#to have their big break (and of course win the affection of their mentor and crush Big Daddy Longlegs)

[liesonthefloordramatically]

Obligatory roundup of tabletop characters I played this year:

Vyv (they/them), a cleric of The Twins in yumgeon (a homebrew Dungeon Meshi-inspired campaign)

Amber (she/her), The Old Soul in a game of Wickedness

Endurance Perez (she/her), a Teamster pilot in Mothership

Not pictured:

Poggs "The Slammer" Mulroney (they/them) in Doing the Job

(Links to icon makers: one, two, and three.)

[lov3nerdstuff]

Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 7.36}

*Severus Snape x OC*

Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.

General warnings: professor x student, blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 3.4k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

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"And that is?" Robin raised her eyebrows at him in question and curiosity alike, immediately catching onto the spark of hope that came with the prospect of an advantage indeed.

"Me." He replied as simply as that, with an entirely, if not too straight face, and Robin couldn't help her snort in return

"How very humble of you…" She said smoothly, but with a smirk on her lips nonetheless. He was right though, they did stand two against one after all, and they always would. The thought, as always, served to calm Robin more than any piece of saving history or weapon could.

"I am entirely serious about it." Snape added however when Robin's humoured expression didn't cease even after a few seconds, and thus her smile vanished to make way for her utmost attention to his words again. "Since there have always been mutual affections between the Morgan and the Bennett heir up to this point, as well as going by the few accounts of various incarnations of the prophecy, it is safe to say that there has never before been such a disturbance. Both heirs have as of yet always opposed each other alone, because neither was free in their choice to seek out a different partner."

"And you think that whatever anomaly it was that made me not have any curse-inflicted positive or negative emotions for Morgan is the reason why the prophecy will end differently this time?"

"I believe you are the best chance to end the prophecy once and for all that the Bennett line has had in over five hundred years." He replied in open sincerity, and Robin's heart skipped a beat before it was captured by both hope and adoration. "And I can state the facts as they are: I was never meant to be part of this prophecy, nor am I part of it now. I am the anomaly in this scenario, and as we both know, anomalies tend to lead to a different outcome than the predicted one, even in any controlled environment."

"Did you just use potions logic to explain why we will win against Morgan?" Robin couldn't help the affectionate smile that took over her features once more; phrased like he had just now, it really did sound like she had a chance. She couldn't put into words how much she loved him for always cheering her up. For giving her hope, and every strength she could possibly need.

"It appears so." He mused in return, quirking an eyebrow up along with his words as he studied Robin in the flickering light of the flames. "Yet the fortunate preconditions will not change one of the core problems of the entire prophecy: in order for you to live, we will have to kill Morgan instead."

Robin's heart fell in an instant, as did her smile, and even her stomach picked up the all too familiar churning once again. For a few seconds she avoided Snape's eyes by staring into the flames, before at last her gaze returned to him in all the unfathomable sadness it brought along. "I can't kill him, Sev. I had every possibility and reason to today, and yet I… I can't."

"I know. And we will see to it that you won't have to." He replied quietly, then seemed to be lost in his own thoughts for a moment until he spoke on. "Though I admit I do not entirely understand how the prophecy treats the subject. From what I understand, Morgan will have to die at your hand and only yours, even though or especially because I am not part of the prophecy. Otherwise I would gladly have volunteered to end him myself in this very instant."

A huff, both bitterly humoured and indignant, escaped Robin's lips, and she found herself rolling her eyes at this stupid prophecy. Of course it had to be her… everything else just would've been too easy, wouldn't it? But then again… "I wouldn't have wanted you to do it either way." She said. "I will gladly spare your soul that torture at any cost."

"Morgan's death is inevitable if we want to keep you alive, you know that."

"Nothing is truly inevitable. It can't be." Robin shrugged with another sigh, then finally gathered her wits to speak up about another thought that had fostered in her mind ever since this afternoon. "You know, I looked at him while he was at my mercy today, and I realized something that only now makes sense to me. At last."

"Enlighten me."

"Do you remember what my boggart turned into, in my third year?"

"How could I forget… It was a deeply concerning and unsettling occurrence." Snape scoffed, but then sighed and motioned for her to continue.

"I think it was the prophecy that made the boggart change into that dark version of myself which we both saw. And it's also what turned my nightmares in my fourth year into such a horror show. Remember Morgan's words, at the ball: he sees in me the hollow darkness of inevitable death." Robin took a deep breath, then finally got to the point. "The boggart and my nightmares showed me precisely what will become of me if I kill Morgan like I am obviously meant to. It was my destiny in the prophecy that the boggart and the curse found in my being, not my deepest fear. Even though it might as well be one and the same thing at this point."

"That-..." Was his only reply for a few long seconds, until surprise was followed up by understanding in his expression. "I believe you might just be right about that."

"I don't want to become that thing we saw back then, Sev." Her voice took on an almost pleading tone, low and far too breathy for Robin's liking, but it was the price for keeping it from breaking entirely. "But I would, if I kill Morgan. Perhaps it's part of the curse… or perhaps it's just my own stupid weakness. But we both have seen what will become of me, and I don't want to be that person. I can't be. I can't kill him."

"Then we will find another way to end the prophecy. Without anyone dying."

"What other way could there possibly be? You said Morgan's death at my hands is inevitable, it's always gonna be either him or I. No third option. I kill him, or I die."

"Just as you said before, nothing is truly inevitable." He returned, as calmly serious as ever. "While I would not hesitate to end Morgan in a blink, I will also not hesitate to spare you from doing so yourself. We will find a different way, because we always do. Because we have to."

"Alright." And again, as always, Robin couldn't help believing him in the end. A half smile tugged on her lips as she looked up at him once again, in the knowledge that they would be alright somehow. "We will find a way, before it's too late."

"That we will." He sighed under his breath, then placed a gentle kiss on her forehead and yet held onto her a little more tightly in return. They weren't optimists, no… but they had as of yet gotten out of even more impossible situations than this, every single time.

Robin's smile brightened ineffably as she allowed herself to be tugged closer against his chest, his head coming to rest on top of her own, and for a moment they simply enjoyed the silence of the night. It was terribly late, and there was no doubt that they both were beyond exhausted. Perhaps detention and almost dying weren't quite comparable in what they did to one's body and mind, but it was safe to say that this day ought to come to an end for both of them nevertheless. It had been too much… Hogsmeade, the room of hidden things, Morgan's office, dinner, their office, Morgan's rooms, the astronomy tower, and finally the entire struggle with the prophecy right here and now. Good gods, Robin's head felt like bursting with all the things she had just learned. They had uncovered so many horrible truths today… but they finally had gotten a step further in understanding the big picture. A step further to bringing it all to an end.

"Is there any more we can do now?" She asked after a while. "I feel like we forgot something crucial, but I can't grasp what that might be."

"We should rest, for now. Everything else can wait until tomorrow."

"Are you sure?"

"As sure as I can be." He replied with a subtle sigh, and finally pulled away just enough to look at Robin once more. "Perhaps we should see the bright side of things, too, for once."

"And that would be?"

"I can keep you here with me all night without any remorse."

A loud snort escaped Robin as they both got up from the ground to get ready for bed at last, and she couldn't help the smirk that just then tugged at her lips. "As if you've ever felt any ounce of guilt over that before…"

"Officially, I have."

"Officially, I shouldn't even be here in the first place for you to feel guilty over."

"Good thing we make our own rules then."

"Indeed."

… … …

Falling asleep that night, surprisingly, turned out to be less troublesome than Robin had anticipated. Once they both were curled up under the soft covers, wrapped tightly into each other's arms in the fierce comfort of utmost protectiveness, they were both out like a light within seconds. While it still hadn't been often that they'd gotten to spend the night like this, it currently was the reassurance of each other's presence that made it possible to find sleep in the first place, and while Robin would've found more excitement in it under different circumstances, it was the calmness that gifted her a dreamless sleep for what was left of the night to rest.

The morning, however, was everything but calm in return. It was Sunday, sure, but when they woke up five minutes after breakfast had started, the world came crashing down on them rather abruptly. In all due haste, it took them only a few minutes to get ready and hide the box of parchments in one of the shelves before they quickly made their way towards the great hall. Together, for once, since Snape had absolutely refused to let Robin wander through the empty hallways alone, and Robin had given up her protests before she had even gotten properly started. When Snape had set his mind to something, there was little to nothing she could do about it. And honestly, she found herself rather glad about that.

As always, they did go separate ways once they reached the doors to the great hall though, and Robin didn't hesitate to make her way inside and towards the Slytherin table already, while trying to catch her breath after almost having to run to keep up with Snape. At some point, when there wasn't such a pressing reason to hurry, she would have to remind him that his legs were about double as long as hers, which made it nigh impossible to keep up sometimes. Or at least it felt like that; she would have to remember to bring it up at some point. Unfortunately, it was only when Robin spotted Gideon and Michael that she remembered something else, namely the thing she had forgotten about last night. Their challenge, which really hadn't been one in the first place. Oh bloody hell… she had forgotten to take a proper look into her memories to check the stupid order of the stupid items on Morgan's stupid desk. But seriously, there had been so much more urgent matters at hand! Bloody fucking hell though, for she still couldn't tell them that. She still had to put on a smile and joke as if there wasn't some ridiculous life changing prophecy at work. Great.

"Got up on the wrong foot, eh?" Gideon greeted her with a smirk right when Robin reached their little group in the middle of the long table. "You look like someone's turned your shower cold while you were still under it."

"Something like that, yeah." She sighed in return, then dropped down into the seat between Jorien and Simon that had been saved for her. "Anyway, good morning to you, too."

Granted, her friends did try to cheer her up during breakfast, and Robin found herself sighing inwardly more than once while she put on a fake smile and, sometimes, could even muster up a real one. Her occasional glances towards the head table were kindly ignored like always, her 'hmm's for an answer as well, and at last she almost believed that the boys had forgotten about the challenge for good when after twenty minutes still nobody had asked about it. But of course, fate or whatever entity was currently messing with her wasn't as kind as to let her off the hook that easily.

"So, when are we finally going to talk about yesterday's evening activities?" Cas asked with a beaming and giddy smile that made Robin want to strangle her in an instant. Honestly, she loved Cas, but the girl had the most awful timing known to human history.

"Oh yes, right!" Gideon jumped right onto the train of thought, and even dropped his toast while his gaze flew over to Robin. "Where's that proof you promised, huh?"

Under different circumstances, Robin would've straight up snarled at the boy's smug expression and quieted his every inquiry with a single glare. But she had more or less promised them proof, and she had most definitely promised herself to keep her friends out of this mess. So she had to live with the consequences now, even if they majorly annoyed her. Sighing inwardly, she tried to recall the details about Morgan's desk, what it had looked like, what items he kept on there… Perhaps a rough description would have to do. Or, perhaps indeed, it would only take one single detail, a detail that almost nobody could know of. Well, unless they had carefully searched through his desk like she had, of course. Yes, that certainly would do to serve as proof for the boys! Why on earth hadn't she thought of that before?! With a mostly feigned mischievous smile, Robin leaned onto her lower arms and over the table, closer to Gideon and Michael. Unsurprisingly, every single one of her friends followed suit and leaned in closer to her as well. The fact that they were already so used to her antics rendered her smile a little more real, and a little less bitter.

"Alright, but don't judge me before you've checked the facts yourself." She started, once she was sure that all five of her friends were listening. Even Jorien and Simon, who had shown absolutely no interest in the entire endeavour last night, were intently paying attention now. "In the locked drawer in his desk, Morgan keeps a book on beautifying spells 'for the modern gentleman'."

It took a second, but then Michael and Gideon burst into laughter, while Simon and the girls simply gaped at Robin as if she'd told them that a spaceship had crashed in Hogsmeade. Admittedly, both reactions amused Robin quite a bit in return, which served as a most welcome distraction from the morning's hasty gloom. The book had indeed been an amusing discovery, now that she thought of it. One that she had previously simply ignored in order to focus on the greater good, the bigger plan, the more important matters. Well, perhaps it did her some good now to remember that there were other things in life than the big problems. That Morgan was also just a human being, with flaws and secrets and weird mannerisms. It certainly made breathing a little easier for now.

"That is absolutely hilarious." Gideon snorted a moment later, after he had finally managed to catch his breath. "I honestly hope it's true."

"Of course it's true!" Cas snapped back at him, even though the fact still seemed to irritate her at the same time. "Robin doesn't lie…"

"Thank you." Robin gave the girl a half smile and a nod, then turned back towards the boys across from her. "I consider this inane challenge completed now, but you are of course free to verify my claim."

"I believe you." Michael shrugged with another humoured huff. "Would explain why the guy's always so…"

"Pretty?" Gideon suggested with raised eyebrows, and Michael nodded in agreement. "Pretty is a good way to describe it."

"Petty would be even more like it." Robin sighed under her breath, but her own thought made her snort a second later nonetheless. Arrogance wouldn't help her, but if she was stuck in a limbo between confidence and fear already, she might as well enjoy the highs for now before the lows came back to haunt her.

"Speaking of petty, you won't believe what that pillock Justin did last night!" Gideon said, and Michael just groaned in return before shoving his friend and rolling his eyes.

"Who the frick is Justin?" Jorien asked with an indignant frown in return, which almost made Robin snort again, for the girl, as so often, displayed a copycat version of Robin's own thoughts.

"Some guy in their house." Cas answered with a roll of her eyes, but more at the subject than because of her friend's question. "He should be in Robin's year, actually, but knowing her, she probably has no idea who he is either."

"Caught me. I still don't care about the people in my year." Robin shrugged with one shoulder and kept her eyes on her toast, but she didn't cease to listen curiously to the elaborations around her at the same time.

"Anyway, Justin was helping us with our charms essays last night. Or rather, he was supposed to help us, but ended up being a stupid pillock about it." Gideon went on to explain.

"Yeah, he is really good at charms." Michael continued in a sigh where Gideon had stopped. "But he didn't even try to help us! Properly, I mean. He could've just answered our bloody questions, or pointed us to books that would have helped, but no, he had to make it all even more difficult by giving us even more questions! Questions and problems and… ugh! He honestly just made it more difficult for us to get the bloody essay done."

"I bet he didn't even want to help us." Gideon made a face, and Micheal nodded once again in agreement. "He probably just wanted to make himself look clever in front of the girls in the common room. Honestly, next time we'll just do it by ourselves."

"Or ask Robin."

"Right."

Robin nodded; of course she would help them with their stupid essays if they asked, she always did, but that was entirely besides the point right now. Her thoughts were already drifting off into another direction entirely, to something they hadn't even said, and that yet their rambling had triggered in Robin's mind. A thought, an idea… a perspective! A rush of adrenaline started burning down her veins, and her eyes just as her thoughts inevitably moved away from her breakfast and her friends, towards the head table, then towards Snape. It took but a few more seconds for his eyes to meet hers, and another for his mind to reach out to her.

'That look on your face is not about the dunderhead gang, is it?' He asked, straight to the point, which Robin was as always grateful for.

'No. We need to talk. With words. Now.' Her reply was a mere staccato, phrased like that in order for her request to even come out clear over the mess her thoughts had become once more. Going by the look on his face, he had understood her nonetheless.

'Astronomy tower. In five minutes.'

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[jimlingss]

Moirai [5]

Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6

➜ Words: 5k

➜ Genres: 60% Fluff, 40% Angst, Isekai!AU

➜ Summary: Death is supposed to be the end. Or at least that's what you assumed when you're hit by a TRUCK. But the moment you open your eyes again, instead of being sent to the afterlife, you've become a baby. And not just any baby. You're the female villain of a video game.

“Thank you for inviting me, Lady Anastasia.”   Lucienne sits across the rounded table from you, oblivious to the blossom petals that have drifted down and tangled itself into her hair. The tea party invitation rests beside her teacup, neat and crisp like she held and opened it with the utmost care.    “Yes, thank you.” The other lady beside her pipes up. “It’s an absolute honour.”   “The Royal gardens are lovely this season,” another adds. “I’m glad I can enjoy it like this.”   “It’s not a problem, everyone.” A friendly smile stretches across your face. “It can get quite lonely being the only lady in the castle, so your company is welcome.”   More like Lady Devon and your other tutors was pretty damn insistent that you build a good reputation and inner circle, but whatever. What they don’t know, won’t hurt them.   But you do remember that in the original game, Anastasia used this opportunity to shame the heroine. She invited her to a tea party and made snide remarks about how she danced with the Prince. Of course it seems petty now but it’s understandable that Anastasia resented the heroine so much. Even if she didn’t intend it, she humiliated Anastasia by stealing her fiancé.   And the fact of the matter is that you’ll also become the laughingstock for what she’ll do.   “If I may ask, have you started the wedding arrangements yet, Lady Anastasia?”   You nearly choke on your tea, sputtering for a moment until you’re able to set the cup down on the saucer and cough into your napkin. The ladies around the table appear concerned, but you plaster on another smile. “Well, there’s been no discussion yet. The Royal family and the Devereux house are in no rush. There’s still quite a bit of time, so who knows what could happen.”   “What could happen?” One of them catches on quick and you cordially nod.   “The engagement was made when both Prince Jungkook and I were very young, but now that we are older, we can voice our own opinions on the matter.” You choose your words carefully and your smile widens. “I am not opposed if changes are made. If the leaders of the empire cannot exercise their own freedoms, then how can the people?”    They nod in agreeance, a few in awe at your deep thought process. “That is very mature of you, Lady Anastasia.”   You laugh stiffly and lift your tea cup for another sip.   “Oh, but the Crown Prince is so wonderful.”   You choke. Again. You wonder if you’re going to die at this tea party from the warm liquid constantly going down the wrong pipe.    “I am sure he wouldn’t change his mind with how lovely you are, Lady Anastasia.” The girl beside you smiles, laying it on thick to win your favour. “You two are a very fitting couple.”   “I agree.” Lucy smiles softly. “Prince Jungkook is very courteous.”   “And very majestic.”   You remember when you dueled with Jungkook, he lost within a minute. He threw a tantrum in the following days and gave you the silent treatment. Or that time you went horseback riding, you decided to race each other and he fell off his own horse into mud and started crying.   Uh-huh. Majestic indeed.   You chalk up your wheeze to nothing and dab the corner of your mouth with the tablecloth napkin. “Yes, well, Jungkook will make a fine King someday.”   “And you’ll make a fine Queen,” a soft-spoken voice pipes up and your eyes connect to Lucy’s. Unlike the others surrounding you, you know her words are genuinely spoken and you shift uncomfortably in your seat.   “I’m not so sure about that,” you honestly admit as you fidget with the edge of the porcelain saucer. “A queen must be kind and generous and know the suffering of the people. I’m afraid I have a lot left to learn.”   Your gaze meets Lucy’s again.   Her smile is all too gentle for high society and its naturally cunning, heartless nature. She’s awfully naive, but that aside, you know her benevolence will make her beloved in the empire.   //   Once the tea party is over, you’re able to breathe a sigh of relief. Christ, thank god that’s over.   You escort most of the ladies towards their carriages, bidding them goodbye with polite waves as the palace servants clear the dishes, chairs and table away from the garden. And you turn around to head back to your room to sneak in a break, but your name is frantically called—   “Lady Anastasia!”   You turn and a girl in her purple, simple gown comes barrelling down the open hall. Her chest rises and falls, completely out of breath even when she only ran two meters. It makes you laugh unabashedly. “Is everything okay? You don’t need to run.”   She hunches over, lungs probably burning, but she fixes her posture a moment later. “S-Sorry, my lady.”   “Anastasia is fine.”   Lucy nods. “I...just wanted to thank you again. I was very excited when I received your invitation. It’s an honour….Anastasia.”   “There’s no reason to thank me so much.” You walk alongside her. Your hat with pinned pink peonies, matching your gown, shields the sun away from your face.   “It’s just that I don’t get invited to these sort of events often considering….considering I’m just a baron’s daughter and adopted one at that.”   She doesn’t need to tell you — you know her backstory well. You’ve played through it from her perspective. Her father abandoned her mother who died of illness when she was five and she was picked up on the streets by the sympathetic baron. It seems like every character in this game has some tragic backstory. They are defining moments that make that person.   But you suppose life itself is like that.   “Can I give you some advice, Lucy?” you ask after a quiet moment and she nods. You stop walking and the girl halts beside you. “Your humility makes you likeable, but be careful not to self-deprecate yourself. Your worth is more than what you consider yourself to have.”   Her eyes widen and you add, “Plus, it’s not good to thank a host more than once like they’ve done you a big favour because they’ll start to think you owe them for it.”   Lucy nods and you smile, resuming your stroll. “I’ll be inviting you to more tea parties in the future.”   “Thank—” She catches herself. “Yes, I will be looking forward to that.”   A grin spreads into your cheeks. “On a different note, I never got to ask you how your dance was with Jungkook at the debutante ball.”   “Oh, yes, the Prince was very kind. But I’m sorry if it was inappropriate, I know he’s your fiancé—”   This time, your laugh is unrestrained. She looks up at you in surprise. “Do you think I’m getting jealous?” Lucy opens her mouth and then closes it, not sure what to say and you bat the air with your hand. “Jungkook is like a little brother to me.”   If she was surprised before, now she looks entirely off guard. “It thought the Prince and you were the same age.”   You laugh stiffly. “Yes, we are, but I guess that’s what childhood friends are like.”   “Oh, I’ve never had a childhood friend.”   “Have you ever had a friend?” Your eyes meet her’s and you smile. “Because I’d be happy to be your first.”   The conversation soon ends and as Lucy walks away, you breathe another sigh of relief and pat yourself on the back at the positive interaction. Even if she’s just a countryside girl, it’s nerve-racking when you’re supposed to be the villainess. You like her and you even offered your friendship, but with each interaction, your demise is always lingering at the back of your head.   “I didn’t take you for being such a mentor.”   You whirl around, nearly startled to death by the voice and you discover a tall, dark-haired man leaning against the marble pillar with a sly smile.   “How long have you been there?”   Taehyung grins. “Not long. I was just passing by. It was a coincidence.” He turns in the direction where Lucy went. “I heard you had a tea party, how did it go?”   “It was exhausting.” You stretch your arms over your head and walk over to lean against the stone ledge next to him. “I don’t think I’m quite fit for the palace life.”   Taehyung smiles and you look up at him. “Are you going to the garden again?”   He nods and there’s a strong urge to ask him if you can come along. Just for a small break before they find you and you’re swept up in another lesson. But you’re not sure if you should—   “Would you like to come?”    Taehyung asks the question for you and your eyes meet one another’s.   There’s no one around. Not a soul in sight who could stop you from going or leaving.   You know you should keep your distance from him. You know. But…   “Okay.”   You take him up on the offer, following after him, just for a moment of indulgence.

