#to survive she has to be this twisted and capable and harsh and cruel and solitary and heartbroken

[backjustforberena]

who's afraid of me?

[theartofdreaming1]

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

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

heart

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

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

mind

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

soul

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

Chapter 7

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chapter 8

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chapter 9

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[missbrunettebarbie]

Killjoys sorting

With the help of @starry-sky-stuff here are the sortings of most of the characters of the TV show Killjoys. Warning: SPOILERS ahead

Yalena "Dutch" Yardeen is probably the most Snake Lion protagonsit I've seen in a while now. She only really cares about her people who at the begining of the show are Johnny, then D'avin and despite what Dutch would like, Khlyen. Over the next five seasons, Dutch's circle grows as she adds new people, but she's still very much a Snake. The best example of Dutch's Snake primary is the season 1 episode where everyone is hunting for her mentor, Big Joe, and despite the fact that he's guilty Dutch tries to do anything to save him.

As a result of Khlyen's harsh upbringing, Dutch has almost all the secondary models drilled into her. But she's a Lion through and through: her first instinct is always to tackle the problem head on. She and D'avin bond over training and shooting things. Not to mention, when Johnny leaves the team, we have a hilarious moment when Dutch and D'avin have to deal with a teoublesome computer. Their solution: shoot it and fry it xDD

D'avin Jaqobis is definitely a Lion secondary. He's a soldier who like Dutch always goes for the direct approach. Like I previously said, he and Dutch bond because they share a secondary. His primary was harder, but I think he is a Badger. This is a very Loyalist verse and D'avin is no exception. Out of the entire trio, D'avin is the one most excited by the idea of Team Awesome Force. He is also the one put in charge of the war against the Hullen at the end of season 3 because of his leadership qualities. I would also add that his way of parenting Jaq (letting him choose his own name, always making sure he knows he is loved) seems very Badger-ish.

Johnny Jaqobis is probably the nicest Snake primary out there. This guy bonds with literally everyone that he spends more than five minutes with. But he's not a Badger, as he has very clear priorities ie. in season 1 when he thinks he'd have to choose between Dutch and D'avin, he knows he would choose Dutch even if it makes him a bad brother. Or at the end of season 3 when Dutch thinks she would die, she didn't tell Johnny because she thought he won't be able to handle it. He also bonds with individuals, not groups.

Johnny is a Bird secondary with a Snake model for fun undercover stuff and a Badger model he developed after his brother left home and he isn't not particulary fond of ("I am tired of being the one who always fixing things"). But the Bird is genuine: he is the nerd, the computer guy, the one with a plan.

Khlyen Kin Rit is Johnny's mirror in every way, the devil on Dutch's shoulder while Johnny is the angel. And it shows even in their sortings as both are Snake Birds. Khlyen's People are Aneela and then Dutch, nobody else. Everything he does, he does for them. The show doesn't excuse his abuse of Dutch at all, but it's clear Khlyen's acted that way because he thought training Dutch as brutally as he did would be the only way to ensure her survival. As a Bird secondsry, Khlyen is always the guy who has a plan, knowledge that others desperately want. As the other Yalena tells hin: "Even on a bad day, you are ten steps ahead of everyone else".

Pawter Simms who is "Qreshy born, but Westerly made" is a Badger primary whose community is Westerly and she gives up her life for it. Despite her own confession that she is no do gooder, but an exiled addict, Pawter bonds so much with the people of Old Town that she stays behind to help them after a bombing. And when she becomes one of The Nine, her first priority is still Westerly. I would say she is a Lion secondary with a Bird model for her job as a doctor. Just like Dutch and D'avin, Pawter keeps going even when she hits walls everwhere in her path and rarely tries to reconsider her methods.

Aneela Kin Rit is literally another version of Dutch, one who grew up differently, so it shouldn't be surprising that they houseshare. The way Aneela Darth Vaders her ship in season 3 screams of a burned Snake primary who weaponized her burning. During the last seasons she unburns for Kendry and Jaq. As most of the cast Aneela runs straight into obstacles and as a Hullen, she has no problem obliterating everyone that stands in her way. Classic Lion secondary.

Delle Seyah Kendry is a Snake secondary who really has fun manipulating people and playing with them when she has the upper end. In s3, when she is at Aneela's mercy the playfulness is replaced by the more pragmatic need to stay alive and she proves she is just as capable at holding soft power as she is with hard power. I initially had her pegged as a Snake primary who had no people before Aneela and Jaq. Keeley however conviced me she's probably a Bird primary that gets the Eleanor Shellstrop arc of having a very nihilistic system replaced by one with more Snake values (this is a veery Snake verse). She is the character that most cares about politics and the bigger picture. Not to mention, there is an inherit disdain in the first 2 seasons towards loyalists like Pawter and Dutch.

Jaq Kin Rit is for sure a Snake primary who puts his family first. His secondary is harder to point, considering he is still a kid who is still new to the world, but going purely on instinct I would say Badger secondary.

The Lady is probably another Snake primary considering her entire season 5 quest is to be loved by someone; be it either her future hatchlings or, in a cruel twist of faith, Khlyen. Maybe a Bird secondary? She is good at planning.

Lucy - the ship's AI- is an Exploded Snake with Johnny as her person. You only need to watch the first couple of episodes to realize Johnny is Lucy's #1 priority and will always be. Probably Bird secondary as is typical of AIs.

Zephyr Vos gave Keely Hermione Granger vibes and no wonder: the woman is a brilliant scientist, always needs to be right, is at her best when she trusts her instincts (see s5 where she was the first one to realize something was wrong in their idyllic world) and left her family because they forbade her to practice science. I think it's fair to say she is a Lion Bird.

Alvis Akary is a Bird Badger whose truth is his religion and who manages to get out of trouble with the help of friends like Dutch or his Scarback community.

Primma Dezz left his life as a warlord and framed his death because he realized his boyfriend would be a better leader than him. I think it's safe to say he is not a Snake. But considering the way he cares about the people of Old Town, he is a Loyalist. Most likely a Double Badger as his bar is a way to connect people and he is often the one to raise the spirits or the patriotic feelings in the people of Westerly. It's very sweet to see a Double Badger who uses patriotism for good.

Turin is probably a Badger whose community is the RAC. Lion secondsry as these are the kind of people mostly drawn to the Killjoys business.

Gared's a Snake Lion with Pree as his person and more courage than wits.

Fancy Lee "cleans, cooks, builds stuff", making him a Bird secondary. Considering his arc to help the cleansed Hullens, I could easily see him as a Badger primary who had no community before.

TL;DR

Yalena "Dutch" Yardeen - Snake Lion aka The Rebel, Snake secondary model, Bird secondary model

D'avin Jaqobis - Badger Lion aka The Protagonist

Johnny Jaqobis - Snake Bird aka The Mastermind, Snake secondary model, Badger secondary model

Khlyen Kin Rit -Snake Bird aka The Mastermind, Snake secondary model

Pawter Simms - Badger Lion aka The Protagonist, Bird secondary model

Aneela Kin Rit - Snake Lion aka The Rebel, her primary unburns during the story

Delle Seyah Kendry -Bird Snake aka The Artist

Jaq Kin Rit - Snake Badger aka The Lover

The Lady - Snake Bird aka The Mastermind

Lucy - Snake Bird aka The Mastermind, exploded primary

Zephyr Vos- Lion Bird aka The Vigilante

Alvis Akary - Bird Badger aka The Survivor

Primma "Pree" Dezz -Double Badger aka The Peacemaker

Fancy Lee - Badger Bird aka The Arhitecht

Turin - Badger Lion aka The Protagonist

Gared - Snake Lion aka The Rebel

[treestargarden]

vent post bc i fuckin love Don from the promised neverland. 

character analysis below the cut

personality:

we don’t see much of Don until episode 4, but there are a few things about his personality we can infer up to this point. 

1) Don is very close with the younger children of the house

2) Don was exceptionally close to conny

this first screenshot is taken from the last few seconds of the opening where Don is the only older child grouped with younger children. this relationship dynamic hasn’t really been given a lot of spotlight outside of the opening or the first few minutes of episode 1 when Don is seen holding conny when emma greets them. 

other than his close relationships with the younger children, we can see that Don has a very similar personality to emma. he’s carefree, extroverted, and tends to hope for the best in situations. 

when emma reveals the “truth” that the children are being trafficked, Don’s response is to laugh, because he honestly doesn’t believe such a terrible thing could be true. he’s lived his whole life in grace field, established important relationships with the children, and without a doubt loves his whole family. 

but then emma doesn’t reveal that she is tricking him, and Don quickly becomes concerned. a small tangent, but lets discuss ages for a brief moment. 

1) norman reveals that the younger a child is, and the lower the test scores, the sooner they are shipped

2) emma, ray, and norman are the oldest children in grace field, and i’m assuming Don and gilda are the next oldest

3) from these facts, we can then assume that Don and gilda are not at perfect scores like our main trio, but are smart enough to have continued past the age of 6 at grace field. given that most of the children are young, its likely many of the children the 5 lived in the house with when they were much younger have already been shipped out. these 5 were the smartest of their “cohort,” and thus, have survived the longest. 

back to Don’s relationship with conny. norman reveals the least of children shipped and their test scores. there were at least 2 children previously shipped before conny. while Don knew the other children, his first concern was for conny. he places a lot of importance on conny and i think that speaks to his strong connection to her. of course Don is most worried about her. 

when Don is faced with such a harsh “reality” that the children are not safe, what else is there to do when it seems the trio are holding back information? in episode 5, the trio attempt dissuading Don from checking out mom’s base of operations, as they don’t think its relevant to escaping. 

however, i think its absolutely necessary for Don and gilda to discover the stakes of escaping. its live or die. Don /needs/ to be invested in the plan. the only way to ensure this is for him to discover that conny has actually died. 

emma and Don: 

emma and Don have a lot of similarities in their personalities. my initial reaction is that Don perhaps is more subdued, but we’ve hardly gotten any screen time with him. he feels emotions just as much as emma does, and he isn’t quite as 1-dimensional as he may seem at face value. 

trust dynamics:

ray encourages emma to suspect other children as traitors, saying that she needs “to be more suspicious! thoroughly!” it is established with the main trio that suspicion is what will get them closer to escape. investigating loopholes, discovering clues that don’t add up--these are all essential to escaping and discovering the truth about the world they are living in. 

bottom line: we see suspicion from the trio as just!

but when faced with the reality that Don and gilda are not always going to take the trio’s advice at face value, suddenly suspicion is bad! unwise! unhelpful! i disagree. Suspicion is absolutely necessary especially when the circumstances are life and death. Don and gilda are also losing the same family members the main trio are losing--its only right they suspect and discover the fate of their younger siblings. 

bottom line: truth/discovery are a necessary subject in the promised neverland. without these elements, the plot just doesn’t develop. emma wouldn’t have found out the morse code in the books phil was reading, norman and emma wouldn’t have discovered the tall wall encircling them--we need to accept that other characters are their own individuals and that there are motives beyond just listening to the main trio because “they’re the smartest.” this sounds oddly similar to “i know what’s best for you.” 

additionally, ray is incredulous with the lie norman and emma told Don and gilda. in the previous line, ray admitted the lie they told the newer 2 was cruel. i assume ray believes they should have told Don and gilda the truth. at this point though, ray did not want to undermine norman and emma, since they have taken the lead on escaping. 

in episode 6, Don points out that emma, norman, and ray were fully prepared to take all of the young children into a “world full of enemies.” ultimately, if the trio had it their way, everyone would be absolutely unaware of the dire situation they were in. i’m on Don’s side: how absurd is it to hide from people that their lives are at stake, whether they stay at grace field or escape? 

some other emotional quotes that made me cry when Don was trying to express how hurt he was:

traitor dynamics:

and then we are introduced to the real traitor: ray. i think a lot of people may have been pleasantly surprised by this twist--this may have even encouraged people to take on ray as a new favorite character (i’m one of the people who absolutely adores ray’s character development). 

on the other hand, people were probably quick to assume it was Don instead before this grand reveal (which would lead to their surprise that is was ray in the first place). people have been gunning for Don for a while up to this point. he’s loud, he’s suspicious, he’s definitely a different personality type in terms of being told what to do. he’s an individual. 

either way, i think some people may have been disappointed it wasn’t Don and (pleasantly) surprised it was ray, which... quite honestly says a lot. 

up to this point, the characters have made it a point that the trio’s suspicion is fair--and i agree--but also, other characters should be allowed suspicion of everyone else, too. 

race:

let’s face it. a lot of the dynamics occurring between the audience’s reaction of ray vs Don and emma vs Don are also influenced by race--or, at the very least colorism. 

the trio is /allowed/ to be suspicious of Don, but Don is not allowed to suspect the trio or their lies. 

emma is allowed to be boisterous and hopeful, but Don is not allowed to be this way. 

in episode 6, the trio accost gilda and Don for disobeying orders, telling them they could have compromised their escape. to be honest, if i were in that situation, i would blow my top off; constantly being questioned/untrusted by my family? my siblings? Don is frustrated and angry and upset that he isn’t trusted--despite ray already being revealed as the spy. it’s not an explicit discussion, but its a dynamic that certainly exists. especially when the only other Black characters are Sister Krone (villain), Phil (ray’s first toddler-spy suspect), and Don (intelligence, trustworthiness constantly questioned by the trio). 

TL;DR: Don and Emma are incredible similar personality types, they love their family as much as everyone else does and wants what’s best for them. at the end of the day though, we have to pay more attention to the ways some characters are consistently treated by other/light-skin characters. there’s a privilege for emma being a light-skinned girl and Don isn’t seen as likeable or innocent, because he’s a Black boy. Ages are incredibly important in the development of the story, the older you are, the smarter you are, give Don some credit that he has at-least above average intelligence. he’s smart, capable, caring, and expressive. I love Don and you should, too. 

[chronicparagon]

One Piece AU: Harmony the Wing Less

Warning: This AU has content that may be disturbing to some readers. Triggers include blood, death, child death, child slavery, and torture. 

Art by Rina-Ran

(Note: I know this is art of FF7 Harmony but I felt can be applied for this AU too)

Harmony Halcyon

Tribe: Shandian

Occupation: Mercenary (but also works as a barmaid when jobs are slow), formerly a crew member of the Sea Warriors

Age: 19 years (before time skip) 21 years (after time skip)

Backstory

Harmony’s life began with the Shandia tribe. Though the war existed through most of Harmony’s life, she would be among the people who had no part in the fight, but suffered the consequences. Her name was given by her parents who wished for peace but they did not know that it may never come for them. Things became worse when a stranger called Enel came to the land and proclaimed that he was their god. Enel’s domination aggravated the constant war with the Skypians and it would worsen from there. Many people of Skypiea became slaves shortly after with women chosen as his servants. 

As Harmony was becoming a teenager, her parents feared she would be next. They couldn’t bear the thought and joined those where were brave enough, yet foolish enough to stand against Enel and his soldiers. If only they knew then that choice would end in failure and seal their fate. 

These defectors and their families became prisoners, tortured for the twisted amusement. To make matters worse, Harmony’s parents were forced to watch their own child be used as part of their punishment. Harmony was only thirteen. Thirteen years old when men pinned her down, stripped from the waist up. How they laughed as they wielded torches and knives, standing by until their master gave them the signal. 

 Harmony’s screams fill they air as blood splatter the ground along with her feathers drifting down, turning from white to red. Pain seared into her bones as it tears her wings off her back. Cutting, tearing, ripping, and burning into her back. Harmony tried to fight back, only to earn severe burns on her right arm. Her parents begged them to stop. Her mother wept and her father screamed for their child to be spared. Their pleas fell on deaf ears. They pulled on the shackles, desperately reaching for their daughter. 

“STOP THIS! STOP! DON’T DO THIS TO MY GIRL!” 

“MY BABY! GET YOUR HANDS OFF MY BABY!” 

Blood chilling laughter masked the heartbreak. 

Once all that was said and done, the girl was left shaking, tears streaming down her face as she laid in her own blood and feathers. It was then that Enel decided that her parents have seen enough and ordered their execution on the spot. The last thing Harmony’s parents saw was their own child crawling toward them, wanting to save them. But she could not get to them on time. There was nothing she could do. Such a pitiful sight. 

The young girl begged for their lives as well as the other defectors who knew they were mere moments away from their own demise. 

So, so pitiful. 

A child’s cries mean nothing to a god who lusts for blood and power.

So, so sad...

On this day, the Shandians learned that their own was sentenced to death and their bloody wings posted as a warning, a sign that any rebellion would be met with their last moments filled with terror. A warning to not disobey their new god. 

Many of the Shandians escaped and sought refuge in a village where Enel could not find them shortly after. It was best to find safety and face the new tyranny on top of this bitter war against the Skypians. The defectors were nothing more than traitors. It was best to leave them for dead than risk their own families.

