councillor Lirem about Alloran’s message to his family (wreck me) and he talks about how the Hork-Bajir might have been saved if the Andalite forces (including Lirem) had fought for them, and honestly kind of gives him a very stiff and polite dressing down (MY SON I AM SO PROUD). And Lirem goes <You’re just like your brother> and of course Ax is very proud of that and anyway, I’m dead, just put me off to the side where I won’t get in the way.