With the arrival of Spring also comes the Hunt. It’s a rather eventful time in the castle considering it's generally symbolic of the harvests of this year, thought to prevent famine if those attending can bring back large game. An irony that isn’t lost on you. But it’s an undoubtedly lively time and one that you don’t mind.   “You better bring back a whole moose,” you mumble as you tie the blue ribbon on the belt of Jungkook’s armour, making sure it’s tight and secure. The ribbon is a gift of good luck and one of affection. You’re obligated to tie one for Jungkook considering you’re his fiancée.    “I’ll bring back a dragon,” he declares brazingly and you lightly scoff.   This is his second time participating after winning last year, but you remember he was practically shaking back then out of fear and pressure.   “Okay then. Just make sure you don’t fall off your horse this time.”    “That was only once!”   You take a step back when you’re done tying the ribbon. “I should be the one going on the hunt instead of staying back for idle chit chat. I’m pretty sure I would be able to catch something bigger than you.”   “Probably.” Jungkook grins. “You’re good enough with your sword to be a knight.”   “They’d never let me.” You sigh. God knows your mother would be mortified and probably faint and die.    But while staying back and waiting for the men to return with their kill is boring as hell, at least you’re removed from the pressure of having to hunt large prey in the first place. It’s a competition after all and one that can get quite competitive from your knowledge.   You follow Jungkook to his prized white horse and watch him caress its muzzle.    “If you win, you should give the prize to Lucy.”   His brows furrow and he turns his head to you. “Lucienne? The girl I danced with at the ball? Why?”   You shrug half-heartedly. “Because she has no one and I feel bad for her. I already have a few knights who are going to dedicate their game to me.”   Jungkook hums, not thinking much about it. “Fine by me.”   He puts his foot on the stirrup and swings himself over, sitting on top of the majestic horse.   Preparations almost complete, you turn to the King who’s seated at the top of the stands in a throne-like chair. He looks across the field with an approving expression.   Your parents are beside the King and you spare them a mere glance before turning away. You haven’t spoken to them since the end of the debutante ball and you don’t plan to. It might be childish to give them the silent treatment, but you wonder to what end they’ll try to force you.   The attendant steps up. “Is everyone ready?”   At that exact same moment, as if he was called upon, a familiar dark-haired man with eyes the hue of deep honey enters your peripheral vision. Taehyung emerges onto the field filled with knights on horses and soldiers in armour. His navy cape draped over his left shoulder sways with each movement, twinkling in the sunlight as if there were stars sewn into the fabric. He’s grasping onto a steel pole, a magical staff and his presence garners whispers from all.   “Isn’t he the bastard son?” — “The first son of the King.” — “The one born from the maid.”   They’re all startled to see him — the nobles sitting in the stands, women murmuring underneath their breaths, men watching with their eyes wide, knights and guards. And most of all, you’re stuck at a standstill.   Heart thunderous in your ears — blood drained from your face — you can’t look away when all Taehyung is looking at is you.    He comes close and his expression melts into a tender smile, a softened gaze when he reads your eyes’ fixation on him.    Jungkook, on the other hand, grins and mounts off his horse. “Taehyung?!” The Prince welcomes his brother warmly — an action not unnoticed by the crowds watching. He hugs him and lets go a moment later. “What are you doing here?”   “What can I say? I’m here to steal your victory.”   The younger laughs and you can tell he’s genuinely excited. Jungkook’s cheeks are practically pink and bulging, and his eyes have brightened. “Do you want to put a bet on that?”   “How much are you willing to wager?” Taehyung quips back.   “My pride and dignity.”   He scoffs playfully. “How about your private library collection?”   “Deal. And if I win, I want you to come to the feast tonight.”   Taehyung grins. “Looks like this year’s going to be difficult for you, Your Highness.”   “I’ll keep up.” Jungkook laughs again and gets back on his horse.   A stable-boy comes rushing over with a horse for Taehyung and before the King can utter a single word or you have a chance to speak to him, the games have begun. Taehyung glances over his shoulder at you for a single beat and then he’s off into the woods with the rest.    In the original game, Taehyung never participated in the Hunt.   He looked on from the window of his tower and even sabotaged Jungkook.    In the original game, Jungkook became injured but still conscious enough that before he fated, he declared he would give his prize to the heroine since Anastasia was so overbearing. It sparked the girl’s jealousy and was the reason why she decided to conspire with Taehyung. It was the first domino in the chain — the beginning of the villains working hand in hand.   But none of that is happening.   You wonder how far your choices will continue to deviate from the story. How many more mistakes—   “Are you alright, Anastasia?”   You jolt, torn out of your deep trance by a worried gaze. Lucy has leaned in towards you, her brows knitted together and you smile. “I’m fine. I was just thinking about something.” You quickly change the subject. “Have you given your ribbon to anyone yet?”   The pair of you are walking down the castle hall, heading towards the dining hall where you know the noble women will be having tea and making small talk while waiting for their sons and husbands.   Lucy shakes her head and unties the blue ribbon she had around her wrist.    “Why not?”   She stares at the soft satin for a second and then looks up at you, mustering a small smile. “I wouldn’t know who to give it to.”   “Well, you still have time to decide. You can give it to someone when they get back.” You hum to yourself. “How about giving it the Crown Prince?”   Lucy’s eyes are as large as saucers and she blinks thrice.   You’re a bit endeared with how surprised she seems at your suggestion. “Don’t you admire Prince Jungkook?”   “I...I do,” she admits quietly and peeks at you again. “But I wouldn’t want to overstep—”    “Not at all!” You reassure her. “Prince Jungkook likes the admiration. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind whatsoever. He might actually appreciate it.”   The girl smiles to herself and nods.   Evening sets in after meaningless conversations, cordial expressions and polite responses. The only interruptions are the horns that ring as each participant in the Hunt slowly arrives back.   Jungkook returns sweaty and out of breath, but with a whole moose like he promised. There are cheers and applauses, but more importantly, silent gasps when he beelines straight to Lucy to give her the prize. She blushes, a stuttering mess full of ‘thank yous’ and ‘it’s an honour’, and you discover Jungkook’s bashful behaviour at her sincere gratitude.    He scratches the back of his neck, diverts his vision, mutters ‘it’s fine’. It’s fascinating to watch considering he’s always been arrogant and bratty to you since the day you met him.   But you don’t get to observe their moment for long.   Not when the horns ring again and a figure appears over the horizon.    This time, no one moves. Truly stunned. Breaths hitched. Holy shit. Taehyung arrives back with a bear and he doesn’t even look like he’s broken a sweat.   “Wow!” Jungkook is the first to react, moving out of the crowd to his brother. He’s genuinely amazed and impressed, jaw dropped and brows shot to his hairline. “You did this?!”   “Didn’t I say I would win?” Taehyung grins languidly.   “This...is incredible!” Jungkook’s admiration for his brother causes the unsettled crowd to finally calm. It starts off slow, a clap here or there and then it’s applause, cheering and murmurs of acknowledgment.   “Has anyone ever brought a bear back before?” — “Did he use magic?” — “Why didn’t the eldest son participate in the Hunt before?”   And you know that it’s the first time people have clapped for Taehyung.   The attendant rushes forward, sputtering on his words. “T-The winner for this year’s Hunt is His Highness, Prince Taehyung!”   Taehyung wins a chest of gold, worth more than fifty commoner’s lifetimes and you watch as he bows his head as he receives it. You watch as he holds it and strides towards you. You watch until his arms have extended and a smile draws upon his features.   “What are you doing?” you ask, a whisper that’s befallen off your lips, spilled past the astonishment.    His gaze and smile never wavers. “I’m giving my prize to you.”   The crowd’s stirred to silence, watching the two of you, and you receive the wooden chest.   The attendant quickly announces the feast in the hall and servants begin ushering the people inside. But you continue watching Taehyung, your eyes connected to his, both grounded in the private bubble.   No one notices the King sitting on top of the stands, his brows tightly knitted.    //   The dining hall has shifted.   No longer are there laced tablecloths, towers of pastries and teapots from the afternoon. It’s large plates that have stretched along the surface, meats and cheese, breads and butters that have begun the feast. There are grandiose chairs all around three different tables, arranged based on importance and connections, conversations that have filled the enormous room.   The darkness of the night is casted away by the chandeliers overhead, illuminating the room in a golden hue. Yet, while each is high on the atmosphere, drunk by the wine, you can’t swallow the food down.    The tapping of utensils on glass has you looking over. The room simmers down.    By the coaxing of Jungkook beside him, Taehyung rises from his chair and clears his throat. It’s customary for the victor of the Hunt to give a speech and you’re guessing this is it.   “Thank you all for coming.” Taehyung appears unfamiliar and awkward addressing the crowd, quickly rushing over his words as if to get it done and over with. “I have never participated in the Hunt before this year and it was only because of beginners luck that I won. That—”    Suddenly, Taehyung looks right at you. “—and the support of those most important to me.”    Then, as quick as he stole his glance, he turns away. “I hope the harvests of Ashea will prosper this year.”   There’s thunderous applause and the feast resumes.   You’re overwhelmed, dizzy, the celebrations of the room getting to your head — laughter, questions, comments louder by ten decibels until it feels earsplitting.   You look over at Jungkook, finding that he has two blue ribbons pinned on his left side. He’s smiling widely, oblivious. Then, your head whirls over to your parents sitting down the table. They might have friendly smiles plastered on their features, but you can tell through their eyes that there’s seething anger. They’re unhappy, most likely with you, most likely with what happened earlier.   “Anastasia.” Lady Devon, who sits beside you, calls you out of your thoughts, disapproving at how your listening skills could be so poor.   You blink, pretending you were in deep thought about her discussion of silver forks and the corner of your mouth tugs. “If you’ll excuse me…”   After a delayed moment, she nods and you push your chair back, blurring into the massive paintings on the wall as you slip out to the terrace.   The night is cold.    Each exhale of yours is visible and you tug the soft pink shawl around your shoulders closer to your body for some warmth as you lean against the railings. You look up at the star-filled sky, finally able to calm yourself from the noise inside. You’ve always been glad that no matter where you are, what universe it is, there’s always the same sun, stars and moon. A constant.   One thing you don’t have to worry about.   “Is there something wrong?”   You know who it is before you’ve even turned around.    It’s a relief. You’ve waited all day to be able to speak to him, to be away from prying eyes and in a private moment. It’s easing. Your nerves take comfort in the familiarity, somehow finding his very presence soothing. Yet it’s unsettling at the same time. You have too many questions, too many suspicions and you don’t know if you want to uncover the truth.   But you gather your strength and face Taehyung. “I’m just thinking.”   “About what?”   Taehyung approaches your side. The warm light from inside the palace spills out and your shadows cast onto the grass beneath the terrace. There is not a soul in the hall when they’re all inside the dining hall, celebrations and conversations muffled through the many walls.   You inhale a breath. “Why?”   Taehyung frowns.   You ask again, “Why did you give me your prize?”   “Should I not have?”   Half of his face is illuminated, the slope of his nose and dip of his cupid’s bow sharp against the glow of the chandeliers, reminiscent of the chiaroscuro of a painting.   “That’s not it. Just…..” Why does he treat you so kindly, why does he want to go out of his way to talk to you, why does he look at you like that— “Why?”   In the original game, Anastasia was Taehyung’s chess piece and nothing more.   “Does there need to be a reason?” The corner of his mouth tugs gingerly. “I wanted to, so I did.”   “But there’s so many eligible bachelorettes you could’ve them them to, like Lady Myoi or Lady Paxton—”   “None of them matter,” he injects without needing to blink or think twice. “Not like you do.”   Your head snaps up and your eyes meet. Taehyung gazes at you tenderly, searching your irises with a small smile and he swallows hard. His voice lowers when he asks, “Are you cold?”    Oddly enough, even with the chilly wind whisking through the branches and swaying the leaves, you aren’t cold if he’s here.    Yet suddenly, Taehyung snaps his fingers and you’re engulfed with the warmth of an embrace. It’s the heat of a winter fire crackling underneath the mantle, the Summer sun casting down on your cheeks, and it travels from your toes to your head, and you can’t help the giggle that spills from you.    “What did you just do?”   He grins and leans closer to you. “It’s a simple warmth spell.”   Your brow cocks. “How much magic do you exactly know?”    He even managed to get that bear without looking like he had to fight. Your efforts to get him not to tap into magic all those years ago were in vain, but you have to admit it’s pretty cool.   Taehyung looks away, smile easing. “It doesn’t matter how much magic I have. It’s not enough for what I really want.”    Your breath hitches in your throat. The implications of his words welcomes the tension back into the air that had snuck itself away for a simple moment. But it isn’t uncomfortable. It isn’t the kind of tension that comes when you’re speaking to the Duke and Duchess, not the stiffness that arrived when you were being scolded by Edith. No. It’s different. It’s….intimate.    Especially when he sneaks a glance at you and you hold it, eyes fixated into his.   None of you speak, breathe, bat a lash. Not when Taehyung starts to lean in close. Not when you begin to feel the heat of his cheeks on your skin, when you can hear the thunderous noise of his heartbeat bruising his rib cage. His lash tickles yours. But before your lips can brush—   You push him away.   Taehyung stumbles back, nearly falling over, but he grasps the railings.   Your breath heaves and you stare at him in shock, in horror with what was about to happen. And before anything can be said or done, you turn away.   “Wait! Anastasia!” Taehyung calls after you. “I’m sorry!”   “I….I need to leave.”   You can’t deviate from the story more than you already have. This is a mistake.   In the midst of your panic, you return to the dining hall and cut through the room. It’s the quickest way back to your chambers, so you don’t hesitate to move your steps, never once looking behind your shoulder. Luckily, Taehyung doesn’t follow after you. He can’t.    But while each is celebrating and distracted with their company, a certain girl notices your distraught and frantic form beelining to the massive doors.   Something doesn’t sit right in her, so she immediately stands and bows her head to the woman she was speaking to. “If you can excuse me, thank you, I’ll be right back.”   Lucy follows after you, eyes pinned on your backside.   The only people who pay any mind is your mother, the Duchess of Devereux. Her senses are sharp and she taps your father on the shoulder until he follows her line of sight to the girl.   The castle grounds are dark, the moon waxing but not yet full enough to provide a bright light. But enough is shed for you to see. It’s enough for shadows to cast along the stone walls. You would never walk outside at this time of night, but you need air. More of it. Something you can breathe in and hope will clear the cloudiness inside your mind, the noise that’s earsplitting.   A gentle tap on your shoulder has you screaming.   “It’s me!” Lucy puts her hands out, her eyes wide. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you.”   You catch your breath, steadying it and you swallow hard. “W-What are you doing outside? I thought you were still celebrating the feast.”   “I saw you walking by and I thought something was wrong and I got worried, I’m sorry.” She looks at you when the silence is ongoing. The concern is evident through her knitted brows. “Are you alright, Anastasia?”   It seems like everyone is asking you that question today.   A question you don’t know how to respond to yourself.   But you manage a nod and a smile. “I’m fine. I was just tired. I was thinking of retiring to my room early.”   “Oh, okay.”   You step towards her and grasp her hands within your own. “Can you do me a favour, Lucy, and keep Jungkook company tonight? He might be looking for me too and I don’t want him to be worried.”   “I will.” She nods. “But do you want me to escort you to your room? I could call someone—”   “No, it’s quite alright. I’ll be fine.” You smile and let go of her. “You should go back now before someone goes looking for you.”   Lucy nods for a second time and she bids you a goodnight as she walks back.   You’re left by yourself and you turn to tread your own way. The weight of so many decisions lie upon your shoulders and slow down your steps. You wonder why you have to bear the heavy burden of knowing your future, of knowing all of theirs while trying to escape your own fate.    It feels like you’re a pawn trying to control the whole chess board.   You exhale a breath, watching the cloud dissipate and unbeknownst to you, there’s a rustle in the garden’s bushes.   “That’s her, isn't it?”   Two shadows emerge from the darkness and before your ears can pick up on the noise, before you can turn around and meet the figures, a cloth is clamped over your mouth. Your shout is muffled and arms begin to drag you in the opposite direction of the castle.   What the fuc—    Immediately, your elbow juts out and the man behind you sputters, cowering over with a curse. You manage to slip out of his loosened grip, about to sprint and yell. Until another overtakes you and grabs hold of your wrists, yanking you back.   “Wench!” A cold blade sits at the juncture of your throat and you freeze, breaths tearing out of your throat frantically. You can fight him. Years of swordsmanship didn’t render you useless after all. But his threat delays you— “Shut your mouth if you don’t want Baron of Liza dead too.”   What?   Your mouth is stuffed with cloth and you’re roughly ripped into the darkness.   At the same time, Taehyung, still at the terrace and about to leave, turns around.

[ilguna]

Redamancy - Chapter Nine (f.o)

summary: it’s time to forgive and repair.

warnings; swearing, brief mention of murder.

wc; 8.9k

NOTES; I give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

This morning, you’re floating around the room. There’s an impossible grin on your face as you move to get ready today, not even mad over the fact that you didn’t get much sleep last night. It’s the anticipation of seeing your tribute again--now a victor! You’ve always pictured the moment where you finally get to see your tribute again after their big win, and it’s finally happened.

Five years of trial and error, and you’ve finally found a solution. It doesn’t matter that it’s been standing in front of you the entire time, all that matters is that you made it. You figured out what you need to do in your future years. In no time, you’ll be just as infamous as Districts One and Two. No more caskets, you’ll finally be able to start sleeping easy.

What you wear today doesn’t have to be anything specially fancy. You settle for a pair of black jeans and dark grey shirt. You kick the black tennis shoes out of the closet and into the middle of your room. You drop the clothes onto the bed, but bring the black underwear into the bathroom with you.

You turn on the shower, and strip yourself naked. The last time anyone has seen Annie was a week and a half ago, inside of the arena. Since then, you only get updates on her. Mostly the injuries she sustained, and fixing the blemishes that might have appeared on her skin since being inside of the arena. You went ahead and approved the full-body polish, mostly because you’re not sure if she can handle seeing the scars as reminders.

It’s less of the fact that she might find them ugly and will want them covered up later, and more of the fact that she literally will not be able to handle seeing them. Along with all the other testing and evaluating that they’ve been doing over the last week and a half, they’ve also been frequently checking her mental health. She’s pretty drugged each time they ‘wake her up’ from her medically-induced coma, but from what they can tell, it’s not good.

Annie’s time in the arena has left her damaged. Which is okay, because that has happened to all the victors that you’ve met so far. This will be the first time you’ve seen it more severely, and you’ll just have to take a different approach with it. You’ve already decided that she won’t be replacing you in the mentor program, or helping you, Anchor, and Finnick in the boarding school. At least, not until you’re sure that she can handle it.

For now, she’s a delicate flower, and needs to be handled as such. 

You shower, scrubbing yourself clean. The sugary smell of the body wash fills the air, and you find yourself taking in deep breaths through your nose to savor the sweetness. Even if it’s unintentional, the Capitol is exceptional at selling products to you. How can you resist the body scrub that makes you smell like ice cream? You can’t.

You have time before you need to be out in the dining room to meet Finnick to go down to Annie. So, you sit on the floor of the shower, hair out of reach of the water to make sure that you won’t have to dry it, and let the warm water soothe you. Every now and then, you’ll turn it hotter, or colder, bouncing back and forth until your stomach is growling and you can’t put it off any longer.

You dry yourself with a soft towel, eyes on yourself in the mirror. You can’t really help it when you turn to see the scar on your back. A part of you is sad that you couldn’t even keep one thing for Annie. A scar, a cracked tooth, some abnormality. Something on her body that would tell everyone, when shown, that she won the Hunger Games and kept an injury as a souvenir. Even after everything that she’s gone through. 