As for what happened to Harmony? She was not the only child who lost her family because they stood against Enel. There were several others. The boys who did not die right away from the torture were killed off. Best to eliminate any possible adversaries. Better to be safe than sorry. Only the girls were spared as they could be useful as they reach adulthood. Yet the treatment they received was not much better. Most of the girls passed away from their injuries. Several more succumb to infection caused by their own wounds. All of them cast aside like the adult defectors, forever forgotten by enemies and their own kin. Harmony was deemed unattractive by her burns. “Damaged goods” as what her captors said, but may have some use as they learned she survived. 

Despite everything, Harmony refused to die. She couldn’t surrender. That is never an option. That’s just how she was raised by Shandian warriors. She beat the odds set upon her, fighting with all her strength, just to survive another day. But she knew she may die if she stayed under Enel’s rule. Her time was running out when he or his minions could demand more from her. The girl can’t bear the thought of what may happen from the horrors she witnessed here. Though it was dangerous, the teen knew she must escape. It is better to risk it for freedom than die as a slave. 

 One night, Harmony decided to act on a plan she concocted. She managed to slip away, hoping to make it out to Angel Island. Sadly, there was a snag that alerted security and there was hell to pay. At that point, all that mattered was her attempt was an offense. She was lucky to be alive and serve, but she threw it away by trying to run away. Death was the only solution to this. Enel’s gift in attacking others with lightning broke her makeshift raft and she soon found herself swept away, clinging to a remnant of the raft as the harsh current shoved her to and fro, just barely escaping the god’s attacks. She was swept away and it was thought that she drowned. 

But fate had other plans. Harmony’s stubborn nature kept her alive as she held on to the large piece of wood that wa sleft of her raft. She climbed on when the current calmed as she drifted further from Skypiea, unsure where she was going and if she will live. Soaked to the bone and shivering, the teen laid there, hoping and praying that she made the right choice as she left her home and entered a world like no other.

She would have passed away if it wasn’t for a pirate ship catching sight of her. A ship belonging to the Sea Warriors, a fierce crew led by Captain Bjørn the Berserker. Though he was a ruthless man known to strike fear into the hearts of men, he had weaknesses to women and children. Though some people may jeer at Bjørn for being kind to women and children, his wrath will have them not dare chuckle at his actions. He was not called the Berserker without reason. Upon seeing Harmony, he had pity on the child and ordered his men to bring her onboard. It was there that he ordered his crew to never harm the child or he will have their heads. Harmony was afraid at first, vaguely remembering the stories of pirates and what they are capable of. But over time,  Bjørn slowly gained Harmony’s trust and she quickly won the hearts of others on the ship for her kind heart.  Bjørn saw her like his own child and treated her as such. He taught her how to fight, use the gun and sword, though she preferred the former. Harmony called him Uncle Bjørn and lived with the pirates. 

Though she is still embarrassed by no longer having her wings, and the scars still made people cringe by how ghastly they appear. There are nights when the phantom pain her wings torment her, just like the nightmares of Enel and how he took her family and her home. How she missed Skypiea and her own tribe. She longed to go home and be with her people again, but she knew it isn’t easy.

Her parents were defectors and though the Shandians strive to remain out of Enel’s reach, they may reject Harmony for what her parents have tried to do. She feared they will reject her for her old burns and the loss of her wings.  feared she would be rejected by her people. 

Her fear was so powerful, she dreaded the thought of returning to Skypeia.  Though they were liberated from Enel’s tyranny and the four hundred year war against the Skypians ended, she cannot bear to return for the memories and heartache are too strong, just like the fear of being deemed an outsider instead of being one of the Shandians.  And so, she remained with the pirates until she became an adult when something that bothered her became more intense. 

But, she feels she must do more than live the sheltered life on this ship. Yes, her needs are met, and she is safe for the most part, but there is something within her. A calling to see the world. She knew it was a harsh and cruel place as she has seen it firsthand. Yet, she did not abandon the kindness she carried since her birth. She wondered what would happen if she went out to see what this place has to offer. Could offering light and kindness in this dark world make a difference? At least a little bit? Perhaps it is wishful thinking from a foolish heart, but the desire to make a difference and put an end to the ugliness of human nature gnawed at her. It became too much to ignore!

 Her wanderlust grew stronger by the time she was nineteen. She came to Captain  Bjørn  requesting to leave the Sea Warriors as she craves for adventure and finding herself. 

Though  Bjørn was reluctant to let her go as he knew the cruelty that existed in thei dangerous world, he agreed. He gave her a small fortune from his treasure and his prized pistol before seeing her leave the Sea Warriors. He made sure to remind her that if she ever changes her mind, search for the Sea Warriors and they will welcome her back.

Harmony gave her guardian one more embrace, tearfully thanking him for everything before she set off from the ship before it left her behind on an island that she chose to start her journey. She recalls some sniffles and a few men hiding in the shadows to weep. The Sea Warriors became a family to her. A rowdy one, but they all cared for her and grew attached to the child they watched grew up to a woman. One who is ready to see the world and find herself.

[life-rewritten]

The Relationship of Tul and Tin A chance to love episode 5 vs Naruto and Heirs (a comparison) Part 2/2

I find it fascinating that the works of two of my favourite authors' work have a lot of connections though they write for two different genres. One is Kim Eun Sook a Korean drama writer with the work known as Heirs (This wasn't her best work, but it's what I will be analysing today) and Two is Mame, a Thai writer with the work A chance to love. At first, I thought the similarities don't add anything when analysing the show. Still, after episode  5 of ACTL, I ended up running back to the Heirs and realising the amount of analysis derived from putting the two together. We're going to focus on Tin and Tul, two brothers that are placed in the spotlight in episode 5 of ACTL and we're going to try and understand the characterisation of Tul. Is he really evil cold-hearted and cruel for no reason, or is there a part of humanity still with this character. Let's find out. Read the first post here to know more about the similarities between the two and what they show about Tul’s character. 

So is Tul as evil as we think he is or is he just someone whose layers need to be uncovered to sympathise and understand?

TUL & TIN A BREAKDOWN

I found these two's dynamic so interesting, there's no doubt from the past analysis that Tul is not emotionally capable of feeling the amount of hurt or pain he's caused Tin or Hin perhaps, he's full of vengeance and has formed an automatic ego self-defence mode to survive and conquer. To get revenge and prove the grandma wrong, he has to be the number one son, and he has to take the assets. For his mother, he has to hate Tin and Tin's mum for being the reason for why she suffered. And for the path, he was forced to go on. Whilst he does love his son (he names his son after Hin) he remains bitter about what that cost him to have, he stays determined to keep preventing any chance of humanity entering in or making him weak especially when it comes to Tin.

The exciting thing is Tul is the one who raised Tin, Tin saw him as his pseudo father figure, cherished and wanted to be like him. Tul spoilt Tin so much as he admits in his story, he says he did it to ruin Tin to ensure that his own personality was nastier and people wouldn't be able to deal with him, but I find my self struggling with this. If Tul could take care of Tin so well before he reached the age (where he'd be seen as a threat) it suggests a little bit of care for his brother, perhaps he doesn't realise it like Won with Tan from Heirs the series (again read the previous post), maybe he's too damaged to let it happen. Still, he manages to make Tin trust him wholeheartedly only to ruin his trust in people and the world that way.

ITACHI VS TUL

This leads me to another comparison with two brothers, Sasuke and Itachi from Naruto, From Sasuke's vengeful perspective he looked up to Itachi so much that it was a shock when his brother killed his whole family and told Sasuke he means nothing but a rival. Itachi tells Sasuke to grow up filled with hate to overtake him, but he mocks and belittles and tells Sasuke he'd never be able to. After Sasuke kills Itachi, that's when he realises the truth; his brother was made that way as a killing machine by the environment. His number one treasure was Sasuke, he wanted to protect Sasuke in the environment and so kept pushing him away to turn him powerful and to keep him safe. When watching Naruto, the clues were clear that Itachi letting Sasuke live (after taking care of him so well even when he didn't have time) and telling him to become stronger hints that he's not as bad as we're led to believe.

I think this is the same for Tul and Tin, Tul maybe this vengeful, resentful villain but the reason why he does what he does to Tin is kind of for his own good. In his own flashback to his son, he admits he had to stop Tin from being spoilt and hurting others; he had to punish him and teach him a lesson. It all sounds sinister, but it's actually like Itachi, Tul has seen the environment, has suffered from the family, and even in the flashback Tin can see and is angry at the way they treat his brother. Still, he doesn't even know the half of it, he doesn't know what the grandma did to Tul, and he didn't know that Tul was in so much pain, this is because Tul only showed him the positive mask. Tul making Tin stop trusting in people, showing Tin he's a villain, or betraying Tin to make him grow up is for his own good in a fucked up way, he does it to make Tin grow and mature, he does it to make Tin start to protect himself, realise his naivety about people (we see how many people try to manipulate and use him for money), and to stop trusting in their family dynamics. It's after Tul hurts Tin that Tin realises the shallowness of his mother, the harshness of his world, and competition embedded to separate him and Tul from the start.

Tul basically made Tin become colder, more observant and more protective towards himself and his own assets. Like Sasuke, Tin is determined to reach the inner parts of his brother and find out why he is the way he does, like Sasuke, Tin is full of resentment and hatred but still wants the love his brother shows for his son. Both have been made into products of their traumatic environment and have been deemed destined to be against each other. Tul is psychologically damaged, it will be hard for him to come back from what has happened to him, luckily for Tin, Can shows up and is the light he needs to stop feeling suffocated or needing to be strong to survive. Tin like Tan from Heirs matures and grow and understands by the end the reason for why his family dynamics are the way it is. Unfortunately for Tul right now the one person who maybe can poke at his walls and his 'breath'/ 'rock' to lean on is not near him, so it depends on that relationship to see if he will become 'good'.

TUL’S HUMANITY

There are instances of humanity shown from Tul; he does love his son, he does cherish Hin and hates when he gets hurt by anyone especially Tin, and he does feel grateful for Tin taking care of his son.

Another proof is the people around him, his own son loves and cherishes him and feels warmth from him, (he's not cruel or evil to him, so much so Tin is jealous of that) and Hin loves him from what we can see. Hin worries and cares for Tul's well being meaning that as harsh as he is, he can be loved, vulnerable and exposed.

But also It's his admission in episode 5, he hates who he has become, he warns his son to never end up like him, he hates that he was made to be this way. This suggests that he's not a villain that enjoys harming others, but he's a person who has been turned into someone that needs to harm others and get revenge, to survive. He sacrificed his heart for the chance to get to the top just like Won did.

In a way, though he sacrificed so much to protect himself and the people he cares about (I bet that's why he ended up giving in and marrying or to get that girl pregnant, to protect Hin probably) and to keep his family reputation intact just like Won does at the end of heirs. Mame characters are dark, twisted, incredibly flawed. Still, there's this depth to them that can never fully be exposed; there's conflicts of morality, societal norms/perceptions on the character's actions and also conflicts about nature vs nurture. When is it okay to be a villain, can love really be found between two damaged people (Tul and Hin) and is it love or is it toxic. Can a character ever fully develop when he's been pushed to no point of return, can the character's actions be forgiven once the truth about them is unveiled? It's why I love this writer's universe. It's why I'm obsessed with this show.

[geeky-introvert]

Good Girl I . Ivar X OC

Summery: Enar was just a girl from a fishing village when Viking’s raided her town and found herself thrown into a life of slavery, and that wasn’t just it. She was given to Prince Ivar as his own personal slave by his mother and she’ll do whatever it took to survive on her own in the cruel world....

Word count: 5444

Warning: Slavery, slight dub-con and smut.

Tag List: @lisinfleur @mdlady @didiintheblog @alicedopey @lupy22@rekdreams247 @mblaqgi @oddsnendsfanfics@aphnxrising @happydaysandersen @therealcalicali @naaladareia@inforapound @captstefanbrandt @waiting4inspiration @tabalugax @p8tn0lish

If anyone else wants to be added to the tag list let me know please.

Gif credit goes to @allvikingsfanfic

It felt like her existing life had been ripped away. They had come out from the fogs off the shores and raided the fishing village she lived in with her parents, both of whom were dead, slashed and cut down like they were nothing. She had tried to escape and fought back but never had a chance as she was tossed over a bloodied shoulder and carried back to their boats with her broken sobs deaf to the ears.

The journey was unpleasant and after days at sea they had arrived back to Kattegat.

Most of the new slaves were taken to be sold to the highest bidder while a small handful of them were shoved aside like they were for someone else, her being one of them. A woman approached them gracefully; her elegant beauty couldn’t be missed by anyone. She was Queen Aslaug of Kattegat.

Enar had knots twisting in her stomach with her eyes staring down at the floor boards, her small frame shook with fear as the queen stopped in front of her. Long slender fingers lifted her chin up forcing her to look at the queen and her enthralled beauty. Tears couldn’t be stopped as they streamed down her rosy cheeks.

Aslaug looked closely at the young girl with curiosity, looking over her creamy pale skin and light brown hair, dark blue orals like the depths of the sea. Despite her being covered in dirt, dried blood which wasn’t her own and knots all through her hair with tear stained cheeks from her puffy eyes, the queen saw all past this. She looked inside her mouth for a quick moment and smiled warmly at the young girl. She than had Enar brought to the hall with others she had picked out for slaves.

When entering the great hall the slaves were taken away by another to show them of their duties. Enar was about to follow suit when she felt a hand over her shoulder, prevent her from going anywhere else.

“You will remain here, this way, child.”

Aslaug lead her over to the large dinning table and had her sit down. Enar did as she was told. If she was to survive the brutal life she knew she would need to obey and accept the new life, as much has her heart still ached from the loss of her parents and her home, she had to move on to survive.

The queen watched her in silence with a tilt from her head, like she was pondering what to do with her next. She could only fiddle with her hands nervously in her lap and took deep breaths to give her any sort of comfort.

“Tell me, child, what is your name?” No harshness came from her.

“Enar, your grace.” She answered with a quiet voice earning the queens smile to linger.

“You are still young, Enar.” Aslaug commented. “I believe you have a good heart and are nurturing.” Leaning forward she grasp Enar’s hands softly in her own. “Do you promise to be loyal and commit yourself as a slave?”

Enar was caught off guard. She could only stare at the queen with her mouth gaping, words failing to fall out as the silence lingered. Perhaps she wanted her to be her own personal slave, an important position she guessed, and the queen seemed to be kind to her, for the time being that was. She was on her own to survive with no one else to protect her and had to make her own choices in life, and with that thought she answered what she believed was right.

“Yes, your grace.”

“I knew you would say that, I just had to hear it from you.” The way she said it sounded strange but didn’t question the queens meaning by it.

The sound of something dragging along the ground got Enar’s attention and looked over at the entrance to see a young man crawling towards them. She narrowed her brows in confusion before noticing his legs were bound together with a brace, and figured he was a cripple. Not wanting to be rude she forced her eyes away and stared in front of her. From the corners of her eyes she saw him pushing himself up into a chair at the table, letting out a grunt as he settled himself comfortably.

“Where have you been all morning, Ivar?” Aslaug asked with concern.

“Sparring with my brothers, mother.” He smiled with a dramatic roll from his eyes.

“The distance is too long for you to go on your own, why didn’t any of your brothers help you back?”

Enar felt Aslaug’s love for her son, a warm motherly feeling she was familiar with. It was something was she never going to have again and never stopped to think just how much she really missed it. Ivar though didn’t look that much older than her, not a little boy like Aslaug spoke to him.

“I am capable, mother,” He then noticed Enar.

She felt his cold and alluring blue eyes lingering over her like a frozen spear was about to be thrown. Never had she seen eyes so beautiful and deadly at once. A shiver broke through her as their eyes met, his gaze roaming over her deep in thought before showing an amused smile.

“Who is this?”

“This is Enar, she is a new slave.” She felt the queens fingers brushing over her hair in gentle strokes like she was trying to calm her, but it only made her uncomfortable, especially from her next words. “I am giving her to you as your own.”

She felt like she had just been tricked by the queen into thinking falsely, but remembered she didn’t clarify what she wanted her for, she just misjudged. And now she was to be her son’s own slave. Her eyes met with his again with a hint of fear, he stared back only lightly surprised before giving a wide pleased smile.

“She is mine?” He sounded like an excited little boy with a new toy which didn’t settle well for her. His mother nodded.

“Yes. She has a kind heart and has given her loyalty. I’m sure she will do well for you, my son.” She stopped stroking her hair and called over another slave. “Margrethe, have her bathed and clothed.”

She followed Margrethe out the hall, feeling nothing but Ivar’s piercing eyes on her and his cruel smile stretched wide forcing her to quiver under his dark gaze.

Enar felt grateful as Margrethe helped washing away her grimy skin and relaxed under the tenderness from her fingers as she massaged her scalp while washing her hair. Margrethe offered kind smiles and spoke to her. She had learned that Margrethe had been a slave for Aslaug’s and her sons for quite some time now and that she was treated well.

“Will Ivar treat me well if I obey him?” She had hoped.

The dreaded look from Margrethe didn’t settle well. “He can be unpredictable, and his anger can be quiet terrifying. All I can offer for advice is to be careful around him.” If it meant for her survival she’ll take it.

Once dressed Margrethe lead her back into the great hall and over to Ivar who had waited very impatiently for them.