It would be a sign of strength, you think.

You pull on the black underwear, and leave the bathroom to get dressed in your room, since that’s where you left your clothes. The moment you step into the doorway, you can see Finnick sitting on the chair in the corner. He stares blankly at you for a moment, before he slowly turns a red color.

“I should’ve knocked.” He covers his eyes with one hand, but does the little peek thing through his fingers as a joke.

Of course, the one time you don’t lock your bedroom door before you go to take a shower, someone comes in. And of course, the first person that does it by accident is Finnick.

You give him a face before pulling on your jeans, “You need something?”

“Just came in to check on you, you’ve been showering for a while now.” he says, there’s a smile hinting at the corner of his lips. 

“And you didn’t knock?” you pull on your shirt next, and reach for a pair of socks, when you realize that you didn’t set any out by accident. This starts your next hunt.

“I did, actually, a couple of times. Elysia got tired of the sound so she told me to sit and wait or give up altogether.” Finnick shrugs, “We’re both adults here, so I thought that you wouldn’t be too bothered if I sat in here.”

“Seems like an innocent enough excuse.” you grin, he laughs a little bit to himself, “What are you planning?”

“Obviously I was hoping that you’d walk out naked.” 

You roll your eyes, “You’re a little late for that.”

You open the top drawer of the dresser to find that there’s only one pair of socks, which means that you’re going to have to wear this pair tomorrow. You’ll only be in the Capitol today and tomorrow, after that you’re going to be going home. Unfortunately, none of you are going to have a minute to think to yourselves as soon as Annie’s awake. 

You pull on the socks, and then the shoes. Together, you and Finnick meet Elysia in the dining room. She’s wearing a particular green color that you vaguely remember her wearing after you won your games. It’s a different shade, a pea green color. It’s not an awful color on her, but it’s the color itself that looks gross. It seems that all of the times you’ve had to change Alyssum’s diaper has finally gotten to you.

“You look like you’re wearing baby shit.” you say, going down the steps.

Elysia’s neck practically breaks from how hard she turns to look at you, “What?”

“The color, it’s putrid.” you sit in a chair. Finnick sits next to you, laughing.

She looks down at what she’s wearing, a frown appearing on her face, and then she looks back at you, “You’re not kidding.”

“It’s an ugly color.” Finnick agrees, “It’s a good thing that you’re changing later.”

“The both of you are insufferable.” She sighs, but going back to drinking her coffee, “I suppose I should thank you for being honest.”

“You’re welcome.” You say, piling the food onto your plate.

“Just keeping you on your toes.”

It’s pancakes, and spread all over the table, is a variety of toppers. Different types of syrups, like caramel, fudge and maple are offered. Next is the sweets, like chocolate chips and toffee. Or there’s the fruits, bananas, strawberries, blueberries, everything you could possibly imagine. Which is quite a difference from the day you were only allowed to have fruits.

You grab what seems good, keeping in mind that you’ll be able to try as many combinations as you want to. You start with the fruits, and then the sweets, and end with the syrups, since they’re pretty irreversible. You could always ask for a new plate, or you can just be smart and wait until the end to try syrups.

Anyway, Finnick seems to have the same thought process that you do. Maybe he’s finally realized that this will be the last breakfast you eat. As tomorrow you’ll probably be eating brunch, or lunch altogether from how late you’ll be getting up. The final interview will be conducted at two tomorrow, you’ve already been given the schedule. And since the Victory Banquet that will take place tonight, lasts until early morning, you’ll all be sleeping in past breakfast.

The avoxes take their time clearing the table, since you three are in no hurry to leave. There’s still half an hour to burn before you should even think to start making your way downstairs. There’s no set time that Annie will be awake, but they’ll let her out of the room at a certain time. When they’re sure that the drugs have worn off and that she won’t hurt herself, or others.

And since her current mental state is a little questionable, she’s been met with quite a few exceptions from the gamemakers and President Snow, himself. You remember having to put on your arena outfit after you woke up in the medical room. It wasn’t a pleasant sight after everything that you’d been through. The navy blue color has almost permanently been ruined for you because of it. 

If it was hard for you, there’s no telling what Annie might think of it. So, she’ll be wearing sweatpants and a shirt. The accommodations don’t really stop there, they’ll continue on from today, to tonight, to tomorrow afternoon, District Four, all the way until after her Victory Tour. Annie is in no state to be constantly hounded by cameras as soon as she gets home. Same thing goes for coming face to face with the families of the dead tributes.

Annie’s lucky that she was born and fought for the district she’s in currently, otherwise there’s no telling what other mentors would have made her do. Look strong-minded, as if the games didn’t affect her at all. Pretend as though killing two tributes isn’t detrimental all by itself. Act like Marsh never meant a thing to her, like he was just garbage to be thrown away.

No, you and Finnick know the value of human life. You know that volunteering takes a willpower that you will never have. On one hand, you’re lucky that Alyssum isn’t in your age group, because you would have hated to volunteer over her. To willingly put yourself into a situation that would supposedly look like a ‘noble act’. But on the other hand, if she’s chosen for the games--since her eligibility doesn’t just magically go away because you’ve won--you won’t be able to volunteer for her, only mentor.

It’s mostly the reason why you’re so hellbent on sending her to the boarding school. You, Reed and Mox can’t protect her. She’s too young. Reed is seventeen years older than her, Mox is sixteen, and you are twelve. If she gets chosen, none of you can go in there and protect her. Even family friends are too old to do that, and you would never ask them to do it in the first place.

To volunteer to go into the games is to willingly accept that you might die when you go inside. It means to stand in line to get on Charon’s boat to cross the river Styx. It’s like standing outside of the gates of hell, knowing what is happening on the other side of the fence, and choosing to go inside anyway. In a way, it also means that you are not completely whole, and you are trying to find the missing piece. 

The Hunger Games is not that missing piece.

The Hunger Games takes all the pieces you have and scatters them. You have to find each and every one of them individually, and hope that you haven’t gone out of order. Otherwise, you’re stuck in some purgatory of not knowing what you’re missing and thinking that missing piece is the solution.

You know because you’re speaking from experience. 

The moment you rsoe from that platform inside of the arena, you lost everything you had before. You had to build it from the ground up, hoping that the foundation that your brothers had helped with, was sturdy enough to build the rest of the house. You got lucky in there. What they don’t tell you, is that you lose all the pieces when you come back, too.

You’ll never be able to officially understand what Annie will feel and go through, but you’ll be able to offer her advice. Tell her that she’s not alone, and every single victor had to go through the same process that she’s going through now. Readjusting back to reality after living inside a death trap designed to kill you, is hell. It’s always like walking through hell.

“I think I’m going to change.” Elysia says, getting up from the table and leaving towards the hallway, which might actually lead her to a room with extra clothes for the escorts. You don’t know, you never go farther than the balcony because there’s never a need to.

“Are you okay?” Finnick asks, his hand is gentle on your shoulder, “You’ve got a look on your face.”

“Just remembering how I felt post-games.” you look at him.

“Hopeless?” His voice is careful.

“Hopeless.” you agree, giving him a smile, “It’s okay, the pieces are coming back together. One at a time. I’m sure by the time I’m Haymitch’s age, I should have my head on straight without the help of alcohol poisoning.” 

Finnick lets out a laugh, and then draws you in close enough to press a kiss to your lips. There’s a small explosion of heat across your face, since the giddy feeling from when you were a teenager seems to have come back. Along with all the previous feelings you had for Finnick. 

You never stopped loving him, you were just waiting until it was the right time.

He presses a kiss to your forehead after, “Is your room back home soundproof?”

You pull away from him, face twisting, “You know how to ruin a moment, huh?”

“It was a genuine question!” He asks, but there’s laughter in his voice.

“If that’s really a concern, we can just use your house.”

He makes a face, “Your bed is always softer.”

“That’s because I know how to get a proper mattress.” a smile appears on your face as you get to your feet. You can hear Elysia coming down the hall, heels clicking on the wooden floorboards.

She’s dressed in a darker green, which still goes with her makeup, so there wasn’t a need for change. She obviously did this on purpose, just so that she wouldn’t have to take off what she’s wearing, put on a fresh layer, only to take it off a couple hours later. It would be a waste, mostly because all of the products in the Capitol are crazy expensive.

“We can go now.” she says.

Together, the three of you take the first elevator down to the Training Center, and then a second one further underground. Where the walls, floors and ceiling is all cement, and the doors are hidden unless digitally told to move. You remember sitting inside of your medical room, waiting for the doors to open for you. A random panel on the wall had moved. You knew the door blended in, but the architect was a genius for how well they'd done it.

You’re not allowed to go beyond a certain point. Annie hearing your voices directly outside of her room can make her feel like she’s going insane--it’s a rule for all victors, not an accommodation for her--and might even make her destructive. The peacekeepers stand in place for a while, motionless and waiting for orders. When the orders are given to them, they leave you three to yourselves in the hallway.

“Three more days until we go home.” you massage the back of your neck, “Finally, I’m tired of this.”

“So it takes nearly three full weeks for you to grow homesick?” Finnick asks.

“More of the fact that I just want to start the next round of trainees.” you run a hand through your hair, now, “Now that I’ve caught the mistake, I just want to fix it before it’s too late.”

“Do you have a set schedule for training?” Elysia asks, you can see Laurel coming your way.

When she stops next to Elysia, she doesn’t really say anything, just listens to what you three are talking about. If you didn’t know her as well as you did, you’re sure that you would be afraid to speak about this in front of her. However, she’s like one of your best friends, you trust her with your life.

“Mostly during the school year, we take a break when the games come around, and pick it up a week or two after. But this year I’m probably going to make them come in as soon as possible.”

Elysia opens her mouth, pauses, and then asks; “You take their entire break from them?”

“No,” Finnick says, you smile along, “No, when we designed this, we knew that we wouldn’t be able to run it all day long.”

“But you call it a boarding school.” she says slowly.

“To make sure that we don’t get in trouble with the law.” you raise your eyebrows slightly, feeling smug, “Preparing tributes for the Hunger Games is highly illegal, but if you can find ways around it…”

“Also, the school runs from late afternoon into evening. The teens have the entire morning to themselves.” Finnick says, “Because there’s nothing more teenagers hate than having to get up in the morning for school.”

You nod, “It runs for four to five hours, sometimes over if it’s a special day. We always warn the parents and teens in advance. We also keep track of who comes in, who drops out and for what reason. And also grades, for the younger kids because their education is important and all of that.”

Finnick’s trying to suppress a smile, “We run a very ethical business.”

You laugh, elbowing him.

You can hear the scuffle of feet behind you, which makes you and Finnick turn to see who’s coming. You know already, there’s no one else in this part of the building that has woken from their slumber. 

Annie stands at the end of the hallway, looking only slightly disoriented. Her hair looks like she used her fingers to comb through it. As you said earlier, she’s wearing the grey sweatpants, with a matching grey shirt. At first, she just stands and stares at you guys, almost like she’s unsure if you guys are real.

And then a smile spreads across her face, breaking into a run with her arms open wide. You open your arms too, not being able to help the grin on your face. She slams into your body, arms tight around your waist. You squeeze her, rubbing her back with a laugh.

“Welcome back, Annie.”

She moves onto Finnick next, then Elysia, and finally, Laurel. When all of you can see her face, it’s slightly blotchy from crying. She wipes her eyes and gives you guys a wobbly smile, wrapping her arms around herself.

“How are you feeling?” you ask.

She shrugs slightly, “Tired, when are we going home?”

“Two days, we’ll be on the train by tomorrow afternoon.”

Annie smiles, Laurel touches her shoulder carefully, “Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah.” 

And then her eyes land on you, Finnick and Elysia, “Don’t wait too long to get ready, you only have a few hours.”

“We got it.” Finnick gives her and Annie a wave.

Laurel brings Annie’s arm into hers, talking to her on the way to the elevator. They take a turn around a corner, and then they’re out of sight. For a moment, all three of you stand in silence, trying to gather what you can from that brief interaction with Annie.

“I think that we shouldn’t be as careful as we’re being.” you say slowly, trying to make sure that you won’t be wording this wrong, “She isn’t a child, she’s eighteen.”

Finnick’s nodding along, “You can be fragile and still not break under pressure.”

“Bingo.” 

--

You decided that it wouldn’t hurt to get ready for the recap in the same room. You had Finnick bring his suit, and whatever he would need for his hair into your room, since you have too much to transfer. You stand in front of the mirror, half-naked and curling your hair. Finnick sits on a kitchen stool, wearing his black slacks and a white undershirt. He’s caught in a game of buttoning and unbuttoning his cuffs.

“We should get her a counselor.” he mutters absently.

“She can use mine.” you let the curl fall, and then twirl the strand of hair around your finger for a couple of seconds, “She’s still active, I see her every now and then when I’m having a particularly hard time.”

Finnick’s eyes find yours in the mirror, “How often?”

You shrug, “It’s gotten less over the years, but sometimes little things will set me off.” you give him a half-smile, “I don’t cook by myself anymore because the knives in our kitchen are small and triggering. But if it’s teaching the boarding school, I can use knives, swords, whatever all day long without a problem.”

You know what the problem is. When you cook, you like to do it alone because you don’t have people around you to distract you. You’re not as prone to making accidents. However, it also means that you’re allowed to think to yourself, and dig up everything that you’ve worked hard to bury. Like what it feels like to have your hands coated in blood, and the panicked feeling when Allio had woken up right as you’d begun to retreat.

If you’re surrounded by the teens, it means you’re using the knife with a purpose. You’re teaching them how to defend themselves, you don’t have to think about all the bad things you’ve done with a weapon, and all the feelings that came after. You also don’t do it often, too. You know to take breaks between you teaching and Anchor, because progress can unwind very, very quickly and easily. Years of work can be gone in a simple hour.

“Huh.” Finnick lets out, “Anything else?”

You think for a moment, and then laugh, “I don’t like the taste of fish. I can’t stand the smell of it cooking, either.”

Finnick laughs too.

“Alyssum asked me for a rabbit last year, like a pet.” You shake your head, “I told her no but I couldn’t explain why, exactly. How do you tell your little sister that you know what they taste like? Much less that you ate them for weeks on end?”

“That would be a good way to traumatize her.”

“Just a couple more years, and then I’ll let her in on the secret.” you wink.

You do your makeup next, going easy on the gold eyeshadow. Earlier, Laurel had hand-delivered a puffy gold dress, as well as Finnick’s black and white suit. He doesn’t get to have all the fun colors like he used to, unless he’s dressing himself. Laurel and Pleurisy wouldn’t allow that this time around, and you’re not really upset about it. She knows better than you do when it comes to what the Capitol will want to see.

“Are you nervous?”

You raise your eyebrows, “For what?”

“To be on stage, it’ll be the first time since we were kids.” 

You pause, looking at him, “Are you nervous?”

“A little.” he admits, shrugging, “I mean, people will know that I’m a phony and did nothing.”

“Except you did do something, you mentored. Just because you didn’t help in the boarding school, doesn’t mean anything just yet.” you back up for a minute, “I wish Leo was here to do my makeup, he can do it more evenly than I can.”

“I think it looks good.” Finnick says, “The real problem is the eyeliner, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, but I’ve been practicing.”

It’s quiet for a second, “You didn’t answer my question.”

A low hum sounds from you as you try and finish up what you’re doing, “I don’t think so.” you move onto your other eye, “It’s not about me, it’s about Annie and her victory. It’s harder to be afraid to look good and stuff like that. I’m not the main focus, we won years ago.”

“Except they’re going to know we’re a couple…” Finnick trails off, “Maybe that isn’t a bad thing.”

You smile, “See? You’re worrying over nothing.”

You finish up what you’re doing, which takes an additional ten minutes. After, you pull on the dress, have Finnick zip up the back, and then sit on the chair in front of the mirror. You lightly curl some of his hair to accentuate the look, it’s also somewhat of a throwback to how he’d look on stage the last time you two were together.

“You look very handsome.” you say, rufflign up his hair to make it look less clean.

“I look handsome? I think you look handsome.” Finnick says.

You fake a gasp, placing your hand on your chest, grinning, “Oh my gosh, thank you.”

He rolls his eyes, laughing. The only thing you have to do is put on jewelry and put on your shoes before it’s too late. You go ahead and do the black heels first, Finnick volunteers to do the ribbons on the bottom because he knows how to tie a tie. When he gets to his feet, you cup his face and kiss him.

All the jewelry is black, except for your ring. You pull on the bracelets, and while you’re positioning them, you spy a wiggly gold one. So, you place it in the middle to make a small pattern, before moving onto your ears. The earrings are dangly black lines, it doesn’t draw much attention, and it’s mostly hidden by your hair, unless you move it behind your shoulder or tuck strands behind your ears.

Just before you think you’re ready enough to go, you go back and apply black lipstick, afraid that Laurel will pick that out when she finally sees you in less than an hour. You make sure that the black isn’t on your teeth, and won’t be transferring onto Finnick if you end up kissing him more. Then, you head out of your room and into the dining room to see that Elysia is just about to leave the apartment too.

She’s dressed in silver, but she isn’t shiny like you are, “I think Annie’s wearing red.” 

“She is.” Finnick says, “It’s a maroon color, goes down to her calves.”

When you first saw the dress when Laurel showed you, it seemed a little dangerous, especially the color. But getting to see it in person a couple days ago, you finally agreed that Annie would like it. Annie’s not really going to get to see herself in the mirror, because they want to make sure she won’t have a panic attack just before the recap and crowning. Everyone was promised to make her glance in the mirror as brief as possible.

Elysia brings you and Finnick to where you’ll be standing when you’re raised. Unlike the first time, this time you and Finnick aren’t separated by a wall. You stand on yours briefly, and Finnick mimics you. A sense of nostalgia goes through you, staring at the wall in front of you like this, hands in your lap. Back then, you were moments from seeing Finnick for the first time since the arena. The first time he’d be able to see you awake, alert, alive.

You’re sure that you hate the feeling of all of this, rushing back into your head fast enough to give you a pounding headache. But you don’t move from the platform, you smile down at it slightly. It’s an old friend, the start of your journey home.

“Finnick?” you ask, looking at him.

His eyes meet yours, the darkness in here makes it nearly impossible to see the smile that appears on his face, “(Y/n)?”

“Thank you.”

His face twists slightly, “For what?”

“For saving me.”

He opens his mouth to ask what you mean, but Elysia appears telling you that Annie has made it down. The prep team and Laurel are going to go get ready, so you have a couple of minutes before you really need to start worrying about being where you should be. She disappears again.

“I’m going to go check on Annie real quick, I’ll be back in a few minutes.” you get off the platform.

Annie is standing by herself in the dark, playing with the smooth ruffles on her dress. She runs her fingers along the cloth, an easy soothing method. When she hears your heels, she looks over, and then smiles.

“Hey,” you stop in front of her, “You look great!”

Her chin lowers slightly, “Thank you, you do too.”

“The recap is going to be extremely easy. All you have to do is smile and wave.” you fix some hair, pulling it over her shoulder, “You don’t have to watch if you don’t want to.”

She nods, rubbing her hands down her dress until they disappear, pockets. You totally forgot that Laurel had incorporated pockets into her dress. You don’t even remember why she had done it in the first place, maybe because of the Victory Banquet? You suppose that makes the most sense.

Either way, she pulls out a small strand of rope, already frayed, “Laurel snuck me this.”

“Smart, I didn’t even think to get you something like that.” you nod, “We’ll be up in a couple of minutes, so just stay on the platform. You’ll be brought up last, you’ll hear Caesar and the audience above you.” 

“Thank you.” 

“I’ll see you in a bit.”

You join Finnick back at the plate, stepping onto it and readjusting little things to make sure that they’re in place. Finnick does the same, as the minutes tick down. Before you know it, the anthem is blasting overhead. It’s only a matter of time, now. You’ll be on stage briefly, and then you’ll be sitting in the crowd.

You listen to Caesar greet the audience, and then slowly start to introduce Annie’s prep team. Cleo is up first, then Beth, then Leo. They don’t get extremely loud cheering, as they’re not seen as super important. They only handle hair and makeup, but they still get their own small spotlight. And it’s their second time, too. Elysia is introduced immediately after, you’re sure she’s thrilled that being in District Four is finally paying off.

Of course, Laurel gets loud cheering because she organized Annie’s outfits. You’re sure she’s dressed in black, that’s her go-to color. However, she’s very good at making it not look like a funeral color, and more of a welcome sight. You remember her telling you, once upon a time, that the color shouldn’t be frowned upon and exclusively made for funerals. Just like white, black can be made a bright color too.

You’re not entirely sure about that, considering that you’ve been to more than your fair share of funerals. She can think that the color can be reimagined into something that hasn’t such a dim meaning as soon as it’s seen. But in the districts, it’ll never be given a new meaning. 

You and Finnick are next. You can hear your name being called, a little echo following after. The crowd is already cheering loudly, just as you’re beginning to be pushed up. You wipe the grim look off your face, knowing that it’s not what the audience will want to see. Plus, you’re not entirely sure you want to spend the rest of the day in a bad mood. You still have hours of being around Capitol people ahead of you.

You blink and squint through the light, waving towards the crowd. You can hear your blood rushing in your ears, heart pounding loudly in your chest. You look over to see that Finnick has this cheeky smile on his face, and then he looks at you. It’s an immediate sense of deja vu that washes over you.

As the two of you come together, he holds his hand out for you to take. You slip your palm into his, and pull him to you a little bit to give him a kiss. He meets you halfway, and honestly, if you thought that the cheering before was loud, it gets louder. You smile against his lips, and he can’t help but to let out a little laugh himself.

The two of you meet everyone else at the front of the stage, waving and pointing to the people you recognize from the betting room. At the end, the prep teams lead the way down to the front row of seats, leaving the middle just for you and Finnick. Very last, so she has the entire stage to herself, Annie raises from the ground.

The crowd stands, so you stand with them. You clap, and when Annie has made it to the top of the platform, you go ahead and whistle. You can’t imagine how lonely it is up there, being by herself. Suddenly you’re more appreciative of the fact that the gamemakers gave you an opportunity to go home with Finnick. Imagine standing on that stage, knowing it could have been two.

You squeeze Finnick’s hand a little harder.

Annie sits in the white chair, hands dipping into her pockets. She nonchalantly pulls out her string and messes with it while her recap begins to play. And since all recaps tell a story, hers is ‘lone survivor’. It’s not a happy tale, as it starts with teamwork. She watches Marsh get beheaded in front of her, but the room falls silent when she slits Geare’s throat, and then attacks Sanguin. The recap ends with her on the roof, announcing her own win.

Again, the anthem plays. Annie raises from her spot in her seat, as you all watch President Coriolanus Snow come out from the side, with a girl trailing behind him, carrying the crown on a pillow. He stops in front of Annie, at an angle so that the audience can see. He carefully picks up the crown before placing it on her brow.

He moves out of the way, cheering erupts all around you. Annie places one hand in her pocket, the one that was holding the rope, while she waves with the other. She looks naturally happy here, you wonder how you’ll break the news to her that she won’t have a moment to think to herself after this. You and Finnick won’t be allowed to stay near her the entire night, you’ve got people to talk to, yourselves. 

Caesar finally wraps up the show, bidding you all a good night, with a reminder to tune into tomorrow’s final interview. It’ll be the last real time that they see Annie before the Victory Tour, as tomorrow the last glimpse the cameras will catch is her leaving the train station. After that, she’s in her own protective bubble, away from the cameras.

You all hurry to catch Annie behind the stage, singing praise to how well she did on stage, even if it was just sitting. She looked absolutely wonderful with the crown, Elysia doesn’t stop telling her that, even after you all get in the car. The ride to the Victory Banquet at the President’s Mansion is filled with pure instruction and warning.

“You’ll have a small bit of time to eat before you’re bombarded.” you say, watching as Elysia fixes little bits of Annie’s costume, “So, eat quickly and don’t grab rich foods that you know will make you sick.”

Finnick goes next, “They’re going to want conversation and pictures, so keep it brief and don’t stop smiling. If they offer you drinks, turn it down. There’s a hundred combinations they have, and not all of them are good.”

“We’ll come by every now and then to check on you. But we can’t stay the entire time.”

“You’ll do great.” Elysia assures her.

And just as promised, you leave Annie alone when you get there. Just like her, you and him don’t have much time to yourselves. So, you eat and talk at the same time, covering your mouth occasionally if you’re doing both. The food is rich, cooked perfectly, and delicious. Some food will melt in your mouth immediately, while others you have to chew it a few times before the flavor really kicks in. It’s a buffet, so just like this morning, there’s endless possibilities on what you can taste.

You and Finnick make your way around.

“About earlier, when you thank me for saving you--what were you thinking?” he asks, watching you.

You give him a smile, grabbing a bowl while you carefully spoon in a type of stew that smells savory. When you get the first taste of it, it’s not too thin, and it’s got a variety of spices, too many to think. It’s on the variety of overwhelming, but the thought of more makes your mouth water.

“When I stepped onto the platform, I remembered how I felt when I knew I’d be seeing you in mere minutes.” You look at him, “You were the first thing I asked for when I woke up, did I ever tell you that?”

“No, actually.” he smiles a bit, mirroring you, “If it makes you feel better, I asked if you were okay and alive.”

You laugh, he does too, “When I got on stage…” you quiet for a second, lowering the bowl, “I was relieved.”

“Me too.” Finnick says, “But I was also nervous about kissing you again.” you give him a look, “Honestly!”

“Right, Mister Casanova--”

“Oh, not this again.”

“--who had all the girls in high school wrapped around his finger--”

“(Y/n), it wasn’t like that.” his face is slowly turning red, adjusting his footing.

“--never had his first kiss before me? Okay.” you grin, watching him recollect himself.

As he takes deep breaths, the normal color of his face begins to return, “I never said that, all I said was that I was nervous to kiss you again. Because, you know.”

“No, I don’t know. Go ahead and enlighten me.”

He tilts his head, making a ‘seriously’ face at you. You’re thoroughly enjoying this, watching him explain his feelings. If this is how he gets every single time, you think you’ll have to do it more often. Find the deep things that he hasn’t told you just yet, and watch him get flustered when you pretend not to know.

“You’re telling me that you didn’t notice I liked you? I walked you home after school, in the rain, snow, sun. My mom gave you cookies, (Y/n).” He says, and you have to pause to think.

“I just thought you were being friendly.”

“We hung out everywhere.” he emphasizes.

And you guess he’s right. You thought that you and him didn’t hang out that often, but it’s a lot more than you can recall off the top of your head. You were so preoccupied in your own little bubble, worried about things back home and how they would get done, to notice that he was always there.

“I’m sorry I didn’t notice earlier.” you tell him.

He shrugs, “I could always tell there was something on your mind.”

You smile.

Unfortunately, your time together, alone, ends there. You discard your plates and bowls in the proper places, knowing that you’ll be able to pick up more later if you have the time. For now, you talk to sponsors and important Capitol people. It’s mostly praise on how well your mentoring is, to get a tribute as dedicated as Annie is. But it’s also filled with pictures and polite smiles, pulling Finnick in close to join you.

There’s a few people that come around and tell you that they met you beforehand. Some of them you genuinely recognize, others aren’t as memorable, and you figure it’s because they came later. You remember all the faces blurring towards the end of the night. Mostly because they were drunk, dressed the same, and would talk the same before leaving.

You and Finnick work together to keep an eye on Annie. As far as you can tell, she’s holding up well. She seems like she’s comfortable, taking pictures and shaking hands. Elysia checks up on her first, and then comes around to you two to tell you that she’s feeling fine. About an hour later, you two become shields for her to allow her to recollect and start again.

She drinks water, you escort her to the bathroom, and help her pick out foods that will make her feel full. You vaguely know the tastes of all the food, and if you don’t, there’s papers that will tell her. Most of them are on point, some stray altogether. Annie seems to have fun, though, being able to pick her foods instead of having the Capitol regulate what she eats.

After that, you leave her again, wish her luck, and join Laurel and Elysia. They’re enjoying drinks with the prep team, who are all on the verge of making fools of themselves. Depending on the flavor of the alcohol, the color of the drink varies. You pick up a tall glass that fizzes that tastes like pineapple, lemon and orange. Finnick drinks a blue one that tastes like blueberries, blue raspberry and makes his face twist because it’s sour.

Some drinks go down like pure water, others make you pucker and cough from the intensity. Finnick will think that he’s strong enough to take on the drink that you just had, and then he’ll be subjected to the same burning sensation in his throat. You enjoy laughing at him after each time, until he finally learns his lesson.

As the night goes into morning, you and Finnick stop drinking and migrate around to say your goodbyes to as many people as you can before getting Annie with Elysia. All of you pile into the same car, where you’re brought to the Tribute Center. Immediately, Annie is brought to her room.

“We’ll see you tomorrow, just try and get some rest, okay?” you close her door, say goodnight to Elysia, and then you’re left with Finnick.

“Can I sleep with you tonight?” he asks, moving some hair out of your face.

“Yeah.”

You slowly undress, hanging the gold dress in the closet, dropping the shoes beneath it. In the bathroom, you shed every piece of jewelry into a single drawer, not caring whether or not it fits in. You don’t have to look good tomorrow, you won’t be on camera until you’re at the train station.

You clean your face, and meet Finnick in the bed. Slipping beneath the blankets, you lay on your back, closing your eyes as you allow the tension in your back and shoulders to escape you. Finnick comes into the room a couple of moments later, no longer wearing his suit, only his boxers.

He jumps onto the bed, making you bounce. You let out a laugh, watching him get under the blankets too. You let him pull you into his body, finding out that he’s a literal furnace. You’re not sure you’ll last too long with the blankets if he’s producing this much heat. Either way, you wrap yourself around him, feeling him pull you against his body.

“I’m so fucking tired.” he says.

“Me too.” you briefly squeeze him, “We’ll be home soon.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead, “You smell nice.”

“So do you.”

He lets out a half-laugh, before the two of you fall into silence. And eventually, sleep.

--

The morning is chaotic, as you have to move quickly to get ready this morning. Finnick brought in clothes last night to change into this morning. So, while he gets dressed, you briefly pull on a shirt and shorts before going out to eat breakfast with Annie and Elysia.

Annie’s only given so much time. She practically inhales the stew and rice, not having any time to properly enjoy it before the prep team is appearing. Laurel isn’t here just yet, as always. On the way out of the room, Annie picks up a buttered roll on the way out, waving to you and Finnick. She disappears in the hallway, you can hear her door shut.

You and Finnick don’t have a load of time, either. But you’re still allowed to eat slowly and properly savor the taste. When you’re done, you tell Elysia that you’ll be out before Annie starts her interview, and then Finnick goes to grab today’s clothes. You disappear into your room.

You take a shower, which entails washing your hair and your body. You should’ve done it last night, but you were far too tired to actually do it. When you step out, the machines dry you from head to toe, hair included. You pull on skin-matching underwear, and then pull your hair half-up, letting the rest be down like normal.

Makeup isn’t a number one priority, so you settle for mascara. Cameras aren’t going to be focusing on you, as you said. Finnick is sitting in front of the window when you get back inside of your room. He briefly looks over his shoulder to see you, and then back out at the city. The sun is nowhere to be seen, even though it’s past afternoon time by now.

You get dressed in ripped black jeans and a pink shirt. The tennis shoes are also black, the ring blends in slightly, which is the good news. The bad is that you and Finnick are almost matching, because of the shirt he’s wearing. But instead of telling him to get changed, you sit on the bed and pull on your tennis shoes. The city looks fairly alive, considering that Annie will be on television in less than a half hour.

“I’ve been thinking.” Finnick says, you hum, not moving from your spot on the bed, “It wasn’t me that saved you.”

Your eyebrows draw in, “What?”

“It was you who saved me.”

“Finnick, you know how dumb you sound right now, right?” you start, “You saved me from dying--twice! You saved me from the stab wound, and then kept me from falling over the edge of the cliff.”

“But you’re the one who got us to the cliff in the first place. You knew that running headfirst into the careers would get us killed. You were the one that kept pushing on even though you were physically dying--”

“Which wouldn’t have been possible without you healing me!” you say.

“And you were there the entire time during the victory tour.” Finnick’s voice gets quieter, “You held my hand the entire time. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have made it through.”

You get off the bed and sit next to Finnick, taking his hand in yours. You say nothing, leaning your head against his shoulder. The two of you sit like this for a while, watching the cars dart around in the streets until you have to get up and be there for Annie’s interview.

It’s pretty uniform. You, Elysia and Finnick stand in the doorway, behind the cameras but Annie can still see you if she looks over. Caesar starts off slow for her, cracking jokes and keeping topics light. There’s a few questions he has to ask, which make your hands curl into fists, nervous if this will be what makes her break down. Especially the question about leaving Sanguin alive.

But Annie eases right through it, “I didn’t have to kill her, so I didn’t.” and then moves onto the next question without blinking an eye. It works like this, her answers are informative enough to make sure that Caesar can’t press on, but vague enough to not dig up memories. You’re proud of her.

It goes on for a little while more, as the questions have no set direction. You know that when he’s asking about the end, it’s almost over. So, you cross your arms, watching and listening to Caesar propose the question.

“When you saw the water coming, what was your intention, exactly?” 

Annie pauses for a moment, drawing her lips inward, and then she lets out a smile, “I was trying to run for as long as possible before I had to get into the water. I ran straight, because zig-zagging would only slow me down. And the further I ran, the more the height of the water, and really the intensity, started to lower.

“I got on the roof because I knew that it would be easier to swim to the top of the water from halfway, rather than the bottom. And the pressure at the bottom might have been too much for my ears. I waited until the water was right in front of me before I dived in, so that the impact wouldn’t shock me. At the top, all I had to do was coast and wait until something happened.” Annie finishes, playing with her fingers.

“So, you didn’t anticipate winning?” Caesar asks.

“No, I thought that the other tributes might have been somewhere safe already. That the water would eventually lower, and I’d go right back to trying to survive.”

Caesar smiles, “Which is why the announcement came as a shock.”

Annie smiles back, “Yeah.”

The interview is over. Caesar wraps it up, and the cameras are off. You can hear laughing, watching people hug. Annie raises from where she sat on her chair, and comes over to you and Finnick.

“Home?” She asks hopefully.

“Home.” you repeat.

Just before you all leave for the train, you collect anything that you might want out of your room. You find that the clothes you wore during the reaping are nicely folded and placed on the edge of your bed. You pick it all up, holding it against your chest when you meet Finnick in the hallway, looking the exact same way that you do.

You all meet in the front room together, where you go downstairs and out onto the street to see cars with blackened windows. Together, you, Finnick, Annie, Elysia and Laurel fit into a large car. Where you all assure Annie that she looks great, and that she answers her questions like she should’ve.

She gets a brief moment to say goodbye to Laurel, hugging her and thanking her for everything that she’s done so far. After that, you’re all brought onto the train station, where Annie waves goodbye for a couple of seconds, and then you’re inside, and the doors have closed.

“Holy shit.” you let out, stretching your arms above your head, “Glad that’s over.”

The entire train is dark for a couple of seconds, as you pass through the tunnel on the way out. As soon as light has filled the windows again, Elysia is bringing you all to the dining room to eat. It’s a big dinner, with plenty of courses. Annie seems to have it down by now, and she lasts all the way to the end before she’s full. You and Finnick picked at what you wanted, finishing up with the chocolate lava cake and ice cream.

After, you all sit on the couch together to watch a replay of the interview. Every now and then, Annie will admit how she was thinking of saying something else, and then will tell you what she could’ve said instead. Some of it is letting the audience down more slowly, other times it’s straight-forward and almost out-of-character. Like she’s trying to purposely provoke the Capitol into having an interaction.

When it’s over, you’re left to entertain yourselves. Annie says that she’s heading right to bed, and you and Finnick figure that it won’t hurt to do the same. However, neither of you are tired. For a while, you swing in Finnick’s hammock, talking to him about the boarding school and the schedule, how you’ll fit him in and what the teens will benefit from it.

“You think your brothers will kill me tomorrow?”

“We’ll just barely step off the platform and you’ll be dead.” you laugh, “You have no chance of even making it back home.”

“I think I can run fast.” 

You look over your shoulder, through the holes of the rope at Finnick, who’s watching you. You tilt your head, amused by the thought of him managing to outrun Reed, “I don’t think you’ll make it ten feet. He’ll just jump at you. What will you do then?”

Finnick sputters out a laugh, “Jump out of the way, easy peasy.”

You laugh a little too loud, covering your mouth. When you settle, you say; “I think they’ll be happy to see you again.”

You can hear Finnick get up, and you watch as he comes closer, standing next to you. He takes your hand in his, squeezing it, “Good, because I don’t plan on going away ever again.”

You give Finnick a soft smile, “I know.”

--

REDAMANCY IS PART 2 OF A TRILOGY //MASTERLIST//

add yourself to the TAGLIST

@f1nal-g1rl / @starlight-selene / @neenieweenie / @amixedwitch / @accxio / @suranne-doesstuff

[crossbackpoke-check]

sorry sorry i’m gonna need to hear more about this musher au RIGHT NOW i somehow never realized it was about the WILD????

hoooo boy please buckle up for the unhinged mess that is the extended musher au universe. i would like to preface this by saying that it does not actually exist in story form, best said by my playlist for it:

although kirill kaprizov is single-handedly fueling my desire to write this musher au i’ve progressively added to over the years like,,, i know what i said. i know what the playlist says. but also. what if i do it

look at him!!!

there are several plots to the musher au but! the wild plot (affectionately referred to as the laura plot) centers around kirill, young mushing phenom who’s taking the racing world by storm with a small team of dogs and the odds always against him. he wants to be the best—so of course he wants to win the iditarod—but he has to find a sponsor in order to be able to afford to enter. he’s got enough winnings to buy a plane ticket to the us the summer before he plans to race, and he’s determined to make it no matter what. he’s been racing with a small team of dogs and rough handed-down equipment (yes i have an entirely separate plot for how that equipment got handed down, i said there were multiple stories it’s a cinematic universe) and he needs to find a place to stay where he can rest, recharge, and gather up everything he needs in order to be able to race.

cue the minnesota wild kennel (owned by spurg!) who offer to give kirill a job and a place to train his team while he works towards raising money for the iditarod. they’re a seasonal tour company who think their dreams and chances of running the iditarod are long past, but they’re willing to bet on kirill because he’s a kid with a lot of heart. they can’t sponsor him themselves (👀👀) but they’ve got connections through their past racing and it’ll be good experience for kirill, plus, y’know, it’s still a paying job even if it’s tourist tours. kirill is determined that he’s going to do it all on his own, and the entire household of the minnesota wild are determined to adopt this “what breed is he? just a little boy” feral russian and love him to pieces. at the risk of being incredibly vague for fear of oversharing my own plot, their affection for him and the lengths they’re willing to go in order to for him include this and a very pivotal ending that has a lot to do with finding a home.

(yes i saw the caption that said “BREAKING: Kirill is home 🏡” and verbatim went “kirill kaprizov stupid laugh and an aurora borealis print awakening the beast of the musher au from the depths of my mind once again, he’s literally coming home to them he’s coming back oh my god”)

OUR CAST:

kirill. he’s our little thrill whom you know and love. moose is a co-owner of the kennel who worked with jared for years before finally buying in, while tender loving husbands dumba & jonas raced overseas for years before moving to minnesota to raise dogs and ending up as close friends and sometimes guides for jared, if the season is too much or they can’t afford to hire enough people. resident veterinarian and fellow musher zucs lovingly adopts kirill as his own, teaching him about how to properly care for his dogs, which is especially important if he has to run with a small team of the bare minimum dozen. jared co-owns and runs the kennel that he inherited from his mentor and :) guess who that is :)

there’s a revolving door of seasonal guides who come into town and stay in the big community house for winter tours including fifi, jordan, merrill, and jeek, to name a few, and yes, they still call him mr. oktober because he comes back every year ripped from his summers off the grid in the wilderness (we are nothing if not canon), doesn’t tell anyone what he did, and they’re all like ‘he wrestled a bear! he hiked the appalachians! he learned how to cross-country skii in the tundras of siberia!’. if i can bear to write it, there is also a brief cameo by suter + parise during a race scene where they are simply old friends of the wild who Moved Away and they gently hassle kirill to calm his nerves before the race because that’s what jared would want, obviously.

i’m sure i’ll throw more guys in as i need them because i Do Love a group narrative and also sometimes you sit bolt upright at 1AM and go “i’m going to tag this (unwritten???) fic as ‘vague implications of a poly found family’ because are there any pairings or is this just me being sentimental about the minnesota wild and how they’re all in love”.

sorry!! that was a lot i hope you liked it!! i am always delighted to explain 💕💕

[phoenixfire-thewizardgoddess]

What is your opinion on straight passing privilege? I (bi) don’t think it exists, but a close (lesbian) friend of mine insists that it does bc “You can hold hands with your SO (nb cis passing man) in public without risking being the victim of a hate crime.” I have been researching but keep seeing this same argument coming up, and I’m unsure and don’t want to be making anyone upset if I’m being ignorant here.

I think that there's a lot of fucked up internet politics around who is and isn't allowed in the community. Which is ridiculous.

Gay, Lesbian, Bi, Pan, Poly, Ace, Aro, Trans, Intersex, etc.

The only people who shouldn't be in the community are cishets, and pedos, none of that 'it's a sexuality' nonsense, it's predation.

The concept of straight-passing is ridiculous, primarily because it's all based on assumptions. If you're in an m/f relationship, and you are both cis and heterosexual, it's straight.

But here's the catch, if you identify as any LGBPT+ then it's not straight.

Two trans people in an m/f relationship is not straight passing.

Two bi people in an m/f is not straight passing, it's queer babes, it's in the name. If you're bi and your partner is like, straight, it's still queer from your side of the fence.

It's the 'pick a side' argument from another direction, this straight passing nonsense. Where you are villified by the straights if you have a same-sex relationship (or fetishised, let's be real, every part of the acronymn has it's own p*rn category aimed at straight people with a kink), and if you have a relationship with the opposite gendered person, the queer community gets cranky.