“It is about time.” He spat towards Margrethe.

“I am sorry, Ivar.” it was all she could say with her head hung low.

He waved her away with annoyance and looked upon Enar standing away from him before he structured her to come forward with his finger.

“Come closer, slave.”

Enar willed herself to move forward with nervous steps towards him. She had to prove him that she was going to obey and not cause any trouble, that was the las thing she wanted to do, and had to make it easier on herself too. When she was close enough Ivar reached out grabbing at her skirt and pulled her forcefully to him, causing a small frightened gasp from her as their eyes met. His eyes stared at her like a hungry wolf gleaming in delight.

Ivar bit his lips while holding a giddy smile as both his hands reached around her and groped her rear, his fingers digging into her roughly causing her to bite back a whimper and closed her eyes to avoid his predatory gaze.

She trembled with every passing second his hands touched her inappropriately before he stopped with his harsh treatment and started rubbing her rear almost lovingly. From the other end of the table Aslaug watched them while drinking wine, curios to see if Enar meant by her word, and she did.

“You are very pretty,” he told her, “I would hate for your face to be damaged.” His threat was clear but showed no motive to harm her, yet. “Do you truly swear upon all the gods to obey me?” Swallowing back a lump she met his lingering gaze with a firm nod.

“I swear.”

“You will answer to me as master, is that understood?”

“Yes, master.”

“Good girl.” He pushed her away and removed his leather vest around him and held it out to her. “Stitch the loose threading, can you manage that?” She already had knowledge and skills with sewing thanks to her mother.

“Yes, master.” She could only force a shy smile.

During dinner, Enar was told to sit next to him as she nearly finished with the sewing. His hand lay over her thigh, rubbing and tightening his hold as if he was reminding her of her position, like she needed reminding. She could only try staying focused on the stitching and adjust to his warm hand on her.

The smell of the food laying out the table hit her senses like rocks thrown at her. She took a glance at the presented food before focusing on her stitching again to distract her. Her stomach made a painful gurgle and when Ivar heard it he snickered in amusement before picking at his food again.

The silence in the great hall was uplifted when more people entered with loud chatted and laughter among each other as they seated along the table. They were Ivar’s older brothers, Ubbe, Hvitserk, and Sigurd.

“You are late,” Aslaug bluntly said resting the rim of her wine at her chin.

“We are here now,” Sigurd said without care. Ubbe had thrown some food at Hvitserk making them laugh at one another, and it would’ve continued if their mother didn’t stop it.

“You are men, not children. Now eat.”

As Ubbe was piling his food he turned to face Ivar only for his gaze to be met with Enar. He practically dropped the food he held and stared in awe at her with a ghostly smile. Although his smile was gentle, his eyes held a lustful stare that sent shivers through her as their gazes held.

“Hello, what is your name?” She tensed when Ivar tightened his hand over her thigh like he was warning her.

“Enar….”

“That is a beautiful name, I’m Ubbe.” He tried charming her with kind words.

Hvitserk and Sigurd had finally looked over at her and now she had the three older brothers staring at her with the same gaze and smiles. Feeling uncomfortable she looked down at her stitching, finishing off the last bit with their lingering stares remaining on her. Ivar’s hand on her thigh continued to stroke her and gave a few gentle pats, as like he was praising her for not giving them any attention.

“Enar is a new slave and she is mine, not for you to rut.” Ivar clarified his brothers. They gave confused expressions.

“Ivar, you have to share, you cannot be greedy.” Said Ubbe with Hvitserk agreeing.

“I don’t like sharing.” Ivar growled while Sigurd scoffed.

“She is a slave and we can do as we like with her. You have no claim.”

“Actually mother gave her to me which means she is mine.” He proudly said. Sigurd shook his head in disapproval.

“You cannot give him his own slave.” He directed to his mother.

“And why is that, Sigurd?”

“He will kill her, it will be a waste. As princes we should be allowed to bed whatever slave we want.”

“Yes, you are right.” The brothers stared at their mother holding hope that she would allow it. “You may bed whoever you please, you are princes and there are many thralls for you to share. I gave Ivar his own because I think it would be good for him to have someone his age that is kind and loyal. Enar is Ivar’s the keep and if any of you wish to bed her you will need to discuss it with Ivar. I will not be a part of this argument any further.” Aslaug made it clear and went back to eating silently, ignoring her sons for the rest of the evening.

Enar’s face was burning with embarrassment as they all spoke about her like she wasn’t in the same room. She had tried just focusing on her last stitching as the silence lingered before Ubbe spoke.

“Ivar, at least think about it-“

“No!” he shouted slamming his fit against the table causing her to jump from his outburst. “Go stick your prick in Margrethe if you want to fuck something.”

They wanted to argue more but with no support from their mother and their brother’s refusal they gave up their attempts and returned to their meals. It won’t be the last time, when they get the chance they’ll make an advantage at her.

Just knowing what they were after made her feel very uncomfortable. Her mother had given her the talk on how sex happened, and the reason they had this talk was because her parents wanted her to be happy with someone she loved and to not be fooled. Getting married and having a family of her own was only a few of her desires and even though she was still young she dreamed of her future husband for many nights. That dream was no more. She was a slave now to a prince and what he had planned for her she didn’t know.

“I’m finished, master,” he took his vest back with a broad smile and admired her neat threading.

“Well done, Enar.” He purred her name softly, sending an odd feeling through her body and a warm heating at her cheeks.

He noticed this and snickered softly as he pushed his plate of food in front of her offering his left overs. It was still food, and so she gave a warm yet frightened smile.

“Thank you, master.”

Enar had to quickly learn her place and adjust to the new life suddenly thrown at her. As horrible as it was she learned to accept as she didn’t see herself fighting for her freedom would go so well. She was alive and that’s what mattered, at least that was what she told herself.

Every night she would draw him a bath and help bathe him, at first it was awkward seeing his full self and his deformed legs but it was a duty he expected from her. He had threatened her that if she ever touched his leg’s he’ll kill her, a simple and clear threat didn’t need to be repeated. His legs never bothered her and never touched or questioned about them.

She had expected to be sleeping in the barn like the other slaves; Ivar however wanted her in his own bed. The thought of sharing his bed had frightened her as she had thought the worst that he was going to have his way with her. That didn’t happened though, and instead he had wrapped his arms around her burying his face into her waist like a little boy clinging onto their mother for comfort. At first she was a little baffled but and slowly sympathised for him understanding that all he wanted was some sort of comfort, probably to deal with his pain from his legs.

Ivar was difficult to predict with his cruel playful stares and malice smiles. He would toy around with her most days, touching her and holding her close as if the wind was going to carry her away, she didn’t resist as he did this knowing he wouldn’t be pleased if she refused.

In the four months she had learned more about Ivar and his brothers. The relationship with Ubbe and Hvitserk was normal along wth their eldest half-brother Bjorn was a terrifying man to look at but hadn’t shown must attention to her, while with Sigurd it was strained. There was one time Ivar and Sigurd had an argument or disagreement about something and Sigurd stormed away with a smug grin like he had won. Ivar’s nostrils flared and his anger boiled with fury, and wanted to hurt something, and the closest thing happened to be Enar. She was pulled to the ground letting out a surprised yelp and pinned down with his hand at her throat, his grip tightening with the life struggling in her.

She had panicked and reached out to Ivar’s face giving him soothing strokes, chocking words with plea for air to sooth him however she could. He had realised what he had done and loosened his hold allowing her to breathe again. His thumb rubbed her sore neck and even placed a kiss on the area making her gasp under the tender moment under him. It confused her to see his personality change so quickly. He let her up and carried on as if nothing happened.

Even though Ubbe and Hvitserk were friendly they were also a problem with their obsession and desire for her. They had tried on many occasions to approach and to get her alone with either of them. There was even one time during a feast Hvitserk had distracted Ivar while Ubbe had took her hand and led her to the other end of the hall in the furthest corner where no one would disturb them. She had tried to get away but he only held her around her waist and held her close to him with his charming smile. His sweet words were whispered into her ear trying to coax her into his allure before he had tried kissing her, but she only rolled her away and managed to wiggle out of his hold and she ran back into Ivar’s lap knowing that was the safest place for her. Ivar was quick to pick up on what had happened and was pretty angry with his brothers for attempting to steal his thrall. They wanted to share her in their beds and continued to try and wager something with Ivar, he of course turned down everything they could offer.

At dinners she continued to feel their fond stares on her and hope for her to meet their gaze at least once but she never did. It wasn’t as if she hated them, they were kind but their sexuality was too wild. Sigurd would glare at Ivar with jealousy before looking away with a scoff.

She found herself settled more in Ivar’s lap over time while she felt a safety wall built around her the closer she was with him. Ivar felt rather pleased how his slave was so well behaved and even more seeing how jealous his brothers were of him having her all for himself. Just to annoy them more he even played with her hair while she fed him fruits. He would suck her fingers and kiss her knuckles with a gleaming smile as she gave a shy smile in return. She knew the game and went along with it, knowing it please Ivar, which meant a happy Ivar.

As the months passed she was became settled more and grew used to the life suddenly thrown at her. Nothing had changed, but all that was about to change.

Enar carried a heavy pitcher of boiled water over to the basin while Ivar waited for his bath to be prepared for him. She felt his eyes watching her which was no surprise, he always watched her, but for some reason she felt it was different than other times. Looking up she met his gaze with a gentle smile, something she had grown used to doing when they met eyes and he would always smirk or grin back, but this time his expression was black. It was like he was searching for something and couldn’t find it, almost lost. Her smile disappeared and looked away as she poured the last pitcher into the basin.

She helped him undress and removed his bracers for him leaving only his trousers on. It was only recently that he allowed her to do it, his trust slowly growing as she continued to serve him. When she went to stand he grabbed her wrist and pulled her forcefully almost making her fall forward against him. Her breathe caught in her throat when their noses bumped and felt his hot breathe against her skin. He stared at her with his dark gaze and rolled his tongue on the inside of his cheek.

“Remove my pants.”

She didn’t question and carefully pulled them down his legs. They had their ups and downs, there were rare days Ivar wanted to chat and she would sit and listen, intrigued by his knowledge, and most days he would be demanding and short tempered, and she learned to act quick to avoid disappointing him.

Enar helped him into the basin and started to gently wash his body with the wet rag. She had only just started at his arm when he spoke.

“Do my legs disgust you?”

“No, master.”

“Why?” He sounded bitter, like he was expecting her to say ‘yes’.

“You cannot change how you were born, it is who you are. Your legs shouldn’t bother anyone.”

The change in his eyes softened at her words. “Do you have siblings?”

“No, master, I am an only child.” And orphan. It still hurt to think about it.

“Hm…Sometimes I feel like one too.” He must’ve had a fight with his brothers again.

“Is there anything I can do to make you happy, master?”

Ivar stared blankly ahead for a moment before facing her. His pupils dilated with a new kind of thrill as he bit his bottom lip in thought, a smug smirk tugging at his lips.

“Take off your clothes.”

The rag was dropped into the water with a wet splash as she froze at his command. She met his eyes frozen in her shock filled her position kneeling at the side of the basin and stare dumbfounded at him. When she did or said nothing he gave her a hard glare.

“You said anything. Are you refusing me, slave?”

Enar breathed through her mouth trying to calm her raising heart and trying to form words clearly. “I-I…Master I….-“

“Did you suddenly become deaf?” She was making him angry and didn’t want that. For months she had done everything he had said but this was something completely different. There was no choice for her though and she knew that.

“No, master.” she finally answered him in a low voice.

Ivar leaned closer to the edge and took her chin into his rough fingers. “Take off your clothes. I won’t repeat myself again. Than join me.”

Enar promised herself she would do whatever it took to survive even if it meant giving herself away, and so she complied. “Yes, master.”

With shaky hands she moved the dress from her shoulders and down her arms, pulling them free from the sleeves and hesitantly rolling down her waist while holding what she could at her chest. She held her dignity for a moment longer, her glassy eyes staring at him before letting the dress pool around her ankles. Her breath hitched as she felt the cold air bit her skin with Ivar’s eyes looking her up and down with lustful eyes, tongue dipping out to lick his lips while admiring her fresh body. She let out a shaky exhale as she stepped into the basin being careful to not hurt his legs and lowered herself into his exposed lap.

Ivar grabbed at her waist and pulled her against him letting her small breasts pressing against his chest. The sudden movement made her shutter a gasp and hands resting over his shoulders for some kind of support as his hands rubbed around her hips.

“That wasn’t so hard now was it?” He said with a hint of amusement and lifted the rag between them.

“N-no, master,” she could only take the rag and start to wash down his chest again with shaky breaths.

She didn’t know how long she had been washing his chest for. All she could feel were his hands roaming over her naked self and moving up to her breasts groping them making her whimper quietly. Something warm and thick touched between her thighs and knew soon enough it was his cock which was rising slowly. Ivar looked down between them with curios eyes and let out a quiet breathily laugh making it sound like relief.

“Are you a virgin?”

“Y-yes, master.” she shuttered.

A generally warm and achy tingling swelled in her belly and squirmed in his lap trying to ease the off feeling, but only made it grow more when she rubbed her folds against his growing cock and the distracting feel only boiled more. Her skin felt flushed under his roaming fingers, mapping her hips and waist with a satisfied grin.

He wanted to do things to her he had seen his brothers do to the slave, Margrethe. Spying on them had been the only way for him to know what women liked, and he wanted to try it with Enar. Eventually Ubbe did tell him a few things, about how it was best for women to be wet before entering them, and that was what he was going to seek out.

His hands moved up her body over her shoulder and another behind her neck. He was nervous as he moved forward and pressed his lips against hers. Her first kiss was warm and tender. Enar didn’t push away or refuse him. She liked it, and deepened the kiss more from her end earning a low moan from him. It was only quick before the kiss was broken and their foreheads touched, eyes glazed deeply into one another. Ivar’s eyes were truly memorizing.

A deep feral sound came from him before he lunged at her, biting her lips and invading her mouth with his tongue, devouring her and holding her body tightly in place. She could only hold onto his shoulders and let out a muffled wince against the harsh kiss, willing herself to not pull away from him.

The water swished in the basin as they moved in motion with the kiss, his cock rock hard and rubbing between their joined bodies. Enar felt lost in the moment she had not become aware of his hand that was lowering down between them before she felt his fingers touching her heated core.

It was unexpected and fear gripped her chest as she pulled away from the kiss with a half squeaked gasp. Ivar gave her a warning glare before pulling forcefully against him again, holding her down and started kissing her neck and down towards her collarbone, all the while his finger moved over her warm folds, right before he pressed his finger into her, entering her tight entrance.

Enar let out a broken sob as his finger invaded her tight depths. It hurt a little to have his rough finger stroking her walls moving back and forth with his hot breath hitting her neck. The dual pain was turning into new sensual feeling bubbling up in her stomach, it left her confused from what she was feeling as he continued fingering her. She felt moister soaking up his finger into her depths and furrowed her brows before remembering her mother telling her once about it. It was a good thing.

“You are so wet for me.” Ivar whispered licking the shell of her ear, “such a good girl.”

She willed herself to relax and adjust to him. Closing her eyes she started to moan lowly with rocking her waist against his hand, the movement caused the tingling warmth to rise up and soon rested her head against his chest, continuing to rock against him and moan gently.

Ivar chuckled lightly and licked his lips feeling rather pleased with himself. His cock was aching and didn’t want to delay anymore. He removed his finger from her and quickly adjusted the both of them. Lining himself he pressed his cock against her folds and stole another kiss, right before shoving her down onto him roughly.

Her pained scream was muffled against his lips sealing any loud sounds from her. Pain throbbed around her core as his thick cock twitched against her stretched walls, his hands held her still on him by her hips savouring the feeling of her tightness. Tears streamed down her face and he broke away from the kiss to lick them clean while hearing her quiet weeping vibrated against his ear.

A small bit of blood mixed with the water surrounding them and he licked his lips at the sight of it. He started to rock her against him, moving her hips in his hands as he let out a shuttered breath and engulfed the bliss surround his cock. “So wet, so tight.” He moaned smiling. “Such a good girl for me.”

The feeling of his shaft stretching and moving within had been painful to endure at first, and as the pain duelled growing pleasure was rousing within. Her heat pounded, fear and pleasure mixing together with what was happening and started to rock against his shaft, moans rising from her lips as the warmth continued to boil within.

As she started to move on her own Ivar moved his hands down to her rear, gripping and spreading them as he tipped his head back letting out pleased groans. The water continued to splash over the edge of the basin as their movements grew more intense with Enar grinding against his cock.

Ivar moved up and pulled her against him and snarled harshly into her ear. “Do you like it? Do you like it when I fuck you?”

“Y-yes, master.” She managed to whimper.

“How does it feel?”

“It feels good! S-so good…” She answered in a hoarsely whisper.

“Good.” He grinned with a hiss. “Say my name!”

“I-Ivar, it–ah!” She whimpered trying to speak words against the rising pleasure rushing throughout her. “S-something’s happening? I cannot–Ivar!”