Two things:

1) Is this friend between 13 and 25? Bc they could still be working this out or being mentored by t*rfs, or had some bad info. IT could be jealousy or fear of being open where you live. Perhaps you could question what makes her say that; has she had a bad experience, or did someone say this to her. where are you Are you in america? are there snake wielding jesus warriors near you? Blink SOS if you need an escape route, child

2) Who wins when everyone in the queer community is divided and policing one another? Telling everyone off for dating this person or that person or not at all

I didn't get an invite to the big queer conference to make these decisions, so like, they're not valid. It's some pocket of internet active idiots who think they can speak for everyone.

What we need to do is stop pulling this bullshit on one another and get back to asking just why the fuck it's not okay for people who are perceived as not-straight or cis etc to hold hands in public.

There's a problem for every facet of the acronym, babes and dudes and theys. Lesbians are heavily sexualised by straight cis dudes. Gays are heavly fetisihed by straight cis women. to the point where even saying 'I'm gay' is considered to be an obscene, sexual act that you should not let children be exposed to.

And there's always someone from the opposite gender who thinks they 'are confused' or 'haven't met the right (gender) person yet', or 'they could fix them with their magic genitals' or mumbled religious nonsense. There's such intense stereotypes that people can't stand women who look butch, but also you can't 'really' be a lesbian unless you are' or gay men can't just be, like, a normal dude, instead of some flamboyant in-your-face charicature.

Of course people who match the stereotype exist, too. And they get no respect for fitting into the stereptypes either, it's just another reason for disrespect. There's no winning.

Bi's can't talk to anyone without hearing a question of a threesome come up or being attacked from either side for coice of partner.

Pans, same, but also kitchenware jokes. Both Bi and Pan are considered sluts and whores and can't decide or are going to cheat, etc. Or the 'you're being special snowflakes', 'choose a side', 'you're secretly gay and won't admit / you're secretly straight and want attention' etc.

Ace/Aro - everyone under this banner gets the whole 'you just haen't found the right person' or 'when you're older/you're a late bloomer' or 'how do you know?' or 'maybe you're straight/gay and haven't worked it out yet?' invalidating them completely and trying to push sex onto them. The queer community has always let Ace and Aro in under the Bi banner, and they are welcome. But the internet community, usually young people, are tearing each other to shreds over it lmao.

Chill.

Non-binary, trans, intersex. They have been here for ages, but people from one community try to destroy their credibility, despite them existing since humanity has. It's big on p*rn and fetish sites too, lot of straight dudes think these things are hot and sexy, but would spit on trans people in the street. Hypocrites (I mean, every second low-brow comedy movie out there makes a thai-l*dyb*y joke, and how it 'doesn't count' like yikes).

Nb has only just been recognised, which is funny bc society literally made up gender and the rules and pretended that was how its encoded in DNA lmao.

Transpeople have it bad though. Between the cis straights, the cis queer community (primarily t*rfs and those who fall for misinformation) and the fetishists, and the medical community who treats them like an illness rather than people. Like, they are afforded respect if they 'pass', but even then it's still an EW factor.

Transwomen are seen as 'men in dresses who want to break into women's spaces' and treated horrifically; assaults are very high. Transmen are seen as butch women, and 'gender tr*itors' by the Crazy Motherfuckers we mentioned before; their assaults are high. They're not considered Real People unless they meet the ridiculously high standards for each gender; unless they perform Right.

I remember, but did not understand at the time bc I recall i was little, that there was a gameshpw bachelorette style and there was a big twist. You know what the twist was? That the bachelorette they'd been dating and trying to win over... was trans. I don't think that she knew it would be the big twist, either; of the two men remaining, bother were angry and one might have been sick. Might be on youtube.

But like, that's funny to the non-queer community. They put a huge fucking target on this woman's back, put her in danger of being hurt, abused, killed, by anyone who watched it. By the men who she had 'lied to' as they chose to frame it, of their weird white american families who could have sought revenge. Like yikes.

And intersex people (called h*rmaphrodites for a long time even by medical personnel) were also a p*rn category and/or medical curiosity for centuries. Not to mention all the cases of parents who just went with 'make them a (specific gender)' if there was mixed presentation, at birth, and got mad at the kids for being like "Hey so, you flipped the coin wrong and I'm ___" even thought the potential for this was always on the cards.

And the parents often make a big messa bout how their baby ___ is dead and gone, even if they DO accept the person/child as who they really are. It's like, I get it they have changed but you didn't mourn their first haircut or lost baby tooth like this and that was change too, chill.

-

Straight-passing is a projection and a weapon. Like, is it the people in the relationship's fault that society looks at the pair and decides they are m/f, straight and cis? Nah, it's what people are conditioned assume and that's on them.

We can't bring it into the queer spaces and keep perpetuating that shit, because it's nonsense. Queer people are dying in other countries and your friend wants to being smart-assed about the fact you hold hands with your nb datemate in public?

-

Nonsense. That's right up there with t*rfs and the gold-star bullshit that was going on for a few years there. Probs still is among the younger people lmaoooo.

'Passing priviledge' is a myth, and it is used to hurt people. Vulnerable people and those who need support / guidance and assistance from their queer communities more than ever. So try to talk to your friend or try The Whole Friend disposal services, either way, chill.

The real issue here is that any of us are at risk of a hate crime for daring to even show affection in public. That even in safe spaces, 'allies' and those wise enough not to be openly homo/trans/bi/pan/ace/aro/other phobic are still side-eyeing you and wanting to talk 'for you' without listening to the community itself.

We have bigger issues than this, and your friend (and some others on the internet) need to get a grip and prioritise.

[Insert strained analogy about being pro-child but childfree in a suburb where everyone got married out of high school and anticipates you and your partner will too, no matter how often you remind them No Thanks. But you babysat the other day and people thought you and your partner looked like 'naturals' when you took child to the park and played with them. And you remind them, hey, chill, we like kids too but it's not for us. And they get pissy and pushy.]

---------

I can only point it out from my perspective, I'm certain there other queer people from the above acronymn community who can present their thoughts on the matter to and what it means to them.

Thanks for the question, good-bi.

[makeste]

“I came here to find what it is that I lack.”

hey everyone, so can we talk about this?

this is the first time that Katsuki has talked about his own personal shortcomings to such an extent. he’s flirted with acknowledging them out loud before, at the provisional course, and we know he’s been working on improving himself, because we saw the change during the joint training arc. but this is the first time he has actually come right out and admitted that there is something he knows he’s missing, and that his goal now is to find it.

so there are two parts of this that I want to break down and discuss. let’s start with this:

“I’ve learned that just because I’m strong in a fight, that doesn’t mean I’m strong as a person.”

JBox translated this as “I’ve learned that pure strength isn’t enough to become strong.” I’m curious as to how Viz will word it. but it’s Mangastream’s translation that really piqued my interest. “that doesn’t mean I’m strong as a person.” correct me if I’m wrong, but I think this is the first time Katsuki has ever talked about himself as a person at all. up to this point he’s seemed to have zero interest in any kind of self-reflection. and even now, he’s still bringing it up in a context of strength. he needs to be “strong” as a person because that will help him become stronger as a hero. but regardless of how he frames it, or whether or not he’s only seeking it because it pertains to his goal of surpassing the number one, this is still huge IMO for him to bring up strength of character and acknowledge that it’s still something that’s eluding him.

and it’s not like this hasn’t been brought to his attention before. for all of his strengths, his personality is the one thing that’s been consistently singled out by virtually everyone he’s ever met as a glaring fault. and yet he doesn’t seem to have ever given this real thought until recently. possibly because he didn’t think it actually mattered in the big picture. or maybe it’s because until recently, he was able to shrug off those accusations because he knew that deep down he was good where it really counted. like, yeah, he might swear a lot and he might not get along with people and maybe his temper gets the better of him at times. but he was able to brush that off because he knows deep down that he’s a hero. and not just any hero, but the person who’s going to become the best hero. and so he had faith in his own integrity, and didn’t let other people’s perceptions bother him, because who the hell cares what anyone else thinks.

but note that I did say “until recently.” because in the last six months or so story-wise, a lot has changed. things which have sent little parachutes of self-doubt sailing over Katsuki’s formerly impenetrable walls of indifference. he was singled out as a target by villains. yeah, they were wrong about him, but it still says something that they thought he was a good prospect. and not just them, but everyone. the press gathered together less than 48 hours after a child was kidnapped, and felt comfortable speculating about whether or not said child was unhinged and destined to follow the villain path. yeah, Aizawa shot them down, but Katsuki still got a behind-the-scenes documentary feature look at how some of the actions he’d never before given a second thought to were actually affecting the world’s judgment of his moral character.

and then All Might lost his power at Kamino. something which Katsuki felt was his fault. and then, directly on the heels of that, there was the shock of realizing that the childhood friend he’d maligned and tormented for years had ended up being All Might’s chosen successor. and there are so many ways that Katsuki could have responded to that realization. being jealous of Deku. being derisive of All Might’s choice. but instead, his reaction to learning Deku had it right was to immediately follow it up with: so I’m wrong. and just, wow, though. and then, of course, this was all compounded even more when he failed the provisional license exam. so now we have the villains, the general public, and the heroes -- or at least, the people in charge of deciding who gets to be a hero -- all hitting him up with various different versions of you are flawed, you are deficient.

anyway, thankfully at this point he did something he’s never done before and actually reached out to someone, even if it was in the most shounen way ever (“should I just talk to my rival like a normal person? nah I’ll challenge him to a fight”). and he and Deku had a heart to heart via their fists, and then All Might gave him a hug and some good mentor advice. so the worst of that line of thinking was curbed before it could become more damaging. and he seems to have rebounded since and is back to his old confident ways.

buuuuuut. we have seen him paying more attention to other people’s remarks than he seemed to before. maybe this was something he always did, but just pretended like he didn’t. hard to say. but there’s no denying the way that Horikoshi made it a Thing during the Band AU arc, when we saw those upperclassman grousing about how “class 1-A is the one causing all the trouble” and then Katsuki listening in, stony-faced. and then he got really pissed off and ranted about it afterward.

so yeah. and then more recently, during the joint training arc, we also had that incident where Monoma -- on camera, with Katsuki watching, and we know for a fact there was sound because U.A. based their teaching model on The Hunger Games, and also the kids were able to hear Shinsou’s voice-changing shenanigans earlier -- was all “SO HOW ABOUT THAT TIME THAT BAKUGOU CAUSED THE DOWNFALL OF THE SYMBOL OF PEACE, EH.” which marked the first time we confirmed that Katsuki isn’t the only one who’s made that connection. mind you, I don’t think Monoma actually meant it; he was just trying to rile Deku up into talking so he could pull the ol’ Jedi mind trick. but still, the fact that he had that remark ready to go means that it must have crossed his mind before. and at this point I think it’s pretty safe to say he’s not the only one. it’s an obvious enough conclusion to draw, and society was a hot mess for a while following Kamino, and it was the kind of thing where I’m sure that a lot of people, shaken up in the aftermath of this disaster and struggling to process it, would be looking to assign blame.

so now Katsuki, who formerly did not give a shit and was very proud and upfront about his lack of shit-giving, has been more or less forced to confront the fact that like it or not, his behavior -- and other people’s perceptions of it -- maybe matters a little more than he thought. and it seems like maybe he’s become a bit more sensitive to that lately. a little more aware.

I think it must be frustrating for him in some ways, because he knows that he’s good and that his intentions are good, but he has difficulty conveying that. and the other thing is that he’s not the type of boy to ever have people actually say to him, “hey, you’re a nice guy.” (Kirishima, I think, is the only one that might have actually said that sentence to him -- I feel like he has? -- and honestly there’s a reason why Katsuki trusts him so much, and things like this are no small part of it.) “amazing”, sure. he gets that all the time. and “strong”, which is the adjective he himself uses the most when talking about things he admires. but never good. and he might not ever show any signs of needing that type of reinforcement, but (a) sometimes we don’t know that we need something, especially if it’s something we’ve never had before, and (b) even if Katsuki was in any way adept at identifying his emotional needs (he’s not), the odds of him ever mustering up the will to actually ask are slim to say the least.

but no child wants to be bad. Katsuki’s one and only desire since he was very little has been to become a great hero. and heroes are inherently good. this boy, for all his surliness and stubbornness and toeing-the-line, works hard. he listens to his teachers. he studies. he fights fairly, and shows honor in other ways (like fessing up immediately to being the first one to throw a punch). he shows kindness and gratitude and concern in his own prickly ways as well. his goodness isn’t the kind that comes up to you and slaps you in the face, but it still manages to shine through like sunlight through a cloudy filter. he is a good person. and I think that sometimes, during his more intense moments of self-doubt, he may have wondered if maybe he’s not. but he is.

and having said all of that, one of the things I would like to see at some point in the future is for someone to actually tell him that. for him to get that validation. because I think that’s something he’s seeking, even if he’s not aware of it. even now he still has the media censoring his interviews, as if they’re worried he’ll somehow corrupt the viewers with his attitude. even though the whole reason he’s being interviewed is because he proved himself through his actions. somehow it’s still not enough. so I just think it’s something that would mean a lot to him to hear. “you are strong, but also you’re a good person.” so yeah. All Might, maybe -- get on that.

moving on now to the second part of this essay!

“I came here to find what it is that I lack.”

you know what I find interesting about this? at first glance, one might assume that he’d already solved this mystery. doy, the kid that only ever thought about winning and victory has to learn how to help others. we got that already; All Might broke it down for us nice and clear back in chapter 120. we’re good.

and the thing is, it really seems like we are good, doesn’t it? Katsuki passed his remedial exam with flying colors. he and Todo saved a bunch of would be purse-snatching victims, and he even saved their wallets (that makes it sound like he got them to save 15% or more by switching to Geico lol but NO, IN THIS CASE IT WAS LITERAL). and let’s not forget that dominant performance during the joint training arc, in which he both allowed himself to be rescued, and breezily rescued others with no qualm. by all measures, it would appear that he has embraced this new way of heroing, and seems to be taking to it as naturally as he takes to everything else.

so then the question arises: if he already figured out that IT’S THE RESCUING, STUPID, then why is he still talking about “what he lacks” as though there is still something he’s missing? and not just missing, but as-yet-unidentified to boot. he doesn’t actually know what it is. he’s trying to figure it out.

so I have a few guesses, but since this essay is already running long, I’m just going to jump right to my main one: what he’s talking about is the difference between this:

and this

in a very similar way to how Katsuki himself proved there was such a big difference between this

and this

“the difference between those who are aiming for the top, and everyone else.” so yeah. and if this applies to the “winning” part of the hero equation, then it also stands to reason it should apply to the “rescue” part as well, right?

so what would that mean? basically, as far as I can tell, it’s the difference between your everyday rescuing, and between Deku’s style of rescuing. no, I’m not talking about the bone-breaking. I’m talking about, “my legs just started moving. why? I dunno!” or, as All Might puts it, “their bodies simply moved before they could think.”

what Deku has is not just the will to rescue. it’s the instinct to rescue. in the same way that Kacchan uses his quirk intuitively to reach ever greater heights, what Deku does intuitively is to save and protect others. he is unrivaled in this. his instinct to rescue surpasses even All Might’s. and this is what makes him great.

what Katsuki is doing right now is rescuing on the balanced, sensible, government-approved level of things. which is fine! admirable, even. but compared to what Deku has, it’s the same as Monoma’s will to win pitted against Katsuki’s own utterly indomitable will, which is completely illogical and excessive in exactly the right type of way, and is what drives him to the levels of excellence that he’s achieved. Deku’s will to rescue is like that. it’s on a whole different level.

and I think one of the biggest things I can say in praise of Katsuki is that he is not yet satisfied with where he is in terms of his moral strength. he understands that there’s a level he has yet to unlock and achieve. something that he isn’t yet grasping. and I’m pretty sure this is what it is. and if that’s the case, then he’s in luck, because I think it’s safe to say there will be plenty of opportunities in the near future to hone his own rescue instincts. Deku didn’t really start to approach Kacchan’s own levels of WIN NO MATTER WHAT until his battle with Muscular, and the key thing that made the difference there was the stakes. needless to say, in this latest arc, we have stakes aplenty. 

and all it takes is one moment. for there to be something to be on the line which Kacchan realizes in a moment of clarity that he can’t lose. something to trigger his own instant of my body just moved on its own. and then from there? who even knows. but it’ll be a sight to see.

so that is my [checks notes] 2600-word essay about Kacchan’s 75-word speech in chapter 247. to sum up, what I want for my son in this arc is for things to finally click for him to get that moment of Hero Autopilot, and also for other people to get with the program and acknowledge what a good kid he is, goddammit. even if he gets embarrassed. or embarrasses them immediately afterward by demonstrating exactly how good of a kid he is by blowing up the nearest inanimate object and launching into colorful tirades about someone’s mother. Bakugou is basically like a poorly wrapped Christmas gift. ugly on the outside, doesn’t quite look right when stacked next to the other gifts, but once you rip that sucker open TAH DAH, IT’S THAT BRAND NEW THING YOU WANTED! and it kicks all the other gifts’ asses. what more could you want in a character lol.

[shouta-aizawow]

Long BNHA-related rant ahead, but imma organize my thoughts :)

Bakugou should not have failed the provisional licensing exam.

Katsuki failed this exam because he spoke roughly to the “victims”.

If this is enough to not get a hero license, then every single hero at the scene during the sludge villain incident, at the sports festival and/or that got to Katsuki during the kidnapping should have their licenses revoked.

None of these heroes comforted Katsuki, and none of these heroes tried to get the villain to safety. They watched or they were the cause of his suffering. Katsuki was just doing what had been done to him time and time again.

Not to mention, during the rescue portion of the exam, he able to prioritize. Getting to the most injured victims is more important than comforting someone that has a broken arm. Sure, they might think it’s a big deal, but even with doctors, they don’t sit there and comfort everyone in an accident. They go find the person that’s hurt the most. Katsuki was not wrong. Sure, he could’ve worded it better, but to fail?

Side note: This reminds me of the rescue training OVA. Everyone was standing around chatting, and Bakugou decided to leave them and walk into the building to find the dummy, and Ochako calls him self-centered? When he was the one that knew that chatting wasn’t doing anything in their favor? He really can’t win...

(I’ll keep silent on the people I believe should have failed/come close to failing)

Bakugou is treated poorly by nearly everyone in BNHA.

Katsuki is angry. He’s angry a lot.

Katsuki was canonically raised by violence (from what we’ve seen and heard him say).

Katsuki has been in the center of numerous traumatic events.

But he’s angry, right? He’s angry a lot.

He’s angry a lot, so people seem to think that it’s not valid every single time. He’s angry a lot, so he’s not taken seriously. He’s angry a lot, so people treat him like they know him more than he knows himself.

He’s angry a lot, and the characters and the antis never ask why. They never look at all the facts that contribute to his feelings. They never put themselves in his shoes.

They see an angry child, and they stop there. (Sometimes they stop after angry, forgetting that Katsuki is a child.)

This is apparent both in and out of BNHA, and it’s so frustrating how if people perceive anger to be your most felt emotion/if you feel angry a lot, then it’s not valid each and every time.

People care about the cookie cutter kind kids, not the angry ones, and this causes people to not feel heard and to be disregarded.

Looking/being kind doesn’t automatically make you the best.

Looking/being mean doesn’t automatically make you the worst.

I’d argue that Katsuki has PTSD from these events, or, if not, we canonically know that the kidnapping has impacted him immensely.

But he’s angry a lot, so people don’t care.

He gets blamed for things he can’t control and hit by his mother, but “he shouts back! It’s part of his culture! It’s part of his culture and he shouts back, so it’s fine!”

1) Being a part of someone’s culture doesn’t make it right. Yes, I like good parents Mitsuki and Masaru just as much as the next guy, but that doesn’t mean that I’m going to overlook what’s right in front of me and what I hear (remember: he said he was raised in violence). A kid isn’t born angry. Either a chemical imbalance, their environment, or both plays a role. Don’t ignore it because anger isn’t validated in the eyes of others.

2) So what if he yells back? Being hit, being called names, and being blamed for something I can’t control has happened to me, and almost always I shouted back. That does not mean that it hasn’t affected my mental health and self worth. I am always labeled as the angry child. Because of this, when I’m sad or when I’m angry, no one cares unless they’re equally impacted.

Me not being listened to? Doesn’t matter.

Be getting hurt by someone physically or emotionally? Doesn’t matter.

Me being in a bad mood? Doesn’t matter.

But it does matter if it impacts someone else.

It does matter if I don’t listen in return. It does matter if I tell someone and interrupt whatever they’re doing. It does matter if I don’t want to talk to someone and they want to talk to/bother me.

It does matter, but not the fact that I’m feeling this way.

All they know is that I’m angry and it’s affecting them.

But they don’t help me, no. They don’t ask why, they don’t want to hear why.

They just see a child that feels anger a lot and tell them everything that’s wrong with them, because “you’re feeling this way, but I don’t like it”.

This is exactly how it is with Katsuki.