Her words broke feeling herself tighten around his cock and threw back her head with a soft cry, pleasure bursting all over and toes curled back as Ivar snarled like a beast feeling her reach her peak with his own approaching very close. Lunging forward he bit into her shoulder marking her as his and gave a few more brutal thrusts with his strong hips before erupting himself in her depths with his seed.

The water had lost most of its heat but neither of them cared. Ivar held her close letting out heavy pants as she leaned her head against his shoulder and both arms wrapped around his neck.

His fingers stroked over her bleeding shoulder where he marked her and admired his work. She made small wince from the wound. No doubt it would sting for a while which only made him smirk, knowing it might scar so everyone knew who she belonged to.

“I’m going to keep you forever, only I will ever be your master. Do you understand?” His response was a tired nuzzle earning a soft laugh from him. “I know you are tired, my pet, but I need you to answer for me.”

“I understand, master.”

“Good girl.”

[real-jaune-isms]

RWBY Volume 7 Chapter 13 (Finale) Rundown

It’s been a month or two since the finale aired, and honestly I needed that time to organize my thoughts on it and what I think may happen next. And I was busy becoming an art major. That too. Oh, and a little thing called COVID-19.

So our season finale begins with one of the fights we had most been looking forward to, JNR and Oscar vs Neo. Jaune wants to avoid a fight and tells her to surrender since she’s outnumbered, but Neo is too confident in her capabilities and just draws her parasol blade. So Nora and Ren start shooting at her to no effect and rush in for melee combat. Also ineffective at first, she just dodges and blocks and counters. Even Ren’s new grapple line blades do next to nothing, she just does a split to dodge under his flying kick. Oscar runs in to attack with his cane, but she counters and flips him into the air with the lamp getting knocked off his belt and being in the air between them. Both thrust their sticks to try and catch it, but Oscar gets it first and sticks his landing. Neo just starts slashing at him as he backs away, and Jaune steps between them to repel her with his shield’s gravity Dust burst. One thing you notice pretty quickly about the fight is how casually Neo seems to be taking it, taunting her opponents the whole time by making faces and being theatrical with her every move. It’s maddening, but it’s the attitude we came to expect from her after Volumes 2 and 3. Teamwork seems the best move, so Nora launches Ren through the air at the ice cream demon while Oscar holds her legs so she can’t move out of the way. Too bad her Semblance is still pretty OP and Ren just shatters an apparently fake Neo. They check down the corridors for any sign of her but instead see Atlesian soldiers who chase after them on Ironwood’s orders.

Back to the battle of the seasons, Penny flies at Cinder with a high speed punch that sends her back into the hallway but she just catches it and uses her Grimm arm to toss her around a bit. Winter attacks with a flock of tiny Nevermore summons before charging in herself with a sword slash, though both do little to phase the nimble Maiden. She summons two glass swords of her own to fight back, and seems to have the advantage. She even takes the time to lecture Winter on how Atlas’s elite hoard so much power in the hopes of maintaining it forever, and how that just starves the rest of the world. It seems like she really means it once starved her, and she refuses to starve again. Some hints of what may have been her tragic backstory here, which I would be very interested to learn in greater detail even if it absolutely won’t redeem her character from the cruel and insane devil she is. I just want to see how she got to this point, where this lust for power came from. It’s certainly ironic that she’s complaining about other people hoarding power when she’s going around stealing Maiden powers all for herself when those were literally made to be divided among four people. Penny re-enters the fight with her swords on strings, but Cinder’s reflexes are apparently on the level of Ultra Instinct since she’s able to dodge and block all her spinning blades AS WELL as Winter’s attacks once she draws her second sword and joins in again. The two are at least able to avoid getting hit in return, but the whole is just going nowhere fast even if they’re blocking her way back into Fria’s room. So Cinder lashes out and flies at them with all her might, grabbing them both by the neck and rocketing through the other wall of the medical room... to reveal this secret room was not in a subbasement as we may have assumed but the top floor of a skyscraper. Now they’re all in the open air and Winter is the odd one out since... y’know, she can’t fly. She doesn’t make things better for herself by stabbing Cinder’s hand and making her drop the Specialist. With only one person to worry about now, Cinder tosses Penny away and kicks a flaming sword her way. Penny catches it, but didn’t expect it to explode and knock her back some more. The two have a floating standoff with Cinder becoming increasingly frustrated and calling Penny a toy, as if she’s Tom Hanks in 1995. But her attention is brought elsewhere as she’s hit by a blast of ice. In one of the most badass sights this Volume has offered, Winter is flying on the back of a summoned Manticore. The 2v1 fight resumes in this airborne setting, and Cinder has a harder time dodging and countering their speedy strikes while also focusing her powers on staying in flight. But when she and Winter charge at each other, her sword is unfortunately able to cut through the summon and leave Winter in a freefall. As if to add vindictive insult to injury, she also shoots a fireball at the Schnee that takes down her Aura. Satisfied with her work, Cinder flies back to the building while Penny is left with the choice of following her and dutifully protecting the Maiden powers or saving Winter. She makes the right choice, and saves her friend. Winter thinks she should have just been left to die, that she matters less than the mission. But Penny disagrees.

Back with JNRO, they’re still running from the Atlas soldiers. Whatever scuffle Oscar had with Neo before the others came along is now wearing on him and he begins to fall behind. In all the rushing through the labyrinth of hallways, he gets separated from the group. Just as he’s lost hope of rejoining the others and the guards are just around the corner, the farmboi gets pulled into an empty room and kept quiet via a hand over his mouth by... Nora? A very silent and smiling Nora... A Nora who suddenly lunges at him with a lace parasol... okay this is clearly not Nora. This is clearly Neo in a very cruel and deceptive disguise, as made clear by her eyes changing to the usual pink and brown when Oscar fortunately dodges out of the way of her attack and back into the hallway. Worse still, she swiped the Lamp from him in the heat of the moment, and the little devil makes a break for it. Jaune is looking for Oscar, but finds Neora instead, and she just dodges around him and springboards off his shield. Then... things get rough. She runs into Ren next... while looking like Nora. He still shoots at her as she barrels towards him but she just blocks with her parasol as she is want to do. When he meets her halfway and takes a jumping slash at her... she twists the knife in; changing her eyes back from her own determined mismatched pink and brown to Nora’s scared and confused turquoise. In that split second of seeing his beloved’s face staring at him with such fear, Ren hesitates and stops the attack, so she hits him in the face and trips him to the floor before running away some more. Jaune is still on her tail and runs past his dazed and shellshocked teammate. When he rounds the corner Neo had just headed down however, he only finds more Atlas soldiers firing at him. The real Nora comes running from gods know where and the three head back the way they came. Nora checks over her shoulder to see if they’re still being followed, but what’s more interesting is that Ren can be seen crying as he brings up the rear. Obviously he’s quite upset with how easily Neo could get him to hesitate just by posing as Nora and playing on his feelings for her. She probably didn’t realize just how complicated the Renora relationship is, but it worked perfectly in her favor. Ren’s tried to set aside his feelings but they’ve now dramatically affected his capacity to do his job. Like it or not, he HAS to talk about it or else everything is gonna implode. And of course, when we cut to see the armored soldiers chasing our heroes there’s also a more formally uniformed female officer in the back who goes sauntering off in the other direction. That was a very speedy costume change, you little sugar gremlin. Anyway, she got away with the Lamp. That’s no good.

What’s even less good is that we cut back to a temporarily black screen and the harsh wrenching sound of tearing metal. Turns out its the POV of Fria as she blinks back into consciousness and sees the satisfied face of Cinder as she starts a monologue about how the elder woman’s time is up. Fria admits she has been waiting for a good long while, but she can’t remember what or whom for. Cinder confidently informs her it was for this very moment. For her~ But as she goes for the Reverse Flash kill with her Grimm hand, the Winter Maiden shows off one of the reasons she’s survived this long. A good strong grip on Cinder’s wrist stopping her before she can make contact and keeping the Fall Maiden from getting any further. The hungry wolf won’t be gobbling up Granny tonight, deary. Faced with the tired but steadfast face of a woman who has likely lived and fought several times longer than Cinder has been alive, accented by the blue flame of her Maiden magic, the evil woman pulls back. But she’s persistent, and tries a glass dagger instead. That goes even worse, as a pulse of magic sends her flying backwards. With more magic on display than any Maiden we’ve seen before, Fria summons a cyclone of pure cold air and ice around herself and starts floating in the middle of it. Cinder’s Grimm fingers start to freeze (since they don’t have Aura like the rest of her body and thus get no protection from the cold, thank you for setting that concept up in episode 3 Weiss!) so she has to back away further. That becomes a full temporary retreat out of the room when the coldnado sends a pod door at her and the intensity only keeps increasing. Much like Professor Xavier in Logan, Fria is already very old and isn’t in the most stable state of mind anymore, so she loses control of the tempest and it busts a hole in the roof. Penny and Winter land a short distance away and marvel at the majestic chaos. Winter claims this is the power of a fully realized Maiden, which makes me wonder if Raven was able to do something similar or if it takes decades to unlock this kind of mastery. Winter tries to get in closer and reach Fria, but the blizzard winds are enough to destroy the material of her glove and leave her fingers red with chill. Something has to be done, but after the beating she took she’s in no shape to do it. So Penny jumps in instead, much to Winter’s dismay.

Continuing the hopscotch course of dismal vibes, we go back to JNRO as they’re hiding in the training room and Oscar is apologizing for having lost the lamp. Jaune tries to reassure him, but Ren is even more pessimistic. He doesn’t think they were ready to even become Huntsmen and Huntresses which is just so painful to hear. Nora of course disagrees, but Ren has a harsh rebuttal: if they’re ready and capable, then why don’t they have any of the relic they’re supposed to be protecting? Why haven’t they succeeded in their most important mission? Oscar seems even more hurt by this reminder, and Jaune puts on his serious leader voice to tell Ren that’s enough. I would half agree with Ren, and unfortunately its a half that blames him. It’s not that the team wasn’t ready for this, it’s that HE wasn’t EMOTIONALLY ready for this. Like I said before, Neo took advantage of his emotional state to make him hesitate and overwhelm him.  Their moping is interrupted by Pietro and Maria chiming in over their Scrolls. Was there any doubt that a genius like Dr. Polendina would be able to undo Ironwood’s communication shutdown?? We see Yang and Blake for the first time this episode as they shoot at Atlas robots and head for an airship, one which Maria is getting ready to pilot as their getaway vehicle. Nora informs her of their current hiding place, but the soldiers happen to close in at that moment and the three hide behind Jaune’s hard-light extended shield... wait. Three?? OH NO WE LOST THE BABY!!!! It would seem Oscar ran off on his own to try and fix things, and he insists they leave without him.

Back to the impending ice age, Penny is slowly making her way through the blizzard. Her foot gets frozen to the ground, but she hits the boot jets and it busts out again. There in the eye of the storm she finds Fria, and the android approaches carefully before gently touching her ankle to get her attention. The fire in the old lady’s eye dies down and she notices Penny. Penny is a of course a sweet and thoughtful girl and rather than demanding Fria stop the storm she just asks if she’s okay. Fria most certainly does not seem to feel okay, again mentioning that she had a job to do. She clarifies that she was supposed to protect the power of the Winter Maiden until the time came for her to pass them on. Penny notices the machines are broken and buried in a wall of ice, so the more safe transfer method is no longer possible. Fria laments that she may have taken longer to be ready for passing the powers along than she should have, but promises she’s ready now. She knows that means dying, that’s one thing she still remembers quite well. The elderly Maiden quiets the cyclone and floats down to collapse in Penny’s arms. Not gone yet, just weary, and hoping to learn the name of the sweet young lady who’s helping her like this. Penny gives her name, and now Fria asks the million lien question: Since Penny is suddenly showing up now after Fria’s only interactions being with Winter for so long... does that mean Penny is the One? The poor little android doesn’t know what to say to that, and for damn good reason. She knows Winter is supposed to be the one to get the Maiden powers, but she also knows Winter would use those powers to obey Ironwood’s cruel plans for Atlas and Mantle. If she takes the powers, she can make sure that doesn’t happen AND that they don’t fall into Cinder’s hands. But that would also mean betraying her boss and her orders, betraying her friend Winter. So what is she gonna do, what she’s been told to do or what she feels is right? This is the culmination of the struggle she’s been wrestling with the entire volume, nay her character’s entire existence! She is a creation of Atlas, but she is also a girl with a heart and soul of her own. Such a tragic clash of motivations! 

Speaking of motivations clashing, we cut down to Ironwood in the Atlas vault. He hears the hum of the elevator approaching and assumes it’s Winter coming to report Fria’s demise and her own acquisition of the Winter Maiden powers, and thus begins apologizing for making her perform such a morally dubious act. Instead he finds Oscar, posing rather seriously with Ozpin’s his cane and fixing James with his best look of fed up disapproval. With such a formal air about him, James has every reason to suspect Oz is back at the helm and asks which of the two he has the pleasure of addressing. It’s just Oscar though, but Oscar is plenty on his own. James thankfully doesn’t yet know that Oscar has lost the Lamp and thinks he just chose not to bring it down here with him, acknowledging that he isn’t very trustworthy right now. Oscar is a farmer to his very roots and wants to help the trust between our heroes and the Atlas forces regrow. He believes they can all come together again. But James is stuck in a guarded state of mind and thinks Oscar came to fight for his cause. That couldn’t be farther from the truth. Oscar admits that he feels scared, and whenever he does he holds the cane and it helps calm him down, likely due to its significance to those who came before him. But he puts the cane away as a sign that he will face his fear without that aid, that he will be brave. James just thinks that’s another dig at him, that Oscar is calling him scared. Oscar reminds him that EVERYONE is scared right now, for good reason, and that fear is not something to be ashamed of, that it just gives us a chance to show the content of our character by how we handle the fear. James just snaps at him, says that it’s easy for Oscar to spout such platitudes when he doesn’t have to make life changing decisions for the sake of a Kingdom. As he starts circling around the poor farmboi and backing him towards a dead end ledge, he insists that no matter what labels they put on him he was RIGHT. He was right about what would happen if he opened his heart and trusted others, that all his worst fears came true because he went against his gut and did what the kids told him he should. Except he is absolutely NOT right. Things were going far more smoothly for him once he started trusting Robyn and told her and the council about the trouble he had to deal with, and despite the obviously concerning setback of Watts shutting down Mantle’s heat they handled that situation with very little trouble. It was only once Cinder popped in to sew doubt and paranoia back into his mind that it all spiraled out of control, and that was entirely his fault. If Cinder hadn’t stepped in, they might have found the Seer in Watts’ bag and killed it immediately instead of it interrupting a tense conversation. Robyn now knowing what the Tower is for would mean construction could resume without shipments getting stolen, and perhaps they could have negotiated a way to divide up the materials so the wall could get fixed too. Just spit balling here, what could have been. But no, it all went belly up and Jimmy is only fanning the flames. Oscar tries to remind him that his current plan of abandoning Mantle will be betraying an entire city of thousands to die alone in the cold, but James is having none of it. It’s an excellent philosophical puzzle to try and work through, but the way he sees it none of that matters compared to preventing Salem’s victory. He thinks he’s the only one who can see the big picture, who is making his moves with the intention of changing the final result no matter the cost.

But that’s what’s so dangerous about that mindset. People he writes off as small minded and soft, like Robyn, the council, and even Oscar (possibly by extension even Ozpin)... they’re the good people who think first and foremost about preventing tragedy and loss in the moment, who refuse to budge on their morals of protecting the innocent and will never trade lives. It’s the same kind of difference seen in Superman vs the Elite. Team RWBY and their friends don’t believe in necessary sacrifices for the greater good, but Ironwood has become singlemindedly focused on stopping Salem, likely out of the guilt and humiliation of being so helpless against her back in Volume 3. This is a chance to reclaim his honor, and he thinks of little else. That’s how I see it anyway. Oscar calls James out, saying this mindset makes him just as dangerous as Salem herself. But I guess that was the straw that broke the camel’s back, and he insists Oscar refer to him as General. Only his friends may call him James, and it seems our good good boy has lost that status. Not that he seems to expect Oscar will have much chance to show him that due respect any time soon, because he pulls out his pistol and SHOOTS THE INNOCENT FOURTEEN YEAR OLD BOY OFF A LEDGE TO FALL TO HIS DEATH!!!! Ironwood has officially made the transition from misguided good guy to full on villain.

As if there wasn’t enough tension and bad news, we go back to Penny who is still unsure how to answer Fria’s question. What is the right choice to make, the best choice for everyone’s sake? She has no idea. But she had better decide fast, because Cinder crashes through the ice wall and screeches that the powers belong to none but her. Unfortunately for our vicious villain, her Gum Gum stretchy arm comes with a weakness to blades and gets sliced off by a suddenly appearing Winter. Cinder reacts with the appropriate amount of bloody terror and pain that you would expect of someone conscious for an amputation. Winter surveys the room and realizes Fria isn’t long for this world so time is of the essence, but doesn’t have much longer to ponder that before Cinder enters a bloodlust rage. See, apparently whatever monster makeover Salem gave her in the wake of Volume 3 included the ability to regrow her Grimm limb, though it sounds like the process is terribly painful for her and may not have even been something she was expecting to have happen. Regardless, she wants revenge and starts lashing out by summoning blade after blade to throw at Winter. The Specialist manages to block most of them and they turn to dust on impact, but it’s a brutal onslaught that she has to face without any Aura, and one cuts her left arm enough to draw blood, though since it’s burning glass it also seems to cauterize the wound immediately. Let me take another moment to praise the talents of Jessica Nigri. This scene in particular required her to do a lot of screaming and screeching as Cinder, and that cannot be easy on the throat. So the fact that she pulls off those deep dark emotions so well is worthy of respect and sympathy in equal measure. Okay, back to the action. Fria lies on the floor and closes her eyes, passing away peacefully all things considered. Penny holds her hand in her final moments, and a blue glow passes from elder to younger woman. We go back to Oscar for a moment or two, but I’ll tackle his last couple scenes in bulk in just a minute. Winter is getting tossed around, and her hair has been pulled free of its bun to add to her disheveled look... and our overwhelming thirst for her. Battle battered or not, she’s looking like a real snack with her hair down. Cinder stalks toward her to continue the beating and possibly deal the killing blow, but is distracted by a snowflake flying past her face. Well that’s interesting... And then it becomes many snowflakes, a veritable flurry kicking up. She turns around with some legit fear and concern on her face, and her worries are confirmed. Penny’s eyes glow and flare up with a fierce green fire as she stands resolute as the new Winter Maiden. She seems ready to use her new powers to fight Cinder despite only just getting them, and clearly has some manner of control already if she was able to start generating snow already. And this does settle another matter of fan speculation, if she qualifies as a candidate for the powers. Welp, now we know. According to the guidelines set by Oz’s bestowing of the original powers and how he explains their transfer process back in Volume 3, you just have to be a young woman below a certain age (or else they probably would have given Amber’s power to Glynda) and have a soul to receive the power from the last user’s. I guess Penny’s blue fairy has come and said she is a real girl in all the ways that count. Her soul is unique and separate from her dad’s, even though he used his old man aura to create her. And she does in fact have a soul and is considered a legit person even though she’s got nuts and bolts instead of squishy guts. Cinder is of course outraged that this “toy” was bestowed the powers she came all this way to steal, and gets ready to fight her, but is distracted by Weiss entering the upper observation room and yelling her sister’s name in concern and fear. Cinder probably has a confused and annoyed moment of “I thought I killed you back at Haven...” She gets ready to kill the little Schnee brat for piling on further interruptions to her plan, but that too goes out the window when she notices Ruby had accompanied her partner down to find their Atlesian allies, and likewise Ruby notices her. Ruby does not hesitate for a second and without needing any time to get into the right head-space blasts off a wave of Silver Eyed energy to essentially Solar Flare the whole room.

Now we can go back to Oscar and his dramatic descent. The shot from Ironwood took out his Aura, and he seems like he’s resigned himself to death once he hits the bottom of this pit. As he closes his eyes, they glow for a moment and he hears a voice that’s been absent the entire Volume. Ozpin. He only says Oscar’s name, or at least that’s all we hear, but the boi seems to regain his determination and tries to reach his cane again. He holds it with both hands, extends it, then holds down the lever on the side. Guess a single squeeze was all it took to pop out the cane part under normal circumstances... But now the gears inside the hilt start really turning, and glowing, and it becomes a flashlight as well as a cane. Well, that’s all that seems to happen at first. With a spin and a jab, Oscar thrusts the tip of the cane downward just as he reaches the bottom of the pit. There’s a momentary flash of green lightning around him then... fade to black.

And now we come to what seems to be the epilogue/wrap up of the episode and the Volume itself. And it begins how the show began, with a voice over narration. Not from Salem though, it’s our first motivational speech from Ozpin in a year. He talks about how fear is the only feeling in this world that is universal across every living thing, yet for how common it is we constantly underestimate how powerful it can be. We experience the fear of making close connections and growing to care for others, because that can lead to a loss which we also fear. We fear failure a great deal, I know I definitely do. And those fears only get stronger the more people depend on us to help them with the decisions we make. But Ozpin reminds us that fear itself is not something to worry about or even, dare I say it, fear. The real concern is how we act when we are afraid, who we become. Can we be proud of that version of ourselves, forgive them for what they do under duress? Will you understand why they felt the need to do the things they did? Will you even recognize them as the same person you normally strive to be, or will you look in the mirror and see the enemy you should have feared from the very start? We all find the answer to that eventually.

Now on to what actually happens in these last few scenes, the fitting content to go with Ozpin’s speech. Oscar is falling through the sky towards the ground waaaaay down in Mantle. Guess his attack with the can was strong enough to bust a hole in the bottom of Atlas... straight into the Vault chamber... hope nobody else finds that. Back in the icy former hospital room, Ruby falls to her knees from the exhaustion of using her Silver Eyes. She and Weiss notice a freshly burned hole in the ceiling, as Cinder apparently avoided getting damaged by the SEW blast and escaped. Weiss rushes to check on Winter and see how badly she’s hurt, but all her sister has for her is an accusation. She still doesn’t know what Team RWBY did to get a warrant for their arrests, but she knows it was the catalyst for all of this. Meanwhile Ruby looks to see how Penny is doing, and the ginger girl’s eyes lose their fire as she meets her friend’s gaze, only to gain regret and fear as she turns back around to kneel by Fria’s side. The Winter Maiden is dead, long live the Winter Maiden. But Penny can only mourn the loss of a good person’s life, she takes no satisfaction in being the one to carry on her legacy. Winter actually does reassure her a bit, saying that some part of Fria will always live on in Penny now. We cut down to the blood stained tundra as Atlas police arrive to arrest Qrow and Robyn, who is only now regaining consciousness. Qrow puts up no fight, and it looks like neither will Robyn. Cinder is seen flying above Atlas Academy and screams with rage and hatred, even getting a bit of a dragon vibe in it by having fire erupt from her mouth. I was glad she was the one shown when Ozpin talked about fear of failure, because she did indeed fail. We don’t know how, but JNR make it to the airship pad and onto the getaway ship where the Bees and elderly people are waiting. They take off and of course question the meeting lacking the presence of Oscar and the Lamp, and JNR can only look sad in response. From one sad ship to another, we see Qrow and Robyn aboard a prison airship in cuffs, and Qrow is holding Clover’s bloodstained lucky badge. Despite the last interaction the three shared being a fight, Robyn shows sympathy to his mourning and puts a hand on his shoulders. Can’t wait to see if the two of them try to break out of jail next Volume~ As they fly up to the city in the sky backdropped by the eastern sunrise, a large dark cloud approaches from the west accented by flashes of red lightning. Back to Oscar, he clips the cane to his back and closes his eyes for a few seconds to concentrate and steel his composure. Back to the ice room again, Winter says the girls should surrender to Ironwood. Weiss is heartbroken, you can hear it in her voice, but she has to disobey her sister’s wishes, they simply cannot comply with his cruel plans. Winter seemed to expect that answer, and instead urges them to flee, but Weiss doesn’t want to do that either because it would mean leaving Winter behind while she’s so badly injured. Her big sister insists it simply isn’t like that, this is her giving them a head start before she calls for reinforcements to hunt them down. Weiss is disheartened, but reaffirms the lesson Winter had shared with her earlier in the Volume, they booth have to make decisions for the sake of their own futures that might take them down separating paths. The getaway ship arrives and hovers just outside the first hole Cinder had made in the wall, and Yang greets the group. She’s very relieved to see everyone is okay, but soon finds a lot more happened than she expected. Ruby affirms that they need to head out while they still can, and Weiss gives her sister one more glance before departing. Ruby and Penny also share a look, and Penny decides she will be leaving too. Guess she’s decided once and for all she won’t be helping Ironwood. Winter seems concerned by this development, but realizes she has no right to object or stop her after everything the two of them had talked about since the dinner party. On the airship everyone seems very dour and grim, and Penny looks at her own hand as if asking herself if she had the right to make the choices she did when she is just an Atlas robot. But Ruby and Weiss both lean on her shoulders to reassure her and make sure she knows they are happy she came with them and they believe she did the right thing. That seems to calm her down, and Pietro looks happy to see she has such good friends. On an Atlas rooftop, Cinder is quite satisfied to see Neo deliver the Lamp to her, and takes it without a single word or gratitude. Neo doesn’t like that, I guess even Roman would praise her for a job evilly done. She’s probably starting to realize Cinder is just using her to further her own plans. Speaking of unfortunate realizations, Ironwood gets a message from Winter that simply says “It’s gone”. We’re unsure if she means the Lamp or the Winter Maiden powers. Considering what her job was meant to be, it’s likely the latter. Ironwood takes that news poorly and screams with rage. I too screamed with rage, because we next see that Arthur Watts is actually still alive and just in a jail cell, nursing a black eye and smiling ominously at the mysterious black clouds we saw rolling in. 

Oscar seems to have been playing some Halo 3 recently, because he throws up a bubble shield to cushion his badass superhero landing on the ground. Not just any ground though, he seems to be within the crater where Atlas once was before Ozpin lifted it into the sky. The same crater that has apparently become the main Dust mines for the Kingdom. Perhaps next Volume will give us a closer look at just how awful these mines really are. But let’s address what Oscar has actually done here. He had no Aura after getting shot by Ironwood, so that was not his Semblance. That energy bubble he used to shield himself when busting through the bottom of the pit and cushioning his hitting the ground, that had to be Magic. He’s unlocking more of Oz’s old powers, the union of souls is progressing. But he’s still in control, Oscar is still there. He just has more of Ozpin’s memories and abilities now and used them to save himself, as if the old souls are merging into his existing one as opposed to his new soul fading away into the collective. Maybe the process will be different this time around? Regardless, Ozpin’s voice is back in his head and ready to apologize for everything he put him through. But all Oscar wants to hear right now is what their next step will be to save Atlas. As we cut back up to RWBY and friends flying away from the city, we see that it will indeed need saving very very soon. Transmissions are coming in over the radio of multiple incoming hostiles, to a degree that seems impossible to believe. Our view shifts to the dark storm itself, and a shape begins to emerge from the black and red. A GIANT. FLYING. GRIMM. WHALE! With hundreds of Nevermore, Manticores, and Sphinxes flying around it looking as big as flies by comparison. I have personally dubbed this species the Mobius, and this particular specimen has earned the nickname of Monstro. I can’t imagine there ever being more than one of this thing though, so Monstro will be the only one. He has wings, but what seems to keep him in the air is several large chunks of Gravity Dust embedded in his belly and on top of his head. We pan up over his massive glowing forehead to see the Queen herself riding into battle. Salem has come to Atlas, and she’s wearing a badass (and kind of sexy) new dress to celebrate the occasion. There are grey arm bands on the longer sleeves that look like they’re made of bones, complete with jagged spikes, and a new broach to be the centerpiece between exposed shoulders and a noticeably bigger boob window. The unique aesthetic is aided by more red lines down the curves of her figure. The words “step on me” easily come to my mind, but that may just say something about me in particular. Regardless, she smirks at the camera and it is clear she is here to fuck some shit up.

We’ll have to wait 6 months to see how our heroes deal with that though. Cannot wait. Oh, and it must be noted that the new song for the credits “Fear” is very good, and we can see that another song on the soundtrack called “Until the End” was actually written by Casey Lee Williams as opposed to her dad. Good for her!! If only I could remember which song it was...

[night-filled-mountain]

Maybe we’ll learn more about this later (I’m still unclear on how they all ended up forming a coterie in the first place), but what I’m imagining right now is that Victor and Nelli’s initial relationships with Jasper were very different from their initial relationships with Annabelle.

When they first met Annabelle, they saw her as hopelessly naïve, reckless in her idealism, and liable to get herself and others killed. Victor was harsh and angry, and Nelli was cruel and patronizing, because they felt that they had to toughen her up, prepare her for the darkness and violence of the world she’d just been born into. Jasper, however, was a whole other story.

Jasper, I think, started out as a sweet kid very much like Annabelle--but probably without her steely core of badass fight-the-system courage. And then he was sired (probably violently), and he fed (definitely against his will, quite possibly on someone he loved), and he vowed that he would never personally hurt a person again. Which sounds like a noble vow, but, this being Vampire: The Masquerade, it actually led to a whole fucked-up worldview wherein the Kindred aren’t people, and Nosferatu like him are especially Not People, and even people are expendable as long as you don’t do it yourself, because that’s the ethical pretzel he had to twist himself into in order to survive on the bottom rung of Kindred society while still following a vow like that. He took orders, he took jobs for pay, he did the dirtiest work his baron had to offer, living at the mouth of a Lovecraftian hellscape, scrounging around in the sewers, with no friends, no family, and one (1) ethical conviction that he told himself he was still upholding even though it was essentially meaningless semantics in light of what he was constantly being told to do, and being told he was (monster, monster, monster).

So when Victor and Nelli met him, he was just this...feral thing. This cynical, sarcastic, wary thing, all stealth and shadows and blood and death, who follows the rules and submits to authority and hates it all in silence, who’s half-forgotten that he used to go to college and walk in the sun and maybe fall in love. Who believes in something (“I don’t hurt people”) but can’t really remember why.

And because he must have been Annabelle’s polar opposite at that point, I imagine that Victor and Nelli’s approaches must have been wildly different than they were for her. Victor, I think, probably went into full-on dad mode. He probably treated Jasper like a feral kid, or even a wild animal, at first: gentle, coaxing, a little wary, but with an underlying determination that wouldn’t take no for an answer. He couldn’t undo everything that was done to Jasper--he didn’t have that in him, although Annabelle might (“She’s still got...heart. Which...I don’t really remember what that was like.”), but he could tug at the knots of that twisted psyche and start untying them, one by one. Just by treating him like a person, by softly, matter-of-factly countering the bullshit that Baron Abrams and Kindred society had been feeding him: You’re not a monster, you’re my new friend/colleague/surrogate son. See, we can work well together, we can hang out and chat, we don’t have to go digging skeletons out of your closet. I respect your privacy. Don’t ask, don’t tell. You can leave the dirty work behind when you’re with us. You can teeter on the EDGE of life, even if you can never step back into it. You’re good enough for that, man. You’re good enough for me. You’re FINE.

(...I apologize profusely to Literally Everyone for this anecdote, but my husband has often told the story of how he went to see Twilight with some college friends, and the point when he started laughing uncontrollably in the middle of the theater was the infamous “I’m a monster!” / “You’re beautiful!” exchange between Edward and Bella. But that...is literally Victor’s tactic. He’s still regularly telling Jasper “You’re beautiful” when we first meet the coterie.)

And Nelli? She wouldn’t have been warm, not with Jasper or anyone (she rarely finds that in her, even now), but she wouldn’t have judged. She’s been there herself, with an abusive asshole sire who tells her she’s a monster for doing what she had to do to survive. I bet she saw herself in Jasper clear as day, and just accepted him, quietly and stoically, and I bet that meant the world to him too.

And between her gruff solidarity and Victor’s loving acceptance, Jasper sort of...split in half, personality-wise. Jekyll-and-Hyded, if you will. Into the kind-but-cynical vampire Annabelle befriends, who has friends and a role to play that actually takes him above ground now and then, who’s capable of joking and laughing and empathy and guilt...and that other thing that he used to be. That he hid away for Victor and Nelli’s sake, and buried even deeper for Annabelle’s. The thing in the house at the mouth of the labyrinth. The thing in the sewers. The thing that answers to Baron Abrams, that feeds (and feeds on) his own kind, and that knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he is not a person but a Thing, and all his friends are Things, and none of them can ever be undamned.

[herald-divine-hell]

Hope Has Fled

Faintly, Alexandra could see the flames of the sun lit the mountains in a rim of burning amber. Snow puffed and hurled, swirling with the heavy gusts of wind pummeling eastward. The darkening sky burnt with a deep violet in the horizon, and the stars glittered like dainty silvery buttons laced upon a black fabric. The shadows crawled over the snow clad mountain sides, groping, twisting fingers that coward away from the spraying light. 

Snow crushed behind her, muffled but Alexandra had grown accustomed to overextending the hearing capabilities. The hairs at the back of her neck prickled to life, a shiver crawling achingly up her spine like the sliding tip of a dagger poised to lunge forward and pierce her flesh. For a few moments, the thought seemed all to reasonable. The Inquisition did not need her entirely for hope. There was unspoken strength and admiration that came from the bravery of the Commander; the relative stoicism of the Seeker; the composure of the Nightingale. It had been Alexandra that had brought the monster upon Haven—the reason why Haven was now buried in mounds of ash and blood and snow. Alexandra closed her eyes, her cheeks wobbling and warming. Her throat felt logged and stuffed. The magic that pulsed within her boiled and froze all at once, her stomach heaving with crackling lightning. She could feel it push and ache, threatening to engulf herself and spread like horrid wings. She inhaled and exhaled. Maker, what have I done?