Katsuki’s emotions are extremely valid, but it’s ignored because every other character he interacts with seems so optimistic.

Yeah, they’ve been in traumatic events, but in the span of about a year, Katsuki has suffered, and no one looks past the angry appearance to ask the real questions of why he feels that way.

Being angry doesn’t make you a bad person, but no one in BNHA seems to understand that. (And almost no one in real life does either).

Okay, so I’m gonna briefly mention what I don’t like about other characters (All Might and Deku), so skip this and go to the 🛑 if you don’t want to see it!

Midoriya Izuku

Honestly, I find that with Deku, Hori does a lot of telling and not a lot of showing. Like we’re told he’s kind and we’re told he’s analytical. In reality, so many characters have basically dumped their trauma on Deku and he just replies with “yeah that sucks” or he doesn’t reply at all. With his analytical skills, sure he comes up with plans, but they’re really basic plans. (And extremely reckless at that.)

One thing that I cannot wrap my head around is how every character automatically trusts Deku without any complaints.

Deku is given everything, and I get that he’s the protagonist, but it’s like he has no struggles to reach the top. Like, sure he had that bone breaky thing, but he hears Gran Torino talk about some food not heating up all the way and all of a sudden he’s almost mastered AFO?

Deku should not have gotten so high on the entrance exam, and he should not be at the top of his class in terms of quirk use.

Deku is not 100% innocent in his and Katsuki’s relationship. Bnha is from Deku’s pov, so of course things would look all innocent of his side (especially with his lack of introspection as he only changes when someone else says something, but that’s a rant for another time)

Deku is not good at being inspirational, in my opinion, and I think that his hero-worshipping self should not have been the type of comfort that Eri and Kota needed.

Not a bad thing, but Deku doesn’t even mind Katsuki’s “you might as well take a swan dive off of the roof” comment (that people blow way out of proportion, but sure), so I don’t understand why people are so angry about that scene.

All Might

I don’t like how All Might knocks out Katsuki for pushing himself even if he breaks and whatnot, because Midoriya does that literally every fight, and All Might stays silent.

All Might told Katsuki that he was at a level 50 and Deku was at a level 1 and that was why he’s catching up so quickly as if he didn’t just give Deku the quirk of the number one hero as well as about 6 other quirks.

All Might is a terrible mentor and should not be a teacher. He only cares about his students (especially with Katsuki) when it affects Deku directly, and he doesn’t teach Deku any skills that would help him live longer and actually save people. (Noted in Deku’s highkey terrible handling of the fight during the Eri and Kota situation).

🛑

Okay, before I end this, I have some final things I want to say.

Everyone talks to Bakugou like they know him more than he knows himself.

I don’t understand when people say that Bakugou tormented and “suicide baited” Deku all his life, because we only got, like, 1.5 scenes of him being mean to Deku, everything else was just them hanging out, and he didn’t suicide bait Deku at all, please learn what that means before you use it.

Some of the same people bashing Katsuki are the ones stanning villains and saying that they should get off scot free or comparing him to Endeavor. I don’t understand this. How are you excusing serial killers and comparing an abuser to a child that was mean a couple times? Make it make sense, because right now, the double standards are real.

Done! (For now >:D)

There’s a lot of things that I could’ve said, but we’d be here all week if I mentioned everything, so, please settle with this long post!

Note: I don’t hate Deku nor All Might. I just relate to Katsuki a lot more, and I highkey dislike a lot of aspects of those twos’ characters.

[sweetsubharry]

hiiii, do u have any fic recommendation for highschool aus?

Hiya! 💕 yes I do! It’s one of my favourite classic aus :) Just as a warning! There’s 36 fics under the read more tag so it’s a longer style post! I hope you like these! and just in case no one reads it at the end I’ll say it up here too! Make sure you read the tags and stay safe!

I was also unsure if any set in hogwarts counted? or any with a/b/o elements so I left them out but if anyone wants those too just send in an ask :)

You Can be My Cliche by DreamWeaver14

Basically Lou and Hazza are best friends and Louis is jealous and overly protective... But it all works out in the end once Lou and Harry have movie night. SMUT

Free with You Tonight by sunniskies

Harry's 16 and sophomore, Louis is a senior and his best friend, but somehow Harry's not sure that's enough anymore.

Essentially, high school au fluff involving first kisses and Niall mixing bad drinks.

A Real Work of Art by lululawrence

“I don’t understand,” Liam said for probably the fiftieth time in ten minutes. “You have to explain again how this is a bad thing.”

“Leeeeyummm,” Harry whined into the phone as he leaned his head onto his desk. “I felt like this year was my year for getting his attention, you know? That senior year I would finally get Logan Thompson to realize I exist! But he’s in almost every single one of my classes, Li. How am I supposed to survive that?”

“Easily,” Liam answered, with the same matter of fact tone his voice always took when Harry was in one of his fits. “He doesn’t know you exist, so it shouldn’t be a problem. Right?”

Or the one where Harry calls on an old friend, the super popular Louis Tomlinson, to help him change his look to capture the heart of Logan. Things only mostly go as planned.

into another (another) serotonin overflow by mercutionotromeo

Harry wants this year to be different - wants it to be the year that he finally gets over this stupid crush. He’s going to uni, he needs to decide what he wants to do with his life.

Instead, he’s deciding what he wants to do to Louis Tomlinson.

Or: Sweet first time sex wherein Harry's adorably awkward, Louis is achingly cool, and Harry rides Louis wearing his jersey.

My love, he makes me feel like nobody else, nobody else by SilverShadow1

Harry was invited to a high school end-of-term party where he's ready to let loose, get drunk and perhaps regret his choices, or not.

OR

The one where Harry screams, 'Daddy!' at a party and what follows is the best night of his life.

Kiss me by carebearlarrie

Where Harry does a TikTok challenge and kisses his crush (Louis) ft. sweater paw Harry.

Because We Can by KrisStylinson

Harry's the bizzare new kid who likes flowers too much, Louis' the epitome of punk who's not as smooth as he seems. Those two things shouldn't mix as beautifully as they do.

A nice, long journey through Harry and Louis' intersecting lives, starting with the day they meet in high school—including meddling friends, a Styles-Tomlinson family Christmas, a first time, and a couple's holiday in Paris.

You're Still The One I Run To. by brooklynbis

Harry's favourite weather by a mile was snow. There was something about the cold flakes of snow that was just so peaceful. The few times he had experienced snow, everything just stopped for a few days.

There was one thing Harry hated about the snow, however. Having to try and get home in it.

________________________

AKA it snows and Harry and Louis get stranded at college. Fluff and lots of cuddling ensues.

Way to Your Heart by fallenflowercrowns

High school AU, where Louis is in a band and Harry likes to come to the rehearshals for no particular reason. Punk Louis with a lot of tattoos and everything. Shy Harry with an angel face and not many friends. Strangers to lovers. Quick sex in the rehearshals' room (just handjob or blowjob) Happy end.

Harry pines but is oblivious, Louis is a punk with a big heart, Ziam shag behind everyone's backs and Nick is actually not in love with Harry.

All I want for christmas is you by Tita

The one where Louis is a pining punk, Harry is the school’s sweetheart, and a miss sent text at a Christmas party turns out to be the best possible present.

Can I Walk Your Cute Face To Class by orphan_account

It's Harry's first day of High School and he's nervous. He meets Louis.

Or

They meet and they have lunch together but they don't actually eat anything. (and it's not because I forgot that's what people generally do during lunch.. not at all)

Touch by kotabear24

Harry's shy and virginal with a past, new on the football team; Louis' the (experienced) popular star of the team and Harry's new mentor.

All I Need is Oxygen (and You) by lululawrence

There are only two ways to navigate Bloomfield High School: become popular or make yourself invisible.

With the help of his best mate Niall, Harry’s introduction to high school hadn’t been half bad. Despite being a “bandie” – the lowest of the low in the ancient hierarchy of high school –Harry had somehow managed to survive freshman year relatively unscathed. So naturally, Harry would have been perfectly happy to resume his position of invisible trombone player number four for the remainder of high school. But one day something drastic happened, something that would change the course of Harry’s entire existence (probably).

It was the last football game of his freshman year, and the band was back in the stands after performing a rousing rendition of Bloomfield’s alma mater during half time. Harry was gracelessly wiping the slobber from the mouthpiece of his trombone when he saw him.

Louis Tomlinson.

Or...a High School AU where Harry is a bandie and Louis is the epitome of cool, so naturally, Harry must find a way to get his attention and win his affections.

I don't care where we go, just keep me close by Eversincefiveboys

Louis has to go on summer camp and he absolutely doesn't want to because he is 16 and too old for this. Then he meets the boy with the curls and the dimples and suddenly he doesn't want this camp to be over 

Maybe it's All Part of a Plan by promisingstyles

Christmas High School AU. Harry is sick, Louis talks way too much and much too fast. They meet in the toilets. 

I made a map of your stars by brightbluelou   

Harry does not have a crush on Louis Tomlinson. Yes, Louis is very pretty and funny, and Harry may have had more than a few inappropriate thoughts about him, but he certainly doesn’t like him. (Except for the fact that he totally does.) or, Harry is the shy boy in the back of the class that no one really notices. Louis is the loud, outgoing football player that everybody likes. 

All Part of the Plan by alwaysinmyheartlarry   

Harry Styles is a member of the marching band who has an insane crush on Louis Tomlinson--the amazing senior who plays on the varsity football team at school. 

We’re on Fire Now (And I Could Burn in it All Day) by orphan_account   

“Thanks, Harry.” His voice is as soft as silk when he replies and Harry is so tempted to kiss him there and then, but would feel too much like he is taking advantage of Louis’ vulnerability in that moment. “Now let’s bake some fucking cookies.” He removes his hand and Louis lets go of his wrist, laughing. “Hearing you swear is so wrong. It’s like an angel punching someone in the face. It just doesn’t fit.” Harry gasps in mock offense. “I’ll have you know I swear all the time. I’m a right rebel.” Louis laughs again, bright and beautiful, and Harry smiles down at him.

or

A shameless high school AU where Louis is a footballer, Harry is a photographer, Liam is blissfully unaware and Niall is his usual self.

first position, the mood is set by hiswittlehands

Louis bites down on his lip. "You...god, they look so good on you. Shows off your arse and your...your thighs, Haz." He runs his hand along the skin there then, relishing how soft and pliant it is even with all the muscle. "They shouldn't have even let you play. Should, should have sent you straight home for...fuck, indecency or breaking the dress code or summat."

Or, I literally have no idea what the fuck I just wrote but it involves dodgeball, short shorts, and thigh fucking.

(i didn't mean to) fall in love tonight by zouisclimax

Harry texts him back a thumbs up emoji before leaning forward and throwing up again. He groans, but stands after he’s done, wiping his mouth with toilet paper, and flushing the toilet.

He washes his mouth out as best as he can before steeling himself and heading back to class, trying his best not to cry. He tells himself that there is no point in worrying when he doesn’t even know if there is anything to worry about yet.

He still feels sick.

[or, the American boarding school AU where Harry's infatuated with Louis and one night flips his whole world upside-down]

falling for you, i can't keep away by hegotthedagger

Harry wants Louis really bad and Louis might want him just as much.

I see the love light in your eyes by larrycaring

For as long as Harry can remember, Louis has always been his best friend.

There are a few constant things in Harry’s life: his family, this town he’s grown up in, and Louis.

He had his other friends, of course, but Louis had always been and still was the person that Harry was closest to. Maybe it was due to the fact that they live next to each other, and that, since the first night they’d talked, when he and Louis shared a conversation on their conjoining roofs, they instantly hit off, and a friendship developed. Or maybe it was that Louis was always so cheeky, almost the opposite of Harry, but it complimented Harry’s slow and thoughtful way of life perfectly. Either way, it just kind of happened.

or an AU where Louis and Harry are very much in love. Featuring football & late night rendezvous.

Translation of the fic in spanish by @lachrimose_: click here (wattpad) In russian by Hewassixteen: click here (ficbook)

You Have Bewitched Me, Body and Soul, and I Love, I Love, I Love You by Storyofmythigh

Harry is quiet. Louis isn’t.

Louis hates reading. Harry loves words.

They find a way.

Don't Stop Thinking About Tomorrow by 1Diamondinthesun

Harry spends most of his time in an empty house or a lonely darkroom, dreaming of leaving his small town for art school. He's invisible to most people. And then Louis Tomlinson sees him. Life will never be the same.

Or, the American high school AU loosely inspired by She's All That.

Kiss me (this feels like falling in love) by Ambros

- Five times Louis wanted to kiss Harry (and one time he did).

In This Light by kiwikero

Harry gets a position on the school yearbook staff, which is fine until he falls in love with Louis Tomlinson through the lens of his camera.

❤ For Effort by FallingLikeThis 

When Harry Styles lets his team down during gym class, resulting everyone having to run laps, he expects the worst. But the backlash never comes.

Harry's crush, Louis Tomlinson, may or may not have something to do with that.

Last First Kiss by Kikacat

High School AU in which Harry is outed and can't work out why no one seems to care, whilst also dealing with his crush. Super supportive family and friends. Trigger warning for some of the social media comments Harry receives. If I've missed any tags, let me know

let me get your heart racing by orphan_account

Even asleep, Harry finds himself so hooked to this boy. It’s crazy. Months ago, Louis wouldn’t have noticed him. He’s just an ordinary guy, so that’s no surprise. And Louis... Louis is everything.

Harry leaves immediately.

or a highschool au where Harry's sure that Louis will never fall for him, and where he's also wrong.

i’d burn this city down to show you the light by you_explode

Harry's a sheltered rich kid and Louis's a punk with a heart of gold. They meet when Louis breaks into Harry's house, Harry obtains an instant and all-encompassing crush, and they spend the summer falling into a whirlwind romance.

put your head on my shoulder by wayfared

Niall gives Harry until the end of marching season to either a) make a move on Louis Tomlinson or b) get the fuck over him. Either is easier said than done. Basically, your High School AU with a drum beat.

My Only Sunshine by DontLetHimGo

Harry and Louis have known each other since the start of everything.

When Harry is only a few weeks old, and Louis is two, the older boy is immediately intrigued by the little person in the carry cot. Jay knows that it will be difficult to keep her son away from her best friend's little boy.

Completely unaware (you make me smile) by deblond

Five times everyone thinks that Harry and Louis are dating (and the one time they are).

it's kinda hot in here by ballsdeepinjesus 

“Is that a moth on your stomach?”

or nerdy harry is hiding some stuff under his dorky clothes and louis fucks him in a locker room

we should get jerseys, 'cause we make a good team by ellisaco

Harry's not very good at football, but he's aces at cheering Louis on.

Youth Meant to Be Beautiful by Turtles

Highschool AU, Louis is the footy captain and Harry is a cheerleader. Cliche ahoy!

every december (your star lights the sky) by larrystomlinsons

Louis needs a date for the Christmas dance and Harry is the wingman that has feelings for him.

The Birds Still Sing by orphan_account

The thing is, Louis thinks he already knows Harry's secret. He just doesn't know how to tell him he knows.

every december (your star lights the sky) by larrystomlinsons

Louis needs a date for the Christmas dance and Harry is the wingman that has feelings for him.

Stay safe and read the tags guys!! ❤

[study-van]

hey! do you have any tips for getting into jhu for international students?

I don’t think there is a sure way of getting into top universities not gonna lie, especially if you are an international student who wants financial aid. One thing that I am sure that probably put me above most Turkish applicants was the fact that I attended their summer school and had the highest score in my course that I could get. I think giving an overview of my stats might be more helpful for you...(With these same stats I was also able to get accepted to other top institutions so I think it’s a pretty neat overview)

SAT: 1500+ (on the higher end)

GPA: 97.21(9th), 97.01(10th), 97.02(11th), 98.4(12th)

Languages: Turkish (native), English (Toefl 112), French (C1, when I applied), Japanese (N3)

I also passed 4 sat subjects and got 750+ from all of them. My school doesn’t offer any AP classes bc it’s a french school but I did take the exams individually.

So onto my extracurriculars and how I spent my free time.

I was part of our schools English drama club for my last three years and did MUN in 9th grade (winning one best delegate award). With the English drama club we've performed plays every year and I mainly got the leading roles, we also attended a theater activity thing in London. I also helped out at our school’s permaculture club pretty regularly because my friend was the president. In my senior year, I was also in the graduation committee which basically organized everything related to senior year (from t-shirts to our now cancelled prom). I was also briefly in school’s choir and helped organize this years student art fair for the teaching staff. Lastly, I was a mentor in the mentor/mentee program which was to help underclassmen specifically preps to better adapt to school. Outside of school, I was a volunteer at two organizations one concerning the environment (since I was 12), the other helps out kids with leukemia (since I was 15/16). I was pretty active in both of them mainly did work related to raising awareness. I also occasionally wrote articles for an online magazine. I have also been playing the violin for nearly 10 years and have completed all the levels of Royal Academy, I can also play the piano and the guitar albeit not to the level of my violin...(I am definitely forgetting some stuff here but I really don’t want to pull up my entire cv sdjsjdh)

For my breaks, during my prep year’s summer I went to a language school for a month in Rouen while staying with a French host family to further my French. At the end of ninth grade, I attended University of Toronto’s summer course for a month and after returning I did a monitoring internship next to a pediatrician. Tenth grade’s summer, I attended JHU’s summer school with a course related to hospitals and finished it with an A+, plus a constant pen mail friendship with a prof at the med school. Next winter, I took a first-aid course in Koc University. That summer, I first did an internship at a local hospital next to a neurosurgeon for a week, then attended Koc University’s “24h Med School” program, which was only open to one or two students from specific high schools, after that I attended Harvard summer school taking a course about evolutionary biology/medicine, and ended it with getting a recommendation from a faculty member. The next fall, I did an another internship at an another local hospital monitoring their surgical department. (Again I think I forgot some more trivial stuff but these are the big boys)

The last part of the application and probably where you can set yourself apart from rest of the brilliant applicants is the essays. My main essay in common app was about escape rooms while connecting that to my passion about cryptology and how that affects the way I perceive the world (honestly one of my finest essays) that I worked on for nearly all summer. Then there are school specific ones so for Stanford, I think I wrote 11 or 10 essays some only 50 word, some over 150 words. Hopkins only wanted one 300-400 words essay about a time you collaborated since it is a part of Hopkins’ culture. I wrote about my time in their summer camp again highlighting why they were my top pick and how I was able to handle their academic environment without getting overly competitive and actually working with my peers. (For our quizzes and in class notes, we basically opened one google doc where everyone put their notes and we had these study sessions all together, pretty neat).

Hopefully, this gives you an idea on what you need. If you’ve further questions, please do dm me or send an another ask!!

[politicaltheatre]

Dissent

We’ll know soon enough what kind of Supreme Court Justice Amy Coney Barrett will be. Senate Democrats will stall the proceedings as much as they can and try to drag things out so a confirmation vote can’t be taken until after the election, but we must accept that the odds and senate protocols are against them.

Publicly, Democrats up and down the ticket are claiming that their fear is that a Barrett confirmation will kill the Affordable Care Act (ACA) in the middle of a pandemic, and they very well may be right. That, however, isn’t their true fear.

The one they’ll voice when Barrett gets in front of them and the TV cameras is that she would support her benefactor Donald Trump in any lawsuit his people file in their attempts to decide the election through the courts, which they most certainly will do.

Trump’s already said as much. It’s part of his campaign pitch. He’s boasting about it at rallies. He’s counting on it.

As stupid as he often appears, and as stupid as he is about so many things, Trump understands corruption. He lives it and breathes it. He is a bona fide expert in it, so we should listen.

What he, Mitch McConnell, and others who embrace corruption understand is what far too many of us refuse to admit, which is that there is no such thing as an independent judiciary, that there is no such thing as an impartial judge.

This is not to suggest that Judge Barrett is corrupt. The awful truth of it is that she doesn’t have to be. She is reliably right wing, which is more than enough.

Barrett clerked for Justice Antonin Scalia. Like her mentor, she believes that the law does not exist to protect the weak from the strong. It does not exist, in their world, to reduce or correct imbalances of power. It is, instead, an instrument and only that, one by which the capable may exercise their will over others.

As brilliant as he was and as brilliant as she may be, theirs is the law of the school debate team. To them, winning isn’t about being right, it’s about domination. You can be wrong, morally and reprehensibly, but know the law and know how to wield it as a weapon and you will dominate your opponent time and again.

It is the triumph of short term thinking. To those embracing this view, there is nothing beyond that victory, no consequence beyond it, and no effect on the world beyond it.

If you think they’re wrong, prove it. Challenge them. Bend precedent to your will. Apply the logic of allowable facts. Prepare better. Go for the jugular. Destroy your enemy or meekly and silently accept your defeat.

Theirs is a faithless law, even more so because it divorces the law from the humans its verdicts, opinions, and decisions affect.

It is strange, then, but not surprising that Republicans and their surrogates have preemptively sought to place resistance to Barrett’s nomination on her religion. Their hope is to obscure the beliefs that truly make her dangerous, the irony being that Catholicism is not truly at the root of it.

Yes, there are strains and sects of Catholicism that preach the virtues of authority and hierarchy. These are the ones that sided with the fascists in their rise to power in Europe and protected sexually abusive clergy for so very, very long.