It reminded her all too well of Redcliffe - the crimson upon the walls; harden, crystallized flames and shadows that heaved and conquered all the light in the world - all but the frozen flames. Haven had been different and yet so similar. The fire had not been frozen, it was lively and twisting and hot. The shadows did not conquer - it spread and swallowed the world, leaving nothing but the crimson blood that stood out like hints of cruel sunlight. There was no mercy, no life, in either worlds she traveled. A hard, cold wave washed over her. There was no mercy left in the world. How could she lead these people if there was no light to guide her? Even the flames felt so harsh and bitter.

“It doesn’t get easier.” Leliana’s voice pierced through the air like the breeze of summer, but edged and sharp as a dagger. The warmth that trailed down her cheeks were tendrils of slickness. The Nightingale’s voice brought a smile to Alexandra’s lips. She did not know why, but it did. And she chuckled, raising her knuckles to her cheeks to wipe away the tears. 

Alexandra nudged her head a little the side, watching as the Spymaster walked upon the snow like some steeled goddess, crowned with a veil of flame that highlighted the elegant curve of her jaw and brought out the blue light in her eyes. “Does the Spymaster know all of my secrets?” asked Alexandra, smile growing and tilting her head a little to the right. She did not know what exactly brought a calming reassurance that shrouded around her like a cloak, but Leliana somehow rose and tied it about her shoulders; as if she did not commit the most horrendous crime in the newly-formed Inquisition’s history. 

A smile twitched at the corner of her lips, and it was a pretty sight, even if it was a mere hint of warmth and humanity beneath the chainmail. She has a beautiful smile. “I would not be the Spymaster if I did not know everyone’s secrets, Your Worship.” She smelt of incense and rosewater, sweet but not too sweet to overwhelm; remarkable in its remarkableness. “But, for all the times I couldn’t read you, yours are often a little treat.” Her smile flickered into a smirk that rose something in Alexandra’s naval. “There are many things I still do not know about you, I’d admit. And you keep surprising me more and more with every action you take.” She turned to her than gazed away to the glimmering orange-golden light of the camp that held what remained of Haven. “You surprise everyone, truth be told.” 

“I do enjoy leaving a mark,” she admitted, allowing herself to grin despite the horrible coldness in her chest. It edged away for a brief moment to something warm and pleasant. But the coldness returned as Alexandra gazed upon the dwindled camp, heart echoing and tearing. “But this is not a mark I attended. It is a wound, an open scar that is bleeding as we speak.”

Leliana sighed, her shoulders slumping before straightening again. Once more, Alexandra caught sight of something beneath the rustling hood. A woman beneath the armor. “It is a wound that can be mended, Alexandra. It might indeed take a long while for it to, but I know it can.”

A shiver crawled up Alexandra’s spine when she heard the Spymaster utter her name in that sweet-tilted accent, so pleasant and lovely that Alexandra’s heart raced at its sound. “You have hope?”

She heard Leliana chuckled, and when she turned to face the Orlesian, she was smiling—truly smiling. Her eyes scrunched up, dimples denting her cheeks. “In the darkest hours, hope is the only spark that one must have. Yes, Alexandra, I do have hope, though it is small and nestling, it is still there. I would not have believed you dead when I already saw the feats you have preformed. Was that not hope, to think you were still alive after what he did?” Her voice quivered for the slightest of moments. “You burden yourself far too much. What if you had died? What would we do? I know your thoughts, not because of some secret, but because I had those same thoughts once before. To wonder if my life was truly worth living after all the death and sorrow I had seen and stirred.” She sighed, blissfully, but with unhidden bitterness. “I still have those thoughts.” Her eyes fell upon her like brewing thunderstorms. “I have hope in you, Alexandra, even if you do not have it within yourself to believe. No one could have survived what you have survived: the Temple of Sacred Ashes, Redcliffe, Haven…how can not have hope when one looks upon you? You compassion; your brilliance; You. I did doubt, doubted everything once. But light always came for me when all was shadow. Thought darkness closes…”

“I am shielded by flame.” Alexandra closed her eyes. She pushed away the thoughts of the woman who had died to let Dorian and her live. She was a flame that pushed away the darkness. Did this Leliana see her in such a way? As a dim flame that could grow to tear down the shadows to reveal the meadows? The thought caused her heart to rapidly dance and her blood to pulse. She took the Spymaster’s gloved hand into her own without even a thought passing through her mind, as if she was glided by mere instinct. She bowed and pressed a kiss to the back of it. “I will strive to live up to that hope in which you bare for me.”

Leliana did not utter a word, Alexandra’s eyes resting upon her. The rose-tint to the Orlesian’s cheeks flourished like rose petals upon the snow, spreading up her forehead and down her neck, where it laid hidden by her armor. Such a shame, Alexandra thought with a smirk. There was something undeniably charming when rising such a reaction from women like Leliana; though, she enjoyed it far more with the Spymaster.

Then, Leliana smiled, hints of pearly white teeth glimmering like the moonlight-gleaming snow. “That would not be necessary, Alexandra.” She slowly untangled her hand from Alexandra’s, and she already missed the warmth that came from it. Leliana tucked her arms behind her back, slightly bowing, but still smiling up at her. Her heart threatened to burst from her chest. “Do come and join me for a meal. If you are good, I will till you some secrets over our beloved Chief Diplomat.” She turned and sauntered away, and Alexandra’s eyes rested upon her hips without her reservations. She never said I couldn’t look.

She followed, and the flames from the camp outlined Leliana’s swaying form, scattering away the darkness.

[the-sinnamon-roll-writes]

I just want to say I love your works, it's probably one of my favorite whump bingos out there! Can I request revenge by proxy with Pidge?

Oh gosh, I’m so glad you’re enjoying them! So I got about ¾ of the way through before I realized I had just assumed you wanted Pidge to be the “by proxy” part rather than the “revenge” part, so if you wanted it the other way around, just let me know! I will also say, there are two parts towards the middle that could read as implied threats of noncon. They’re meant to be threats of violence, and not that though. My 12th work for @badthingshappenbingo

It was hard to place the scratchy voice. It was clear it knew who he was. It did sound incredibly familiar. And not a good familiar. The sound of it made him feel uneasy, and Keith desperately wished he wasn’t wearing a blindfold so he could see what was going on. Actually, he would’ve liked to know why he was wearing a blindfold to begin with. He had a feeling that that question should take priority. 

Of course, he wasn’t even sure if he would be able to see anything, even if he wasn’t wearing it. Shit, he wasn’t even sure if he was actually awake. Maybe this was all just some hugely unsettling dream. Then the blindfold was yanked off. He blinked blearily, still trying to decide if he was actually conscious. Then a cold liquid that Keith really hoped was just water splashed down onto him and a foot kicked his left thigh. Keith bolted upright- or at least, he tried to. It was hard to move quickly when he was being held down. It only took a second for him to realize that his hands were tied. “It has been awhile, hasn’t it?”Right, someone was talking to him. His eyes finally focused on the tall figure in front of him. ‘Oh fuck. That’s Zethrid. How did I end up with Zethrid?’ He tried thinking back- he could remember when he realized it was her, but after that, things were just slowly coming back in useless chunks that he was having a hard time putting together. Fuck- he had no way of knowing where he was, or how long he’d even been missing from the rest of the team. He was then uncomfortably aware of a stinging in his upper chest. When he looked down, he saw an angry red mark just below his collarbone. Had he been tased? Could tasers really make people pass out? Of course, if it had been a taser, it was probably a space-grade hell taser that was more than capable of knocking someone out. Nothing surprised him anymore. “I had originally planned to simply kill you. But then I was told that one of my crew was able to obtain something that might interest you.” She had continued talking without stopping to see if he was paying attention. Keith didn’t like the way she was looking down at him. She was too happy about something. And if she was happy, then he was in trouble. Even with his basic knowledge of her as a person, he assumed that the ‘something’ they found was some unspeakable torture machine that would make him plead for death or something. “Bring it here.”He steeled himself. This wouldn’t be pretty. A minute later a sentry came in with a small, squirming person slung over his shoulders. Keith was horrified to see a red-faced Pidge being dumped onto the floor in front of Zethrid. Just out of his reach. It took her a moment to realize just who it was that she had just been handed over too. Her face paled and the fierceness that had been there vanished when she recognized the half-Galra. She tried to scramble back away from her, only to bump right into a wall. “Do you remember what you took from me?” Zethrid asked Keith, her voice chillingly calm. She hadn’t even acknowledged that Pidge had arrived. “Do you know what you did to my life?”“I don’t know what you think I did, but she didn’t do anything!”Zethrid slammed her foot down less than an inch away from Pidge’s shin. “You know what you did! I want to hear you say it!”“Tell me what you want me to say, and I’ll say it,” Keith said desperately, “just leave her out of this!”“You took Ezor from me. She was the only thing in my life that mattered, and you took her from me!”“Okay, I took her from you, and ruined your life. There, you got what you wanted. Now just let her go!”“I don’t think so. What providence that you were the other one we were able to catch. It’s too bad she isn’t here,” Zethrid finally sneered down at Pidge. “Ezor was anxious to get her claws into you. The small ones usually scream the sweetest. I wonder whether he still has a soft spot for you. A tiny little creature like yourself- I’m sure it would absolutely kill him to know that you’re the one taking the hits for him. What do you think?”His blood went cold. Zethrid was going to hurt Pidge to get at him. No- he couldn’t let that happen. He couldn’t let Pidge get hurt on his behalf. Without sparing a second glance at the thugs standing at his side, Keith lunged forward at the two of them. Big mistake. The butt of a gun came down on his right shoulder with a harsh thunk and the promise of a nasty bruise the next day. It left his arm dangling uselessly at his side, and he groaned loudly. “Keith-” Pidge said with just the slightest hint of a tremor in her voice. “I’m okay- get your fucking hands off her!” Keith tried to jerk forward again when Zethrid seized the hair at the back of Pidge’s head and jerked her up. A weak protest came from Pidge’s mouth, and the fact that she wasn’t putting up a fight was testament to just how scared she really was. She looked absolutely terrified, and Keith could only imagine she was recalling the last time they’d crossed paths with Zethrid. She had narrowly avoided torture then, and now she was right back at her mercy. He’d forgotten how much she’d been affected by Ezor and Zethrid’s threats. He had never asked her about it, but he had a feeling that she had lost some sleep over it. His mind raced as he tried to think of a plan. “Get your hands off of her!”‘Hell of a plan there, Keith.’Of course Zethrid ignored him and ran a hand down along Pidge’s face, drawing a shudder from her. “You’re the smart one, right?” she asked Pidge. “Any guesses as to what we’re going to do with you? Well?”Pidge stayed silent, although Keith couldn’t tell whether it was from stubbornness or fear. Either way, it was enough to irritate Zethrid into shaking Pidge roughly by the head before looking back at Keith. “What about you? What do you think we have in store for this one?”“Come on, she’s not the one you want to hurt,” Keith tried helplessly. “Please, just let her go.”“We’re going to hurt it. Than when we’re done hurting it, we’re going to kill it. You took someone I loved from me, now I’m going to take something you love from you,” she said simply, looking down at Keith with a twisted smile. Pidge wasn’t a person to her, he realized. It didn’t matter to Zethrid at all that she was hurting the younger girl. It was like she was taking away his toy to break in front of him. This was bad. “Please don’t hurt her! Please,” Keith begged. He didn’t think he could live with himself if Pidge got hurt because of him. There was nothing he could say that would make any difference. He needed to do something“You’re lucky,” Zethrid purred, jerking Pidge up to look her in the eyes, “that Ezor isn’t here. She’s the one who liked to get creative. I prefer a more direct approach.”With that, Zethrid rammed her knee into Pidge’s stomach. Pidge immediately tried to double over, but Zethrid didn’t release her grip on Pidge’s head, and she just wound up getting a large chunk of hair torn from her scalp. “Shit,” Pidge managed to cough out before being dropped to the ground. She didn’t get much of a break before Zethrid’s boot collided with the side of her head and knocked her down flat. For a moment, Keith was concerned that she wouldn’t get up. But then she blinked and lifted her head an inch off the ground before struggling to get back up. She had just made it to a sitting position when another kick to her ribs knocked the air from her lungs, and she fell back again, gasping. Judging by the way Pidge was clutching her chest, he was ready to bet one or two of those ribs had just been broken.  Then Zethrid was grabbing her by the collar and pulled her up to her feet again, where she swayed dangerously. A fist flew into Pidge’s face once, then twice, then a third time. When Zethrid stopped, Pidge’s nose was a bloody mess and her eyes were unfocused and looked to be crossing.  She was literally being used as a punching bag, and it was making Keith sick. The pure ferocity in Zethrid’s attack was stunning. There was no way Pidge would survive if it continued. “Stop it! You’ll kill her!” He was still struggling to reach them, even though he had no idea what to do once he got there. It wasn’t like he had much room to maneuver. But that was his thing, right? Figuring things out in the moment? How often did he actually have a plan when he did things? He could count on one hand the amount of times he had actually made a plan himself. “That’s the idea.” Zethrid was loving this. Standing just out of his reach with Pidge in her grasp, watching him struggle and beg. She laughed at the feeble cry Pidge let out when she was slammed against the wall and had the air knocked out of her. Without giving her the chance to catch her breath, Zethrid landed another series of cruel blows to Pidge’s torso. From her neck to her lower stomach, it seemed like Zethrid was determined to bruise or break every part of Pidge’s body. “How does it feel, knowing that you’re the one putting it through this?” Zethrid asked Keith out of the blue, looking down on him. She hadn’t released Pidge, leaving her dangling against the wall by her neck. Occasionally, Pidge would kick out weakly, like she just remembered she was supposed to be struggling. Then she was being swung around to dangle right in front of Keith. “You may as well throw a few punches yourself.”Keith could only grind his teeth. If he said anything right now, he would just be encouraging her to hurt Pidge even more. She had been right of course, he did have a soft spot for Pidge, and it was absolutely unbearable to watch her getting beaten to a pulp like this. For him. When Zethrid turned her attention back to Pidge, she realized that her eyes were starting to droop. Zethrid frowned with mock concern, and she backhanded Pidge across the cheek hard enough to snap her face to the side. “We can’t have you passing out now.”She jerked her head at one of her cronies who hurried away. As she waited for him to return, Zethrid stroked Pidge’s cheek again, and brushed some loose hairs out of her face. Her hand angled Pidge’s face up to look at her more clearly. “You’re a pretty little thing, aren’t you? Even when you’re all bloody.”Keith shuddered. He almost couldn’t wait for the one who left to come back with whatever it was he went to get, if only to stop whatever the fuck Zethrid was doing right now. It was disturbing, and he didn’t like any direction that this might go in. His stomach dropped when he heard what she said next. “I’m sure some of my crew would have a fun time with you.”“No!” Keith shouted, going back to fighting as hard as he could against his bindings when he worked out what Zethrid was doing. He wasn’t entirely sure if Zethrid meant they would enjoy beating Pidge up, or if she meant something far worse, but he didn’t like the leers on the faces of every disgusting fucking pervert in here. Either way, there was no way in hell he could let them get at her. “I’ll rip your fucking throats out! Let her go!”Zethrid grinned wickedly down at him, letting him know without words that she would do no such thing. Pidge was wiggling again, but she was trembling too hard to make any progress. Blood, tears, and snot were dripping down her face. To his concern, she actually looked like she wasn’t sure what was happening. Had Zethrid really managed to hit her that hard? What a dumb question, of course she had. He had to get to her and get her the hell away from here somehow, and he had to do it before the creeps bearing down on her could lay a finger on her. But he couldn’t reach her before three of Zethrid’s men were there. One of them grabbed her hair and yanked her head back, dragging a sharp nail down her exposed neck to her collarbone, leaving a faint red trail. Another grabbed her arms and jerked them harshly behind her back, and another seized her jaw and squeezed the tender skin there. She tried to say something, but no sound got out before the one behind her smacked a hand down over her mouth. Pidge was sobbing around the hand that was covering her mouth, and Keith wasn’t far behind her when the thug that Zethrid had sent away returned, empty handed. “Captain, I’m sorry I didn’t bring back any smelling salts, but I was told that we’ve arrived, and that I was to tell you immediately.”Keith could’ve kissed him. A distraction like that was just what they needed, and it got everyone but Zethrid’s hands off of her. “Ah. Thank you Yondor.” Zethrid looked down at the small girl she was holding, then at Keith. With an exaggerated sigh, she tossed Pidge down at him like she was throwing away a piece of trash. He did his best to catch her, but with his hands tied, there wasn’t much he could do to keep her head from banging into his, or to keep her from tumbling down to the floor with a grunt. “We’ll be back later to continue.”With that threatening promise, Zethrid turned around and walked out, followed closely by her henchmen. “Pidge?” He tried to sound relaxed, but he knew he was failing miserably. Keith looked down at her, and put a hand on her cheek as gently as he could. It took a moment for her to come to her senses, but when she finally did, she threw herself at him. She was still shivering violently, and whimpered as she grabbed at him. “Keith- Keith don’t let them t-touch me. Please d-don’t let them.”He brought his arms down around her as best he could.  He had never seen her so scared before. Not that he could blame her. He’d probably be in the same boat had those threats been directed at himself. “I won’t Pidge. I swear I won’t. I’m gonna get us both out of here. I need you to do something though. Can you get my hands free? I need to have my hands if we’re going to escape.” He spoke slowly and as calmly as he could manage. She was close enough now for him to see that her pupils were unevenly dilated, and her nose was definitely broken. Pidge nodded and set to work getting his hands free. It took longer than it might have normally. She kept blinking and frowning down at her hands- her shaking hands, that made the simple task much harder. And he was right there with her, feeling rather shaken himself. And overwhelmingly guilty. Like Zethrid said, he might as well have been throwing the punches himself. And here she was, looking to him for protection. As soon as he was free, he wrapped his arms around her to give her a real hug, as tight as he could. One hand had gone up and cupped the back of her head, and the other one was rubbing small circles on her back. Normally he wasn’t huge on hugging, but he felt he owed her this one small comfort. She returned it with fervor. This was sure to stick with her for a while. It was all his fault. Zethrid had done this because of him. Suddenly he was having a hard time not crying. Shit. He couldn’t, not now. Push it down, save it for later. He needed to be strong for her, to get her as far away from here as physically possible. Okay. First things first. He needed to find out where they had arrived at. Wherever they were, there was sure to be some sort of communications center. Maybe if they got there, they could contact the Atlas and get an evac. That seemed like their best bet for now. But first he needed to know- “Pidge, can you walk?”She paused a second before answering, closing her eyes and taking inventory of her body. She was hurting- really hurting- but she was sure she could power through. Power through… through walking, right, she could do that. So she nodded. “I think I can.”He would’ve preferred a ‘yes’ to ‘I think I can’ but that’s what he got. And it was better than a ‘no’. “Okay, I think I have a plan.”Pidge nodded again once he recounted his idea for her. She didn’t offer up any other ideas or suggestions, and Keith wasn’t sure if he should take that as a good thing or a bad thing. He couldn’t even tell how much she’d understood. But again, he would just have to take it. Now to figure out just how exactly to get out. Keith studied the bars of the cell closely. They weren’t anything fancy. He was able to summon his bayard and slice through them easy enough. Apparently Zethrid hadn’t realized he was able to do that. He walked through the hole he’d made first, looking up and down the hallway to make sure it was safe for Pidge. When he was satisfied that they were alone, Keith looked back and gestured for her to follow him. And she did, cautiously, creeping out like a mouse on watch for a hungry cat. Which, he supposed, was basically what she was right now. A proud Lion, reduced to a scared little mouse. It was unnerving to see her like this. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen her like this- he wasn’t even sure if there had been a last time. She was fierce. She didn’t get scared easily. Apparently Zethrid was in the small category that did frighten her. All the more reason to get her out of here. Confidence. He was sure she would feel more at ease if he just convinced her that he was confident about their escape. If she sensed any weakness, it was no doubt going to be a blow to her tenuous feelings of security with him. So he kept his head up and shoulders squared as they hurried through the hallways. And he was starting to actually build up some real confidence for himself. It was so empowering. Then an intercom sounded, and Pidge just about jumped out of her skin. “The prisoners have escaped. Recapturing them is now of the highest priority. First one to reach them gets the first turn at the girl.” Zethrid’s rough voice was followed by a loud alarm and flashing white lights. The terror was back as Pidge grabbed at Keith’s arm. Damn it. Right back to square one. “Keith, they know- they’re gonna catch us! And I’ll be- she’ll let them- Zethrid will let her crew…”She quieted when he took her once-again trembling hands in his. He was a little panicked himself, but he couldn’t let her know that. “They aren’t going to catch us. I’ll kill anyone who even comes close to you. Look, we have a head start, and they have no way of knowing where we’re going.”Neither did they, really, but that was another thing she didn’t need to hear. She probably knew anyways. She wasn’t an idiot. But he really needed her mind to be as clear as possible right now, so he was saying whatever he could to keep her from freaking out too badly. She was hurt, and scared, and probably having to fight to focus on where she was right now. Now that he thought about it, Keith wasn’t even sure if she actually knew what was happening. It was possible that her brain was just throwing her in this position, in pain and totally lost, surrounded by people who wanted to hurt her. No wonder she was close to tears again. And that was exactly where Pidge’s head was at. Everything was loud, and the alarm’s flashing lights only added to the pounding in her head. She could vaguely remember threats- words that made her shudder and brought her dangerously close to vomiting. Threats that were far too close to being a reality. Every few steps she took seemed to erase, then bring back bits of memory, leaving her confused and anxious. Why couldn’t it all just stop for a minute? If she could just have a minute to try and clear her head a little, she was sure she would be fine. “No Pidge, I’m sorry but we need to keep going. I need to get you out of here. Once we get out, then we can find some place to take a breather.”Huh. Apparently she’d been talking. She felt a warm weight in her hand then, comforting and so wonderfully solid in the spinning world around her. Pidge looked down to find Keith holding her hand and pulling her along. Oddly enough, it helped. It didn’t make her hurt any less, or make the blaring alarms stop, but in some way, it made it a bit easier to remember what they were doing. That hand wasn’t going to leave her behind.She was still running slower than she was normally capable of, and Keith was struggling not to groan and just drag her into a sprint. All things considered though, she was holding up about as well as he could’ve expected. If he had been right about her having some broken ribs earlier, then she was probably running about as fast as she was could. Patience. He needed to have patience. But while he would’ve liked nothing more than to let her sit and recuperate, they simply didn’t have the time. There was no way he could allow her to fall back into Zethrid’s claws. When he heard shouting approaching them, Keith tugged on Pidge’s hand again to urge her to speed her back up. Luckily his urgency was wearing off on her, and she went along with him, fighting the thick fog that threatened to overwhelm her. One foot in front of the other. Left, right, left, right. She just… needed to focus on that. Unfortunately, focus wasn’t exactly in her vocabulary right now, and it was unbelievably hard to do. She could hardly remember why they were running right now. She would still get the occasional flash of a cruel face, or remember snippets of threats the had been directed at her that would encourage her to keep going. But those were growing few and far between. Then Keith felt the small hand he was holding jerk to a stop and drop with a yelp. Keith spun around to see Pidge on the ground with her ankle twisted the wrong direction. God fucking damn it. Of course. Of course this would happen. Why the hell not? Nothing else was going right, might as well give the poor girl a sprained ankle. The cherry on top. ‘… My crew would have a fun time with you.’Before he could even think to help her, Pidge was pulling herself up on the wall and starting to stumble forward, spurred on by those words playing in her head. She was a damn trooper. As quickly as he could, Keith rushed over to stand on the side with her injured ankle. He had to crouch down to wrap her arm over his shoulders. A part of him was actually starting to hope that someone would show up. With every passing second, the desire to beat the ever-loving shit out of someone was growing. They were moving so much slower now, it would take a miracle for them to not get caught. Didn’t they deserve a miracle right now? Pidge certainly did. He still had his armor on. Shouldn’t the Atlas have been able to track them down that way? Maybe they were. Maybe they were already on their way. That was a plausible idea. Shiro wouldn’t just let them go if he could find them. An unpleasant realization hit him when he thought about what had happened to the otter Paladins. Were they okay? If the trap had been primarily for him, did that mean they were left behind? ‘Please let that have been what happened.’Keith stilled when he heard footsteps approaching from ahead, and Pidge followed suit. Damn. He’d wanted a fight, but not while Pidge would be caught in the crosshairs. He pulled her off to the side against the wall and placed himself in front of her. They would get to her over his dead body. Naturally he hoped it wouldn’t come to that- Pidge would have an extremely hard time getting out of here on her own in her condition. He brandished his bayard, preparing himself for a fight. Whoever it was had to be getting close to the corner in front of them. Keith glanced back at Pidge one last time before starting to charge down the hall and around the corner. Best to get the jump on them, rather than wait for them to come to him. When he turned to face them, he was surprised to see Shiro and Curtis standing there. They looked just as surprised as he did. “Shiro- oh thank god, you guys are here! Why didn’t you radio us?”“We didn’t know if you had your helmets. And we didn’t want to risk giving ourselves away if they had been taken,” Shiro answered. He had a smile on his face, relieved to see his adoptive brother out and able to fight. “Have you been able to find-““Keith?” A timid voice called out from where Keith had emerged from, startling them all. Kicking himself mentally for forgetting about her, Keith turned around and sprinted back to Pidge without offering an explanation to Shiro or Curtis. She hadn’t moved from her place on the wall, and watched with wide eyes as he cleared the distance towards her. “Pidge! It’s okay, it was just Shiro,” Keith promised her, once again taking her hand to guide her down towards them. She leaned heavily on him, and Keith had a feeling her ankle wasn’t doing any better. And if he had to guess by the expression on her face, neither was the rest of her body. “They found us. They’re gonna get us out of here.”She went along with him, albeit a little suspiciously. She relaxed a little when she saw that it was indeed Shiro, but she didn’t release her grip on Keith. Shiro frowned, then raised an eyebrow at Keith. All he received in reply was a barely perceptible head shake. A silent ‘I’ll tell you later.’Curtis didn’t miss the interaction, but he didn’t say anything either. Instead he led by example and started walking back in the direction they had come from. He and Shiro had their hands free, and had taken up the job of defending Keith and Pidge without question. With them leading, it was only a short walk to the exit of the absolute fortress that Zethrid flew. “Alright, I’m going to go let the crew know we need to leave right away,” Shiro said, catching Keith’s eye and nodding. He sprinted ahead, leaving Curtis there to keep an eye on  Keith and Pidge as they trudged along as quickly as they could. Which wasn’t very quick. But Keith was feeling much better than he had been just a few minutes earlier. They were still technically in enemy territory, but now with the crew of the Atlas, they outnumbered the enemy by far. It took them longer that it would’ve taken to reach the Atlas, had Pidge not been injured. But as it was, they still made it, and they both survived. Keith could only imagine how they must’ve looked. Limping along, supporting a battered Pidge who was so exhausted she could hardly form individual words. The first person running up to them was Matt. He didn’t even acknowledge Keith. He hurried to stand in front of Pidge, reaching down to cup her cheeks and look at her eyes. “Katie?”“Mm. Matt?” Pidge blinked as she struggled to focus on him. “There she is.” Matt looked incredibly relieved, as he bent his knees to take her off of Keith’s hands. “What happened?”“That’s… a long story.” Just then, exhaustion hit him like a bus, leaving him swaying where he stood. “Then it can wait.” Where had Shiro come from? Hadn’t he gone to address the Atlas crew? Didn’t matter. Keith was just grateful that he wasn’t going to have to answer any questions any time soon. He felt like there were some questions he wanted to ask, but for the life of him, he couldn’t think of them. He’d just spent the last who-knows how long running for his life- and Pidge’s. Wait- where had Pidge gone? Keith’s heart stopped when he realized he couldn’t see her anymore. “Where- where’d she go? Shiro, where’s Pidge?”Shiro looked alarmed when Keith grabbed his arm desperately. “Keith, it’s okay, Matt just took her to the infirmary. Calm down. You’re both safe now. It’s alright.”Keith stared at him blankly while he processed what Shiro had said. It took him longer than it should’ve. When he did, Keith just shook his head slowly and ran a hand through his hair. “No it’s not. It was my fault she got hurt. She went through- if you had heard the way Zethrid was talking about her, what they were going to do- Shiro, she hurt Pidge to get to me. Because she knew I care about her. And Pidge was so scared-“ his heart ached when he thought of Pidge’s face as they ran. She hadn’t deserved any of that. He felt Shiro’s hand on his shoulders, and forced himself to meet his eyes. “You can’t do this to yourself. You can stand around and blame yourself all day. But you weren’t the one throwing the punches. You were trying to stop them. Alright? And blaming yourself- that’s exactly what Zethrid wants you to do. She wants you to feel bad, even when you’re far away from her. And Pidge is going to be fine”“Well it worked. I feel terrible. Pidge is probably gonna live with this hanging over her head for the rest of her life.”“And so are you, if you don’t let yourself move past it. I’m not saying you have to right away. But you need to let yourself heal.” Shiro knew Keith well enough to know that he was going to be internalizing this and letting it fester in his mind. The sooner he could plant the seeds of self-forgiveness, the less likely he was to hurt himself like that. “Come on, you need to rest. Okay? You look like shit.”It wasn’t often the Shiro would cuss in front of other people. If he was the one saying that, then Keith knew he had to be looking really rough. So he went with Shiro to the infirmary himself, peeling off his armor as they walked. When they arrived, Keith was guided towards a bed near the end of the room. He tried to catch a glimpse of Pidge, but the only Holt he saw was Matt talking to one of the medical staff members. He didn’t look too upset, so Keith took that to mean Pidge was doing okay. It was that thought that allowed him to fall asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. •••Pidge screamed and writhed as she felt even more hands grabbing at her. Some were pulling out hair, others were hitting, scratching, prodding, tearing at her clothes. Hands, just endless hands hurting her body. A seemingly unending sea of hands. She no longer had any control over herself. Her every movement was dictated by the hands. But despite that, she didn’t stop screaming. She was going to fight them in any way she could. Even when one of them clamped down over her mouth, she still whimpered and wiggled as best she could. It was no good though. Her face and chest were sore, and growing uncomfortably stiff. She wasn’t going to get out of this. Not by herself. Her body was rigid now, and she couldn’t move at all.  Her eyes were sliding shut. Despite every brain cell she had screaming at her to keep struggling, it was just too hard. More and more hands were dragging her down, somewhere she didn’t want to go. She wanted to be back up where she had been before the hands. That had been a simple place. She had been able to just sit and breathe. It wasn’t a struggle, or a constant violation of personal space. God she just wanted to get away from them. Her eyes cracked open blearily for one last look up. Any minute now, one of those hands would cover her eyes, and prevent her from seeing at all. Honey eyes widened when they took in another hand, right in front of her. It wasn’t grabbing, it wasn’t suffocating, it wasn’t trying to drag her down. This hand was reaching down from up above her, like it was reaching down to pull her up. It didn’t seem possible that this one hand would be able to do anything, but she struggled for it like it was a lifesaver. The hand was warm and strong when she finally managed to grasp it. She refused to let go, even at first when it felt like nothing was happening. But she realized that it really was pulling her up. It was slow going- the other hands didn’t want to let her go. But the higher she got, the fewer hands there were to drag her down. And the ones that were left had no chance of getting at her with the hand that was saving her. It was stronger than the other feeble hands trying to seize her once again. She was rising, ascending through hell by way of what Pidge could only think of as an angel’s hand. As she neared the top, it felt like she was able to see a fuzzy face start to come into focus. It got clearer and clearer with each passing moment as she neared the light it was bathed in. Who’s face was it? She was having difficulty placing it. Dark hair, piercing eyes, a worried frown. She knew this face. She knew who it was. She just… couldn’t remember… the name.Light flooded her eyes as realization hit. It was-“Keith!” Pidge woke up with a gasp, sitting upright. “W-what…?”She looked around frantically, but stopped quickly to groan when the movement caused flashes of pain. The short glance she had gotten of the white room told her that she was back on the Atlas, and if she had to guess by how her body felt, she was in the medical area.Taking a heaving breath, Pidge laid back down and wrapped her arms around herself. After the dream she’d just had, she didn’t particularly want to go back to sleep. But she couldn’t move, and there wasn’t much she could do when she was laying still in a bed but drift off once again, and hope for the best. •••“Keith. Hey, Keith, wake up. Pidge is awake and she was asking about you.” Lance was shaking his shoulder as he spoke. Sometimes Keith could wake up after hearing a bug skittering across the floor. Other times it took a bullhorn and some physical contact. Looked like this was one of the other times. But this was the first time the Pidge had been up and talking for a long enough time to hold a conversation, and she wanted Keith. Lance considered picking him up and carrying him to Pidge, but decided against it. He wasn’t interested in getting out of a chokehold. So Lance kept shaking Keith and talking to him loudly until one gray eye peeled open to squint up at him. “There you go. Come on, it’s time to get up.”With a groan, Keith sat up and stretched before he stood. “How long was I asleep?”“You were coming up on thirteen hours, if you can believe that.” He couldn’t believe it. Keith had never slept that long in his entire life, and once he was in space, he rarely got more than six. Was he supposed to feel refreshed? Because he didn’t. He felt just as tired as he had when he’d entered the Atlas three days ago. Now that he thought about it, Keith was surprised that it had taken two and a half days for him to crash that hard. It had been a busy two and a half days though. “Did you say Pidge wanted to see me?”“Yup. She wanted to talk to you about something.” Lance was watching Keith carefully.“About what?”“Beats me. She didn’t really want to talk to any of us- not even her family.”That was enough to prompt Keith to pull on a baggy shirt and walk with Lance to where Pidge was resting.  When she saw Keith, she actually smiled. She waved him over, so he sat beside her on her temporary bed.“So how are you feeling?” Keith asked. “Been better. Been… way better. Still a bit sore. Shiro mentioned you were a bit pissed off with yourself.”Damn it, Shiro. He was just totally incapable of keeping anything to himself. He was almost as bad as Hunk. That was the last time he’d share anything with him, Keith decided. “Well, I guess I’ve been better too.” Keith tried to offer up a smile, but he had a feeling he was failing. “Pidge… You shouldn’t have… you shouldn’t have gone through that. Zethrid- and I didn’t even do-“He cut off, grinding his teeth, but Pidge could guess what he was going to say. Sharing feelings wasn’t something either of them were particularly good at, which was usually why they were able to get along. They didn’t need to talk too much to understand one another. But this time was different. There was something Keith wanted- needed to say to her, and she wasn’t sure how to make it any easier for him. It felt like she should have been reassuring him, but she knew that Keith would take that as her patronizing him, and he wouldn’t like that. So she chose to just stay silent, and let him take the time he needed to get there. “They captured her,” he finally said. “Zethrid. She’s in a holding cell. I thought Lance was going to try and kill her. And I’m pretty sure Shiro would’ve let him, after he heard what she- what happened.”“That’s good. I’m glad she’s not running around anymore. Wish they’d put her somewhere else though.”Keith nodded understandingly, then sighed. “Pidge, I’m so sorry. It was my fault this all happened. Zethrid used you to get at me. And I couldn’t stop her. I couldn’t protect you. And now, I look at you and all I can see is just… how scared you were. And even though it was my fault, you still… I don’t know, you still wanted me to stay with you.”Pidge had watched him carefully as the words spilled out. She was mostly expressionless, up until the last sentence, where she frowned at him. “Of course I did. I was scared. I don’t actually remember… very much. What I do remember- most of it I wish I didn’t. But I remember you. It would’ve been easier for you to just leave me and come back with help. You didn’t though. You brought me with you, and you did protect me. It was a- bad situation all around. But it wasn’t your fault. And she would’ve killed you if she hadn’t gotten to me.”“Yeah, but she would’ve killed you if it hadn’t been for that guy distracting her.”“Well she didn’t. Neither of us died. I’m counting this as a win.”Keith looked at her a moment before smiling and shaking his head ruefully. “I don’t think any of us won this time.”Pidge sighed and looked down at her hands. “Yeah. You’re right.”“You know, I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you say that to me.”“First time I’ve said that, and I’m agreeing with you calling us losers.” They both laughed weakly, but Pidge stopped quickly and reached up to tenderly touch her face. “Ugh. It hurts my face to smile, and it hurts my chest to laugh.”Her complaining didn’t make Keith feel any better, but he tried not to let it bother him too much. He reached out and gently held up her chin to get a good look at her. Her face was a mess of black and blue bruises, and Keith knew that her chest and stomach weren’t looking much better. Once again, he sighed. No matter what she said, he was still going to feel at least a little guilty whenever he saw her. Because no matter how she felt, he knew that he was at least partly responsible. The fact of the matter was, if not for him, she wouldn’t have been targeted. Like she knew what he was thinking, Pidge reached up and took his hand. “We’re both here, Keith. That’s what matters. We made it.”