There are, however, also dissenting branches, including the one currently led by Pope Francis, that preach compassion and the virtues of equality. It was the former that led to those centuries of abuse and institutional corruption; it is the latter, we should all hope Catholics and non-Catholics alike, that will redeem the Church of both.

So, while Barrett’s affinity for a brand of Catholicism that embraces authority and power as chief virtues may inform her legal opinions, it is not what motivates them. That motivation, again, would be an honest, sincere belief that the right to demand accountability resides exclusively with those who have the power to demand it and the resources to dominate those in their way.

Trump may not have thought this through as thoroughly as that. McConnell may not have either, for that matter. All McConnell cares about is having judges in place who will protect him and corrupt people in power just like him. All Trump cares about is having judges who will protect him and him alone.

Oh, and that this pick is big “fuck you” to Justice Ruth Bader Ginsberg and everyone who adores her still. Trump loves that, too.

What Ginsberg represented, more than simply being a woman with the gumption to tell men like Trump and McConnell that they were wrong, was the power of dissent.

Dissent is more than just an exercise in freedom of speech, it is an act of empowerment, both for those voicing their disagreement and for the institutions in which they voice them. The purpose of dissent is to improve the institution, to save it from the corruption that would bring it down.

Ginsberg believed that whatever was wrong in the United States, it could and should be saved. To suggest that something could and should be improved is not disloyal but courageous. To criticize an institution is not pessimistic but the opposite, because to criticize it you must believe than it has the ability to improve.

That wish for the institution to be saved and to succeed is essential to dissent. It cannot be dissent without it.

By that measure, a lot of kinds of protest are dissent, and a lot of others very much are not. Refusing to wear a mask in a store, for example, is not dissent. Driving your car through a protest is not dissent. Silencing a reporter is not dissent. Cheating on your taxes is not dissent (Actually, cheating on anything is not dissent. Breaking the rules just because you want to win is despicable).

All of these examples undermine the communities in which we live. They pit us against each other and as a result weaken the bonds we need as a society in order to survive.

So, dissent is essential, it is part of our immune system, and in a democracy it is everything.

The legal right to dissent is relatively new to the human experience. Just a few centuries ago, speaking out against an authority’s decision was almost (and literally) unheard of. The opinions and decisions of powerful men and women from monarchs and clerics down to local landowners were absolute. To challenge them was treason and heresy. The penalty for either was the same: a painful, public death.

Around the world today we see example after example of authoritarian regimes denying the right to dissent and punishing it. Whether they are nominally Capitalist, such as Russia or Turkey, or nominally Communist, such as China, suppression of dissent is what truly determines what kind of life those they rule must lead.

To be left wing - truly and properly left wing - is to hold oneself accountable to others because we want them to be accountable to us. The ability to voice and listen to dissent is what makes that work.

With every non-unanimous Supreme Court decision, there is a majority opinion and a minority, “dissenting” one. There may also be concurring opinions to either. They are published together. It is the majority opinion that rules, but the reason for the inclusion of the others is that they may persuade those reading them to change their minds. In this way, each voice on the Court matters, each mind, and each opportunity to influence the voices and minds of those the Court serves.

The Supreme Court is the last federal institution where majority rule still holds true. The Electoral College and Senate disproportionately favor rural, right wing voters and have increasingly done so for decades. That makes this appointment the natural result, and with it will come things the Left correctly fears.

Barrett may very well support overturning decisions on the ACA and Roe v Wade, but, perhaps more disturbingly, she may support overturning the decisions that equalized LGBT rights and banned forced prayer in schools.

Again, this will not be because she is Catholic but because she believes that those in power, be they school boards or business owners, have the right to decide who has rights within their schools and businesses and who does not. If you don’t like that, you’ll just have to gain power yourself, or find a new school, or a new job, or a new bakery.

It will likely be a long time before Justice Barrett has to write a dissenting opinion. It will take the retirement or death of at least one of the right wing justices, and that may not happen for a decade or more.

There has been talk of Democrats stacking the Court with left wing justices. This would be a tragic mistake. Even talking about it is a mistake. If the Democrats did it next year, the Republicans could do it when they took power, and so on, and so on, and so on.

Meanwhile, it would corrupt and erode any confidence in any legal opinion issued by the Supreme Court or any of the lower courts, and with that whatever last shred of trust Americans had in government would be gone.

The better solution, one long overdue, would be to fix the imbalance of power in the Electoral College and the Senate. This would be done by admitting the District of Columbia and Puerto Rico as states and by splitting California into two or three states.

Doing so would add eight or ten senators and at least two voting representatives. This would not only repair some of the imbalance between right wing and left wing voters in this country, it would make it easier to pass new amendments to the Constitution, such as preserving the right to abortion, mandating health care as a right, setting term limits for all federal judges, and eliminating the Electoral College once and for all.

There would be resistance to this, of course. There would be dissent. And those offering genuine dissent should always be listened to. We fail to do so at our own expense.

Dissent is one of the prices we pay for democracy. It is sloppy. It is chaotic. It takes work and it takes time. However, much like our own immune systems, it must be flexible and robust to withstand change and adapt to new conditions.

That is the world Ruth Bader Ginsberg fought for. That is the world we should fight for, too.

- Daniel Ward

[panelun]

Batman and mental illness

(Not english speaker. Beware the gibberish.)

It’s time for me to say how much I love batman’s comics as : a reader, a pretentious literature student and a naratologist nerd. 

Contrary to others writers, super heroes comics’ writers “borrow” a character and have to write a story. It can be an hard job and they’re not always good at it, but they nearly always manage to keep a consistant thematic in Batman’s comics and that’s impressive. People says batman is liked because he has no superpower, but I don’t think it’s true. There is superheroes without superpower and they’re not as famous as him. 

Batman is a great hero because the universes, characters and stories graviting around him kept a global coherence on a rare but well developped subject : mental illness.

The “first” writers  did a good job at build the basis of the universe and Batman, the animated serie kinda give to Batman this gloomy and gothic style we know and appreciate and put a lot of basis about all of this. Next writers goes on and it was a really good job in the globality. It’s even more impressive when you think some of theses writers probably never thought about the symbols of their stories. Of course, it’s only one interpretation possible, but it still find it very strong.

The vast majority of Batman’s characters are mentally ill. Of course, Joker, Twofaces, Poison Ivy or other vilains came to your mind, but Bruce never get over his childhood trauma he’s probably very depressed too. 

People already noticed Bruce’s vilains represent dark sides of himself : Twofaces is his need of justice, Clayface, his troubled identity, Pinguin, a rich man, as Bruce, who used is money for doing bad things ect. All theses vilains are, symbolically, what Bruce Wayne could become. When he fight against them, he fight against himself, fight to be a better person. He wouldn’t be able to be Bruce Wayne if he couldn’t be Batman. 

 The most interesting point, I think, is the Joker, who represent pure madness and cruelty. It’s an interesting contrast to made the Joker a monster (before clown monsters were cool) when Batman is the one who actually looks as a scary vilain. I think Batman is unconsiously tempted by the Joker madness.

 The colors of batman’s characters represent their mind. Batman’s vilains are happy. Bruce aren’t. They see the world with joy when the reality Batman is facing is violent and dark (as dark as his costume in fact).

The last book I read when I was still a student was “The bluest eyes” by Toni Morrison and I was surprise to discover comics writers came, maybe unconsiously, to the same conclusion than a nobel prize.

Madness saves people from their sorrow and misery. Joker is happy to be mad ( So happy his job is to made people laugh) while Bruce is full of anxiety and sorrow because he sees the world as it is. He’s sad for his vilains, for the victims, for himself, always worried to save everyone in time… Sadness made him a good person because it made him empathic. 

And Batman can’t heal, but he can break the circle. Robin prove it.

 The different incarnation of Robin (his children) are also traumatized, but Bruce never had a mentor/father. The Robins had, because Bruce adopted them. He saves Robin and Robins will save him. Robin is always represent as a child, symbol of innocence, and wear bright colors, showing the trauma is less and less visible and will desapear one day. They represent Bruce’s children, but also his inner child who surpass his trauma. They’re also, with Alfred, the good side of the reality who stop Bruce to fall in madness.

Robin is the part of us who want to be optimistic and happy despite everything goes wrong. Batman is the one able to save this optimistic side because he’s already very pessimistic and prepared to the worse. People need both, depending on the situation. They’re the two side of a same coin. They represent what makes people able to surpass their difficulties in life.

I think Batman is a hughe success because people are really scared of madness, sometimes even more than death. Loosing yourself, loosing your own identity, is a big deal. People are more and more aware about the importance of mental illness and we feel more and more exposed to it. Very few people will spent their life without being depressed and mentally ill. That’s why Batman is a very cathartic story. It’s about a man who always manage to surpass his psychological problems.

 The comics show how awful mental illness can be, how it affect the world around us (vilains’ victimes) and represent it very harsly, but it’s also full of hope.  Bruce is the reader’s alter-ego who have all he need to constantly fight against his mental illness to stay himself, and he always manage to win against his demon.

Because madness isn’t a fatality and hapiness can still touch a broken person. 

[immortalpramheda]

The 100 6x06 ‘Memento Mori’

Bellamy believes he’s lost Clarke for good this time. It was heartbreaking seeing him grieving her, I can only imagine how he felt for those six years in space. But in space he didn’t know for sure, there was still hope that she was somehow alive. But now, he really believes there is no way to get her back.

Initially he wanted to retaliate with violence and kill them all and take their home. Making rash decisions with his heart rather than his head because these people took someone important from him. But that would mean starting another war and that is exactly the opposite of Monty’s words. Violence is all they’ve ever known but it’s time to break the cycle.

While I don’t like think the people of Sanctum should just get away with what they’ve done, I agree that Murphy’s plan is smarter. Take the peace deal and they’ll help them build their own compound. Of course Murphy may be going along with this for his own selfish reasons, but I think he sees that fighting will only end in bloodshed. It will only be repeating the same thing they’ve done many times before.

Josie needs her father out of the way and one way to do that is to set Bellamy loose and get him to kill Russell. But Bellamy decides not to. This is what Josie wants and he can’t let her win. Getting her father out of the way will only make her more powerful, one less person standing in her way to getting what she wants. And also, killing him isn’t going to bring Clarke back.

The most heartbreaking moment was when Bellamy tells Madi about Clarke. He’s the closest thing she has to family now.

Xavier confirms that Gabriel is in fact the Old Man. He was the 13th Prime, and after he had a ‘moral awakening’ he rebelled against Sanctum. Now he’s living in the anomaly, where time moves differently.

It’s obvious that Josephine cared about Gabriel, Russell even brings up the fact that she loved him to try to squeeze a shred of empathy out of her. But I guess that being immortal can turn someones moral compass cold. When Gabriel died, I can assume that she transferred him into a mind drive to keep him alive. Ooooh maybe the original Gabriel died of old age and that’s why they refer to him as the Old Man? Josie was quite young when her mind was extracted, and she still seems to act that age. It seems like their minds are stunted at whatever age they initially died and don’t develop properly after that. He could have agreed to be transferred to a few different bodies, because I do think he loved Josie and wanted to be with her, but it got to a point where he couldn’t go along with it anymore.

I loved the luminescent cave! So pretty! Reminded me of the glowing forest in S1. The affects of Octavia’s ageing hand is spreading up her arm. Xavier says it’s caused by a ‘time dilation’. It’s lucky that only her hand was exposed to the flare or she’d be dead already.

Back where the flare affected the forest, Xavier gets this tree sap from a fossilised tree and it heals Diyoza’s wounds instantly. The sap doesn’t cure Octavia, but it does do something. Her arm is moving, involuntarily, in the shape of the spiral. The shape of the anomaly. Diyoza has also been drawing spirals. Xavier shows the mark on his chest of the same symbol. He says the anomaly is calling them, just like it called him. This is going to be interesting!

Raven takes her anger out on someone much more deserving, Ryker. Russell killed him during the first eclipse. he never asked to be brought back. And when he dies, he’s always brought back. He doesn’t have a choice in any of it. He keep mementoes of all the host bodies he’s been in, trying to make things more justified. I do hope that he decides to rebel and refuse to be transferred to any more bodies. Maybe he’ll be like Maya and sacrifice himself for these new people because he knows what his people are doing is wrong?

We get to see the Offering Grove in all it’s glory, just one of the many mysterious places of this moon. The plants consume people, and I’m assuming it helps the ecosystem to stay in balance. The man that Echo comes across blames himself for Rose’s death and so he decided to offer himself to the moon to repent for his sins. The people of Sanctum seem so devoted to their religion and this is just another strange aspect of it.

Josie is ready, thanks to Murphy’s mentoring, to approach Abby. She hits all the right beats, bringing up all sorts of painful memories, like the Dark Year and Jake. She tells her that to save Kane, they need to turn him into a Nightblood. Then they can transfer his mind into a drive and put it into another body. Kane deserves to be saved because he’s good, that’s one particular point of reference that she uses to manipulate Abby to get what she wants.

Abby knows that Kane would not want this, and Clarke should know that too. Taking an innocent persons life so that he can live. He would not be on board with that in the slightest. Kane is a good person. What Clarke/Josie is suggesting is monstrous.

I don’t buy that she’s on board with this. She knows her own daughter and knows that she wouldn’t ever suggest something as morally corrupt as this. I think she’s only pretending to go along with so she can go up to space without interference. I’m hoping they wake up some others (in particular Indra!). There’s a whole army in cryosleep up there, they could be very useful in helping them fight back.

Madi is having troubles with Sheidheda. Josephine walks in and just wakes her up without a care in the world, disrupting the ritual that Gaia was helping her through. Now, thanks to Madi’s premature wake up, she's being haunted by this Dark Commander not only in her dreams, but when she’s awake.

The other Commanders were supposed to be there to protect her when she goes through the ‘Separation Ritual’, but it’s just the two of them facing off. He tries to seduce her to the dark side, but thankfully she is incredibly strong willed just like Clarke and refuses to give in.

But after finding out that Clarke is supposedly dead, Madi enlists the help of Sheiheda to get revenge. No one else wants to fight and so Madi is taking it upon herself to make sure justice is served.

When Josie finally goes to sleep (the first time since she’d returned), we see that Clarke is still in there! She wakes up in her cell back on the Ark. There are drawings covering the walls. Memories.

I think because Clarke did not give up her body willingly is the reason why she’s not completely gone. The hosts are groomed from birth to one day be taken over and willingly give up their bodies for their religion. She’s very strong willed, she’s not going to give in easily. As is the theme of this season, she’s going to have to face all her demons in order to come back.

Hopefully parts of Clarke will break through as she fights inside her own mind and they’ll realise she’s still in there. I still stand by my theory that they’ll use the Flame to get her back. Two different, but similar, pieces of technology created by Becca. I have a feeling if they’re put together they’ll clash. And the whole thing with Madi giving into Sheidheda will surely be important. Maybe he will somehow be the key to bringing her back?

There are so many different story threads but they’re all connected in this amazing way. It’s all heading up to something big and I can’t wait!

[calzona-ga]

We are headed into season 15 of Grey’s Anatomy. It’s officially my longest relationship, and I oddly feel quite proud admitting that fact. From declarations of love to tragic deaths, Shonda Rhimes has proven that she knows how to combine a hard-hitting medical drama with a little bit of comedy and a whole lot of romance.

Speaking of romance, who do I need to beg to bring back Scott Speedman as a series regular? Surely Dr. Marsh needs Dr. Grey to check on his kidney, right? And perhaps hang around Grey Sloane Memorial for a few years to do his own surgeries? I’d sign that petition. All day. Moving on.

Thanks to a few weddings and a shocking pregnancy announcement during last season’s finale, this season looks to be as juicy as ever. Here’s everything you need to know before the two-hour premiere on Sept. 27:

Amelia and Owen Remember Amelia’s huge brain tumor? The one she had for ten years that may have caused all of her erratic behavior? It was thankfully cut out, but now Amelia wonders if Owen fell in love with Brain Tumor Amelia. Owen thinks the idea is ridiculous, but that doesn’t stop Amelia from distancing herself from him. Their marriage crumbles as a result.

What’s a guy to do? Why foster a child, of course. When Owen quickly figures out that kids are a full-time job, Amelia is happy to lend a helping hand. She’s also happy to stick around when she learns that the baby’s mom is a teenaged alcoholic. Amelia invites her into the house, and a charming little dysfunctional family is born. Owen is living his dream. Sort of.

Meredith and Nathan Ugh. If Abigail Spencer wasn’t so cute, I’d hate her character Megan for screwing up Meredith’s relationship with Nathan. Megan is Owen’s sister and Nathan’s fiancé who served in the military with them but has been presumed dead for ten years. Guess what? She’s not dead! And she’s headed to Grey Sloane with a medical emergency. Look alive, everyone.

Are we glad that Megan survived her time in Iraq? Sure. Is it annoying that Meredith had to save her from her weird abdominal injury? Of course. It’s just a wee bit irritating that Meredith is finally open to loving someone again and she has to take the high road when Nathan looks at her with sad yet hopeful eyes, begging her to understand that his “big love” is miraculously back in his life. “If it were Derek, I would already be gone.” Classic Meredith.

Owen and Teddy Owen takes off to Germany to see Teddy in person, ready to give it a go. All is well until Teddy learns that Owen just slept with Amelia five seconds ago. No sir! He high tails it back to Seattle and resumes his awkward arrangement with Amelia, because it will never happen with Teddy. Owen hops back on that bandwagon, owning the chaos.

Naturally, Teddy shows up out of the blue and is handed the interim chief position on a silver platter. She accepts. Oh, she’s also preggers. Presumably with Owen’s love child. Put another log on the dysfunctional fire, please.

Miranda and Ben Miranda is tired of being chief, so she hands those reins over to Teddy after a quick interview. The heart attack she experienced has her thinking twice about life, her son, and her hunky husband.

Oh yes. Ben (played by Jason George) is hunky. He’s also starring on Shondaland’s Station 19, which debuted in the spring. Both bounce back from fire station to hospital, but their love is grounded. I’m glad Bailey will no longer be stuck behind a desk pushing papers. 

Harper Avery For starters, Harper Avery dies and Jackson gets a bajillion dollars as a result. He anonymously slips the hospital some money to host an innovation contest. Everyone is on board, but it’s Meredith and Jo who win. It has something to do with a polymer and growing liver, and both are stoked.

There’s just one glitch: Meredith must acquire a patent that belongs to Ellis Grey’s former best friend, Marie Cerone. She hard passes which sends Meredith into a deep dive to figure out what is up with Marie.

It turns out, Harper Avery had several acts of sexual misconduct filed against him back in the day, and Jackson’s mom covered it up by paying major settlements to the women. One of those women is Marie Cerone. Bailey shuts down the research project, and Jackson changes the name of the Harper Avery Foundation to the Catherine Fox Foundation to protect his mother’s name. He also promises to retain, repay, and rehire all the women who were affected by Harper Avery’s mistreatment.

Jackson and Maggie Sarah Drew, who plays April, had a whirlwind of activity in her final episodes of Grey’s Anatomy. She walks away from God, parties way too much, sleeps around, reunites with her ex-fiance Matthew (whose wife was lost in surgery), and ends up in a car crash that sends her plummeting into an ice cold river.

When Matthew is brought into the hospital, Owen figures out that April was with him, so he leaves the ER and somehow finds her at the scene of the accident. Yay! Except she’s sort of dead. Boo. It’s a good thing she’s at Grey Sloane where lots of people on staff have been dead before, including Meredith, who barks, “Warm dead is dead dead.” Maggie finds a pulse and April is alive again. Yay!

Arizona and Sofia Poor Arizona can’t catch a break. She knows her daughter Sofia is not happy in Seattle and struggles to figure out a plan. Luckily, her mentor Nicole Herman, in the form of Geena Davis, offers Arizona a partnership in creating the Robbins-Herman Center for Women’s Health. In New York. Where Callie lives. Done and done.

I’ll miss you most of all, Jessica Capshaw.

Jo and Alex Jo and Alex always had a rough go, thanks to Jo’s miserable ex-husband Paul. He’s the worst in all the ways. When he arrives at Grey Sloane, Meredith and Alex save the day by advocating for Jo, and Paul leaves undeterred with his new wife. Moments later, Paul is brought into the ER with major injuries. It was a hit and run. Did Alex hit him? Did the wife? Does it matter?

The doctors save Paul, which does nothing for his horrible character. He tries to attack Jo while in recovery, slips, hits his head, and is immediately brain dead. And since Jo wasn’t divorced from him yet, she gets to decide if she wants to pull the plug. Which she does. Right after she donates all of Paul’s organs.

Now Jo and Alex are free to marry! They are also free to enjoy a quickie before the ceremony. In true Grey’s form, they get locked in a shed with a dead guy. Fun times.

The day is a disaster. April accidentally sends everyone to the wrong church. The on-site wedding coordinator goes into anaphylactic shock. A drunk DeLuca kisses Meredith. And when the reverend shows up to marry the happy couple, no one can find the bride and groom.

This doesn’t stop some people from their happily ever after. April and Matthew step up and tie the knot. They are headed off to do mission work for the homeless. Good-bye, April!

And finally, once Alex and Jo are rescued from the shed and its ghost, Meredith gets ordained and marries her two friends on the back of a ferry.

Who’s ready for season 15? How do we feel about the new doctors in town? Will Meredith ever get another love story? Do you think Jackson and Maggie will make it? Or will something dramatic happen in the first episode?

Great. I just jinked them.

[jsteneil]

Dan is the closest of the Foxes to Palmetto, working in DC where the others have migrated North or East, with Kevin down in Texas as one sweaty exception. She visits more than the others, hopping in and out of her car on occasions, and always comes in the Foxhole court holding a large to-go cup from the campus’ coffee, looking radiant and focused.

Neil smiles more easily, these days, and he never fights the natural inclination of his mouth when he sees Dan and lets himself be hugged, maybe a bit tighter than someone who doesn’t answer to the name of Dan Wilds would.

“Rookie,” she calls, lobbing her paper cup in the garbage one day. Half of the freshmen turn their tired faces to her, dragging their feet after today’s hard practice.

Neil smiles. “Dan,” he greets, and waves his team away. Robin steals his car keys on her way out, clearly not eager to repeat the time she had to wait half an hour in the cold for Neil and Dan to finish talking.

Dan lifts an eyebrow. She knows Robin from last year, when Andrew, Aaron, and Nicky were still there to share a bedroom that now feels to big for two people, but she’s emboldened over the summer. Neil is quietly proud of her, like warming his hands to the residual heat of a slow-burning fire.

“I’ll run,” Neil says with a shrug. “I haven’t been jogging as I should lately.”

“Yeah,” Dan says, “maybe because there’s actual frost on the ground. Don’t be crazy, I’ll drive you back.”

“Okay,” Neil accepts, because he’s gotten better at acknowledging the casualness of the Foxes’ kindness. “Wanna get out of here?”

Dan’s hand flies to her chest.

“Who are you and what have you done with Neil Josten, local exy court vermin?”

“I don’t actually live here.”

“Then you can explain to me why I’ve found you sleeping on those damn couches more times than I can count,” a gruff voice says from behind them. “Get out of here.”

Wymack emerges from his office with his usual stack of papers and grumpy expression. Neil knows how much Dan means to him and how long they talked on the outer ring during the last half of practice, so he understands the way Dan laughs with her teeth and turns around to hold the door open.

“We’re having dinner at Abby’s tonight,” Dan says as they make their way to Dan’s rental car. “Wanna come?”

Tonight is the Foxes’ movie night. Neil quickly calculates pros and cons: Indian take-out in a room crowded with people he already spends too much time with everyday, or in Abby’s kitchen with some of the people who count the most in his life.

“Sure.”

He sends a message to Robin to tell her not to wait for him to start the movie, then closes the door of the car on the uncharacteristically cold winter.

“So how’s the team?” Neil asks at the same time Dan does, backing out of her parking space. They share a grin: Dan’s enthusiasm for the sport will never be on the same level as Kevin’s or Neil’s, but he likes more detached outlook she brings to the conversation nonetheless. Probably because exy means less to her than to him—although Neil’s had some difficulties wrapping his mind around this truth in the beginning—Dan is particularly soothing to talk to. Andrew suggested once that it may be because she refuses to make herself insane for something as inconsequential as exy, but Neil would rather bet that it was a thinly-veiled insult thrown to Kevin’s obsession.

“We’re getting into the season on a strong foot,” Dan says finally after Neil gestures for her to speak first. “The changes we’ve brought to the starting line are already showing results.”

“Drafting Perez was a risky move,” Neil says, because his interest in pro teams has considerably grown now that it’s a certainty of his future and not a dream sitting just out of his reach.

Dan’s smile grows sharper. To Neil, she’s still the young woman who led them all the way to finals in his freshman year.

“It was,” she agrees, “but it’s going to pay big time—we have a game with the Hawks next week, and I know where the odds are leaning.”

“I don’t bet,” Neil reminds her as they park in front of the Fox’s Paw, the campus coffee.

“Still? Neil, you have no respect for traditions.”

It’s true; mostly because he didn’t get to experience them before he met the Foxes. Dan keeps talking about the Eagles in the line to the counter, prompting questions in Neil’s mind that he never took into consideration before—it’s been three years, but it still feels weird that his captain ended on the other side of the plexiglass wall. Not wrong: Dan was made to mentor, but still.

Dan almost gets another coffee, then reconsiders and orders some kind of chocolate concoction that Andrew likes, provided they add cream and sugar in large quantity, because that’s Andrew’s favorite way to eat anything. A small stitch drills into his chest like he’s gulped too much air while running, like always when the realization comes that Andrew is miles away in a large city, and not smoking, up on the rooftop of their small world.

“So how’re you doing?” Dan asks, twirling the cream in her cup.

Neil hums in response. “I’m fine.”

“Uh huh. And without the bullshit?” She’s not fooled by his confused look. “Neil, I know how it is—”

He knows she does. In hindsight, he’s grateful for the reprieve she accorded him by talking so extensively about her team first.

“The first weeks are the worst,” Dan says, which Neil doesn’t believe because it’s already mid-November and Neil’s been feeling down since August, when Andrew moved to Boston for good.

Andrew flew down to Columbia two weekends ago, which means that Neil will fly north in ten days for Thanksgiving and spend the beginning of the week holed up in Andrew’s apartment with only each other, ice cream, alcohol, and cigarettes for company. The perspective brightens Neil’s immediate future, but it doesn’t relieve the constant ache of not having Andrew right next to him to exchange truths and stories with.

“Andrew came to our game against the Ravens two weeks ago,” Neil says instead of dwelling on the feeling.

“I saw on TV. The journalists had a field day.”

Neil nods slowly. He feels miserable, and he’s sure that Dan read it on every inch of his face. He longs briefly for the days when lying to the Foxes was as easy as breathing, when the reality of his feelings concerned him only.

“I find it easier to bear long distance if you talk about it,” Dan says finally, done with being subtle. “Nicky would agree.”

“You just want the gossip. How many bets?”

“There’s a consequential one on where you’ll spend Thanksgiving break. Renee says you’ll have a quiet week in Columbia, visit Bee. Nicky has quite a few bucks on you meeting in Boston and boning the entire time.” She winces. “Sorry, his words.”

Neil waves if it off. “I gathered.”

Dan huffs a laugh and drumrolls on the table, phone in hand. “Do I get to settle anything, or are you just going to send us a pic from Vietnam or something?”

“We wouldn’t fly anywhere this far,” Neil says, then relents: “Robin invited us to her parents’ for the day. I’m not sure Andrew will take her up on that offer, but we’ll see. We’ll spend the rest of the week in Boston, so I guess Nicky wins, for one.”

“Nicky only wins if you spend the whole time in bed,” Dan says delightfully as her fingers fly over her screen. “I don’t think I have to ask you how likely it is to happen.”

Neil snorts. “You’d think he’d have learned by now.”

“Renee’s happy you won’t be alone for the holidays,” Dan reads after her phone beeps a few times. “Allison is mad—she would’ve made three hundred bucks. Don’t look so pleased.”

“Don’t bet on my life.”

“Never gonna happen.”

They sip their drinks in silence for a while, basking in the warmth of the crowded coffee shop. Having Dan by his side in Palmetto is familiar, like the feeling of watching his shots land true. If Robin is his best friend, the quiet extension of himself, then Dan is his sister, warm, teasing, and proud.

“I miss him,” he admits, because he suddenly wants to. Andrew has always been a point of friction between them, but he can acknowledge the olive branch Dan has been offering him. He doesn’t mind taking it; the riverbanks are slippery enough as it is. “We talk a lot, but it’s not the same.”

They’re good at communication, because they can’t afford not to be, but most of their conversations are silent, exchanged through looks and actions. Neil knows Andrew enough by now to read his tone, what he leaves unsaid, but he misses the touches, the certainty of Andrew, there besides him.

Dan’s hand curls around her cup like she wants to grab for him but is restraining herself.

“Have you discussed the situation?”

“Of course. I thought long-distance was all about communication?”

“And Skype sex,” Dan adds with a grin curling her mouth.

Neil frowns. In a rare bout of sharing, he says: “Not likely.”

“Really.”

“I’m not discussing sex with you.” That’s a conversation for another day, possibly imaginary, definitely involving alcohol. Neil has managed to escape it so far by sticking close to Nicky, who, despite his own interest in the situation, is always prompt to deroute on his own sexual adventures and attract Aaron’s ire.

“Fine. Keep your gossip to yourself, ungrateful child.”

“I will.” He waits a beat then says: “He’s not happy there. He never says anything but I don’t think the team is right for him.”

“Problems with his teammates?”

Dan’s frown his sympathetic. Twice captain of her exy teams and now assistant coach, she knows exactly how much inside tensions can affect a player’s game—and their lives beyond.

“Whitney is outwardly homophobic and an asshole,” Neil says. Five years ago, he would never have thought he’d ever get so worked up about something not directly linked to his survival; five years ago, he also didn’t have Andrew Minyard in his life, to love and protect fiercely where Andrew himself doesn’t necessarily. “Andrew won’t stand for it forever.”

“You’re worried it’ll fall back on Andrew?”

Neil raises his hands in front of him, palms up. “Exy golden boy from an Ivy league college and three years of seniority. Andrew.” He tips his hands like scales. “You know what people are going to see, and you know that it won’t be the truth.”

“It might if someone can attest of Whitney’s slurs,” Dan says. “He doesn’t have a good reputation in the division. People talk. And I think Andrew knows better than pulling a knife under another coach than Wymack.”

“He doesn’t carry knives anymore. And that’s not the problem, is it?”

“No it’s not,” Dan sighs. “I’m sorry.”

She asks about the team to distract him after that, and it works—Neil will never miss a chance to talk exy, especially not when it’s his team, a responsibility he never thought he’d have. He remembers the sick feeling of fear and want when Wymack first told him about his future captaincy; some days, Neil can still feel it, curled tight in his stomach to make room for pride and affection, and all those other feelings that he’s learned along the way. He doesn’t need to ask Dan if it ever goes away. He’s not sure he wants it to.

They clear out their table a while later, when night has already fallen around the bright yellow streetlights, and head back to Dan’s car, jogging slightly to fight the cold. Neil leans his head on the window and staring outside past the fog of his breath on the glass, and only straightens when he sees the shape of Abby’s house, shadow pierced by large rectangles of light. Dan winds her arm over his shoulders when they get out the car and drags him to the door.

“We’re here!” she announces, opening the door left unlocked, as usual.

Neil sheds his coat and removes his shoes, padding in the kitchen to find Wymack and Abby prepping chicken around the table. A small pot is already simmering on the stove and filling the entire room with the smell of tomato and thyme. Abby gives them each a knife and different vegetables to peel; the celeri makes a cheerful crunching sound every time Neil lowers the blade.

“You’re a terrible cook,” Dan observes good-naturedly after Abby corrects him three times on how to best mince garlic. Neil doesn’t mind: he’s usually the first to admit that he doesn’t care all that much about cooking.

“I know,” he says, and thinks, Andrew prefers to do it anyway.

[blackkudos]

Betty Carter

Betty Carter (born Lillie Mae Jones; May 16, 1929 – September 26, 1998) was an American jazz singer known for her improvisational technique, scatting and other complex musical abilities that demonstrated her vocal talent and imaginative interpretation of lyrics and melodies. Vocalist Carmen McRae once remarked, "There's really only one jazz singer—only one: Betty Carter."

Early life

Carter was born in Flint, Michigan, and grew up in Detroit, where her father, James Jones, was the musical director of a Detroit church and her mother, Bessie, was a housewife. As a child, Carter was raised to be extremely independent and to not expect nurturing from her family. Even thirty years after leaving home, Carter was still very aware of and affected by the home life she was raised in, and was quoted saying:

"I have been far removed from my immediate family. There's been no real contact or phone calls home every week to find out how everybody is…As far as family is concerned, it's been a lonesome trek…It's probably just as much my fault as it is theirs, and I can't blame anybody for it. But there was…no real closeness, where the family urged me on, or said…'We're proud'…and all that. No, no…none of that happened."

Despite the isolation from her family that Carter felt due to their lack of support, it is possible to attribute her fighting spirit and determination to make it in the music business to this sense of abandonment, leading her to be the legend that she is today. She studied piano at the Detroit Conservatory at the age of fifteen, but did not exceed a modest level of expertise.

At the age of sixteen, Carter began singing. As her parents were not big proponents of her pursuing a singing career, Carter would sneak out at night to audition for amateur shows. After winning first place at her first amateur competition, Carter felt as though she were being accepted into the music world and decided that she must pursue it tirelessly. When Carter began performing live, she was too young to be admitted into bars, so she obtained a forged birth certificate to gain entry in order to perform.

Career

Even at a young age, Carter was able to bring a new vocal style to jazz. The breathiness of her voice was a characteristic seldom heard before her appearance on the music scene. She also was well known for her passion for scat singing and her strong belief that the throwaway attitude that most jazz musicians approached it with was inappropriate and wasteful due to its spontaneity and basic inventiveness, seldom seen elsewhere.

Detroit, where Carter grew up, was a hotbed of jazz growth. After signing with a talent agent after her win at amateur night, Carter had opportunities to perform with famous jazz artists such as Dizzy Gillespie, who visited Detroit for an extensive amount of time. Gillespie is often considered responsible for her strong passion for scatting. In earlier recordings, it is apparent that her scatting had similarities to the qualities of Gillespie's.

At the time of Gillespie's visit, Charlie Parker was receiving treatment in a psychiatric hospital, delaying her encounter with him. However, Carter eventually also received an opportunity to perform with Parker, as well as with his band consisting of Tommy Potter, Max Roach, and Miles Davis. After receiving praise from both Gillespie and Parker for her vocal prowess, Carter felt a strong burst in confidence and knew that she could make it in the business with perseverance.

Carter was right. In 1948, Carter was asked by Lionel Hampton to join his band. Carter finally had her big break. Working with Hampton's group gave her the chance to be band mates with artists such as Charles Mingus and Wes Montgomery as well as with Ernest Harold "Benny" Bailey, who had recently vacated Gillespie's band and Albert Thornton "Al" Grey who would later go on to join Gillespie's band. Hampton obviously had an ear for talent and a love for bebop. Carter too had a deep love for bebop as well as a talent for it. Hampton's wife Gladys gave her the nickname "Betty Bebop", a nickname she reportedly detested. Despite her good ear and charming personality, Carter was fiercely independent and had a tendency to attempt to resist Hampton's direction, while Hampton had a temper and was quick to anger. Hampton expected a lot from his players and did not want them to forget that he was the band's leader. She openly hated his swing style, refused to sing in a swinging way, and she was far too outspoken for his tastes. Carter honed her scat singing ability while on tour, which was not well received by Hampton as he did not enjoy her penchant for improvisation. Over the course of two and a half years, Hampton fired Carter a total of seven times.

Being a part of Hampton's band provided a few things for "The Kid" (a nickname bestowed upon Carter that stuck for the rest of her life): connections, and a new approach to music, making it so that all future musical attitudes that came from Carter bore the mark of Hampton's guidance. Because of Hampton's hiring of Carter, she also goes down in history as one of the last big band era jazz singers in history. However, by 1951, Carter left the band. After a short recuperation back home, Carter was in New York, working all over the city for the better part of the early 1950s, as well as participating in an extensive tour of the south, playing for "camp shows". This work made little to no money, but Carter believed it was necessary in order to develop as an artist, and was a way to "pay her dues".

Very soon after Carter's arrival in New York City, she was given the opportunity to record with King Pleasure and the Ray Bryant Trio, becoming more recognizable and well known and subsequently being granted the chance to sing at the Apollo Theatre. This theatre was notorious for giving up-and-coming artists the final shove into becoming household names. Carter was propelled into notoriety, recording with Epic label by 1955 and was a well-known artist by the late 1950s. Her first solo LP, Out There, was released on the Peacock label in 1958.

Miles Davis can be credited for Carter's bump in popularity, as he was the person who recommended to Ray Charles that he take Carter under his wing. Carter began touring with Charles in 1960, then making a recording of duets with him in 1961, including the R&B-chart-topping "Baby, It's Cold Outside," which brought her a measure of popular recognition. In 1963 she toured in Japan with Sonny Rollins. She recorded for various labels during this period, including ABC-Paramount, Atco and United Artists, but was rarely satisfied with the resulting product. After three years of touring with Charles and a total of two recordings together, Carter took a hiatus from recording to marry. She and her husband had two children. However, she continued performing, not wanting to be dependent upon her husband for financial support.

The 1960s became an increasingly difficult time for Carter as she began to slip in fame, refusing to sing contemporary pop music, and her youth fading. Carter was nearly forty years old, which at the time was not conducive to a career in the public eye. Rock and Roll, like pop, was steadily becoming more popular and provided cash flow for labels and recording companies. Carter had to work extremely hard to continue to book gigs because of the jazz decline. Her marriage also was beginning to crumble. By 1971, Carter was single and mainly performing live with a small group consisting of merely a piano, drums, and a bass. The Betty Carter trio was one of very few jazz groups to continue to book gigs in the late 1960s and early 1970s.

Carter created her own record label, Bet-Car Records, in 1969, the sole recording source of Carter's music for the next eighteen years:

....in fact, I think I was probably the first independent label out there in '69. People thought I was crazy when I did it. 'How are you gonna get any distribution?' I mean, 'How are you gonna take care of business and do that yourself?' 'Don't you need somebody else?' I said, 'Listen. Nobody was comin' this way and I wanted the records out there, so I found out that I could do it myself.' So, that's what I did. It's the best thing that ever happened to me. You know. We're talking about '69!

Some of her most famous recordings were originally issued on Bet-Car, including the double album The Audience with Betty Carter (1980). In 1980 she was the subject of a documentary film by Michelle Parkerson, But Then, She's Betty Carter. Carter's approach to music did not concern solely her method of recording and distribution, but also her choice in venues. Carter began performing at colleges and universities, starting in 1972 at Goddard College in Vermont. Carter was excited at this opportunity, as it was since the mid-1960s that Carter had been wanting to visit schools and provide some sort of education for students. She began lecturing along with her musical performances, informing students of the history of jazz and its roots.

By 1975, Carter's life and work prospects began to improve, and Carter was beginning to be able to pick her own jobs once again, touring in Europe, South America, and the United States. In 1976, Carter was a guest live performer on Saturday Night Live′s first season on the air, and was also a performer at the Newport Jazz Festival in 1977 and 1978, carving out a permanent place for herself in the music business as well as in the world of jazz.

In 1977, Carter reached a new high in fame for herself, being lauded by critics, media, and fans for her talent, and even teaching a master class with her past mentor, Dizzy Gillespie, at Harvard. In the last decade of her life, Carter began to receive even wider acclaim and recognition. In 1987 she signed with Verve Records, who reissued most of her Bet-Car albums on CD for the first time and made them available to wider audiences. In 1988 she won a Grammy for her album Look What I Got! and sang in a guest appearance on The Cosby Show (episode "How Do You Get to Carnegie Hall?"). In 1994 she performed at the White House and was a headliner at Verve's 50th anniversary celebration in Carnegie Hall. She was the subject of a 1994 short film by Dick Fontaine, Betty Carter: New All the Time.

In 1997 she was awarded a National Medal of Arts by President Bill Clinton. This award was one of thousands, but Carter considered this medal to be her most important that she received in her lifetime.

Death

Carter continued to perform, tour, and record, as well as search for new talent until she was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer in the summer of 1998. She died on September 26, 1998, at the age of 69, and was later cremated. She was survived by her two sons.

Legacy

Carter often recruited young accompanists for performances and recordings, insisting that she "learned a lot from these young players, because they're raw and they come up with things that I would never think about doing."

1993 was Carter's biggest year of innovation, creating a program called Jazz Ahead, which took 20 students who were given the opportunity to spend an entire week training and composing with Carter, a program that still exists to this day and is hosted in The Kennedy Center.

Betty Carter is considered responsible for discovering great jazz talent, her list including such names as John Hicks, Curtis Lundy, Mulgrew Miller, Cyrus Chestnut, Dave Holland, Stephen Scott, Kenny Washington, Benny Green and more.

Miscellaneous

Carter is mentioned along with other jazz luminaries in Gang Starr's jazz rap "Jazz Thing."

In 1999 she was posthumously inducted into the Down Beat Jazz Hall of Fame.

She is name-checked in Chapter 22 of Saul Williams's The Dead Emcee Scrolls.

Discography

Compilations

1990 Compact Jazz – Polygram – Bet-Car and Verve recordings from 1976 to 1987

1992 I Can't Help It – Impulse!/GRP – the Out There and Modern Sound albums on one compact disc

1999 Priceless Jazz – Verve – ABC-Paramount and Peacock Recordings from 1958 and 1960

2003 Betty Carter's Finest Hour – Verve  – recordings from 1958 to 1992

On multi-artist compilations

"I'm Wishing" on Stay Awake: Various Interpretations of Music from Vintage Disney Films (1988).

"Lonely House" on September Songs - The Music of Kurt Weill (1997).

Wikipedia