[tryaddump]

TheKojiIsHere

1- KoR/TFO weapon Elias Alderaan isn't enough to wake him up When the Empire crumbles he's sorta just abandoned, maybe a shuffled around asset among surviving moffs and generals and the like before ending up in one of the groups' hands Feral but still trainable 2- Fully dark Elias At some point comes out of his stupor on his own, but is no less angry and vicious Ends up turning on his masters and takes over a cell or the empire for himself when the top two fall. Now hes the one cracking the whip, and he's even crueler to his subordinates as those who made him And he is always angry, like the kind of angry that shoots past flailing tantrums into eeerie seeming stillness, but you can't mistake it for calm when he casually snaps a neck or cuts someone in half for any minor inconvenience or failure

hackett. chinhands

TheKojiIsHere https://youtu.be/hL5zv4mN1xA Batman-Under the Red Hood Black Mask Montage

From beginning to 2:06

Except the punch would have been a saber thrust through the face

darth porgeius ooookay that’s some unhinged darkness right there

hackett. kor elias would be a fucked version of his tryad dynamic with ben. the kor were brothers / dark side teachers for kylo. it was a frat cult fully dark elias is giving vader a run for it

TheKojiIsHere But also imagine like Full dark Elias scoops Ben before snoke can

hackett. ..... The Resistance is now The Attempt because fucking hell

TheKojiIsHere Couple immediate differences: Ben never becomes a KoR bc Elias wouldn't even send him therr He also doesn't become a Jedi Killer bc even dark Elias has certain boundaries snoke does not, and no more Jedi need to die pointlessly Ben, and I cannot stress this enough is so much more of a powerhouse/threat holy shit Bc he's been kinda raised by Elias, taught proper forms, and how to utilize his raw power more effectively He's a better dueliest, more disciplined, and more knowledgeable Also Elias isn't borderline torturing the kid I wouldn't say he's kind But he's a very different kind of cruel

hackett. Duuuude, now im picturing this kylo concept art https://images.app.goo.gl/2BE5WHechxB78f7L8

darth porgeius super spook

hackett. Im curious to explore the differences because the kor are such a huge influence. Kylo ren's face is based on their style. That mask is so tied to his identity.

TheKojiIsHere Elias also wouldn't have tolerated such adoration of Vader Fuck I imagined him finding the helmet in Ben's quarters And making Ben watch as he crushed it with The Force Brought it in on itself until it was just a small metal sphere

hackett. ...... I think i just felt ben die inside

TheKojiIsHere Elias: You do not celebrate his works. He cast aside himself for the sake of an old fool with delusions of grandeur, and stole the selves of his brothers. He is not worth your worship, and you have already surpassed him in so many ways. Do not let the the short sightedness of the past blind and rob you of the future's promise, Ben.

hackett. ......i

TheKojiIsHere

I'm sending this here bc I don't wanna interrupt what you're typing in tryad chat BUT PALPATINE NEVER GETS INTO HIS HEAD ELIAS HAS MADE SURE NOBODY EVER GETS INTO HIS MIND AGAIN AND MAKES HIM SOMETHING HE ISNT SO HE MAKES SURE BEN CAN DO THE SAME Dark Elias doesn't get Ben by twisting his mind into servitude He makes Ben a better offer than anyone else is

hackett. In other words, his crimes are truly his own

TheKojiIsHere Yeeeeeup

hackett. There's no headworm that has convinced of his path Whats elias like as a master in this au

TheKojiIsHere Harsh but fair. He beats the shit out of Ben regularly, but never pointlessly. He's ruthless because those Ben will face are so, but there is always a lesson to be learned Example: Ben learned mental defense bc Elias would day take time each day forcing his way into Ben's mind whole instructing how to stop him He kept doing it until Ben got it Until his mental defenses were like walls of beskar Dueling, they used shock batons so it wouldn't be lethal but it would hurt Every slip in his form would come with pain But Elias always made sure he knew that with the pain came knowledge, with knowledge, strength I got to stress this allies is not insane just angry Which means he is capable of moments that are not the black mask video I showed you To be honest and this au with Ben is probably as soft as this Elias gets And he definitely gives been praise when it's due. It's hard fault but when Ben gets a form right, or makes progress, he makes sure Ben know that it is not unnoticed Above all Else, he may be harsh but he will never be Vader He will never push been to a breaking point. He will never Rob Ben know who he is. He will only test him and have high standards for Passing

hackett. Ben would develop so differently. Less reckless, still calculative but more discerning before he strikes and when he strikes he's already plotted out his next moves

TheKojiIsHere Seriously, such a difference this'd make Hell, the galaxy would be wildly different There'd be a third power at play Though Elias isn't much interested in huge expansion or conquest. He basically takes a world with the force he has and refuses to let it go. This ofc makes him an enemy of the New Republic So his group (idk the name yet) is essentially dealing with defense more than offense, but people are sent out to destabilize TNR on a major level And when TFO pops up, they're competition Plus, Elias will sense Palpatines hand in things So where TNR is met with cold, apathetic disruption TFO is targeted with extreme prejudice OH MAN IMAGINE THAT'S HOW REY FITS IN! SHES SCOOPED BY TFO She's  the Ren But yes Elias would have been a harsh but fair teacher/father. He also, as an interesting contrast to smoke, doesnt leave all the work to underlings Ben would see Elias fighting alongside him And his Vaapad variant works even better There's a lot more internal darkness to tap into and start the loop OH MAN I JUST THOUGHT OF A DUO MOVE THEY COULD HAVE USE EACH OTHER Rather than rely on the potentially waxing and waning emotions of another

hackett. Dark side circuit

TheKojiIsHere They link up an essentially become both generator and amplifier for each other And since both sides are aware of the transfer and letting it flow freely It's way more potent They'd be fucking unstoppable and terrifying sweet christmas TFO: sends a fleet with star destroyers and fighters aplenty towards Elias' planet Elias and Ben: link up and destroy them from the surface while the ships are still in orbit

hackett. That's messed, i dig it. They basically sound like an event horizon of power, once they link they just devour enemies with the force

TheKojiIsHere ^^^^

hackett. Like kylo ren in that resistance clip i sent is far as fuck away from his two underlings And he uses the force to make them aim at each other So thats him on his own Imagine with elias linked

TheKojiIsHere They could control the entire crew, on multiple ships Okay, so question Bc I feel like there is room for debate on this and I wonder where you stand Do you think each person like Has a set level of power in The Force that they are capable of from birth They may not be able to utilize all of it right away But there is a definitive, insurmountable cap Or do you think it's more of a soft cap that can be expanded with time and practice? Bc dif people def start off with varying levels of potency Re: the Skywalkers all being natural powerhouses But do you think that's it, or people can improve if they deign to try?

hackett. So i think its a little bit like that line from ratatouille. Anyone can use the force. Powerful force users can come from anywhere, be anyone. Even if its genetic for ben solo, doesnt mean thats how it happens for everyone. Like disney changed the canon that everyone is sensitive to the force but not everyone is force sensitive. It probably manifests in different ways. I think everyone can improve, heighten their awareness and control, but everyone has a cap. Not because theyre weak or pathetic or meagor, their strength is just elsewhere like all talents and abilities Which is why elias in any verse being able to compete with ren makes sense without it feeling like a "god mode"

TheKojiIsHere Another terrifying idea for dark verse They find the gauntlet Figure out how it's made then make their own With Empire assets Elias could have beaten TFO to Illum by decades

hackett. conduit dark siders with a pair of those gauntlets [8:14 PM]

TheKojiIsHere They turn the whole thing into a conduit over time The space weapon is them OH SHIT WHAT IF ILLUM IS THE PLANET ELIAS TOOK OVER Spent years turning it into a base/civilization

hackett. I WAS THINKING THAT like imagine just that planet becomes amp and battery pack

TheKojiIsHere And battle station/civilization And you know what? The people who live there live live well

hackett. i imagine, i don't see elias being the type to set himself to be hated by those under his indirect control but live under his influence

TheKojiIsHere Oh wow I must have pocket called you my b But yea he wouldn't be needlessly cruel

hackett. also not a fool, you don't make the people who surround you and know your home turf your enemy

TheKojiIsHere ^^^^^

hackett. leave them alone, ingratiate them at least a little bit. make their lives comfortable and protect them and they won't want a regime change

TheKojiIsHere His direct subordinates, however, he definitely rules through fear. He doesn't tolerate failure, and it's gratifying to be the punisher rather than the punished He offsets this by giving due praise to those who perform satisfactorily, and even more so exemplary

So there's a big dichotomy in treatment Ben, ofc, is judged most harshly but also performs most exceptionally In Elias' eyes

hackett. it's gonna interesting cause with snoke he gave benlo a direction and told him to find his own way there it's not the same with a dark elias, there's more expectations. more guidance. more discipline.

[azurexalacrity]

  ✪ DOWNFALL PT. 2 - MIZZY’S SAVAGE AU ✪

( The backstory for Sonic )

Disclaimer: I obviously don’t own this AU & I am writing this backstory based on the description of Mizzy’s AU. This is my own way of interpreting how Sonic’s life would be if he was inserted into said verse.

 Parents. The figures that protect their offspring no matter what. The ones who’ll keep their family in line from suffering. The ones who dare to do anything to save their child by any means necessary. Jules & Bernadette are the ones fulfilling that goal, to protect their one & only son from this horrific creature & buying time for Sonic to escape...

...But will it be enough?

  The barrage of bullets came from Jules’ gun, as said hedgehog was screaming off in rage to kill the beasts. Shards of glass went flying across the wooden floor, as well as bullet shells. Crazed eyes were seen from the shattered windows, to which clawed hands were attempting to break into the household.

 Bernadette tightened the grip on her bat, her sight keen at the array of animals that are coming into the home. Her heart wrenched & beat roughly against her chest, feeling conflicted on what she was witnessing in front of her.

 Her husband goes on a killing spree, the citizens of Zootopia turning into savage beasts, & her son is left with horror & panic, so much so that she was sure he wasn’t running yet, as ironic as she found that to be. She needed him to move, to go, to get to safety... But the poor lad wouldn’t move a muscle.

This was the one time in her life that she wouldn’t want him to be so still.

Gripping onto her son’s shoulders, she gently shook him to keep him from standing there, petrified. She patted his scarred cheek, trying what she can to rouse him from his frozen state. Her voice spoke to him gently, in a way that she was sure brought tears to Sonic’s eyes.

 “We’ll be fine, honey... There’s another vehicle we could get to in order to escape. You go on ahead, alright?” His breaths were becoming much faster & faster, & it was only keeping him away from leaving. Bernadette can’t let this happen. “Sweetie...” She cupped his cheeks, feeling him tremble in her hold. “Look at me. We’ll be fine, you go on ahead. Please, go..." She gently pecked his forehead. “...I love you.”

Sonic listened to her, listened to her loud & clear, but he wasn’t sure why he was immobile like this, but then again, he was sure. He couldn’t just leave them! He couldn’t. They were his family. & he couldn’t leave them behind like this... He just couldn’t...

...But really, did he have a choice? He didn’t & that’s what hurt.

Bernadette swung her bat viciously, hammering straight into the creatures’ skulls, hoping to render them to concussed or to kill them as well. Damn, it hurt to harm her fellow neighbors like this. In such a city that you could do anything... But you have to do what you can to survive. Even if it means slaughtering everyone you know in the city.

 Jules continued firing, spotting pockets upon pockets of blood gushing from the monsters ahead. Them & their cruel, dead, hungry eyes & razor-sharp teeth & claws. No way in Hell were they going to get an inch close to his son. His stomach twisted into knots, knowing that this will possibly be the last time he’ll ever get to see his child ever again… Just because of this god-forsaken virus. If being departed meant that his dear old child will be safe, then that’s what truly matters to him.

“I love you, son.”

With tears falling down his cheeks, Sonic only muttered out “I love you” to his beloved parents before rushing downstairs to the garage. Clutching the keys to his chest, to protect it, he comes across his truck, thankfully intact & not scratched up by the hellish monsters from outside.

Quickened breaths left him as he jammed the keys in, trying to start up the vehicle as fast as he possibly can. Scriiitch. Scriiitch. His ears perked at the noise, spotting how there was something attempting to break the garage door. He had to hurry. Hurry. Hurry!

BANG.

“No no... No no no!” Sonic fussed, gripping harshly on the wheel & looking at the back with wild eyes. All he can see is a bat. The baseball bat he used when he was trying to apply for the sport. Before it was used for such & today, it was his trusty weapon in hand. Not as effective as his father’s gun but useful enough.

Keeping the weapon close to him, he slammed his sneaker on the accelerator once the door opens, running over the beasts that dared to cross his path. He didn’t give it much thought, only in complete disbelief that his parents were possibly dead or have escaped or turned into those creatures but he was left with that suspense, as much as it makes him feel sick to his stomach.

Where... Where should he go? Where can he go? What was he supposed to do without his family? Sure, he was eighteen, a full-fledged adult, but how can he think of what to do in an apocalyptic setting? ...He wasn’t sure.

What he was sure of doing was oscillating his bat around to smash some heads. Each one that came to his truck was met with a bat & wheels to crush them. Each swing came with a shrill, a shrill of wrath, rage, & even vengeance. Sonic didn’t care if his tears blinded him from what he saw what was in front of him because all he saw was carnage. Just complete & utter carnage.

His mind swarmed with multiple questions, questions on just about anything in that situation at hand.

Where do I go? What should I do? What about mom? Dad? Will they be okay? Where can be sheltered? How did everything go from this? Is everyone else… Infected? Am I… The only one safe from it all? I c-can’t be… Right?

...I can’t be…

Survival came at such a harsh price. Time has passed at every single day the young adult began driving, running, attacking, doing whatever it takes to stay alive nor to get infected. His bat was his life savior & so was his vehicle. They weren’t ones to keep his spirit alive, however. Each day he grew angrier, sadder, uncertain of things, & having himself be on the edge for who knows how long. He had to scavenge food like a dastardly vulture to prevent himself from becoming a skeleton. He had to constantly be alert, & constantly attack anything that stands in his way.

...But for how long can he keep going like this? How long?

After spending who knows how much time surviving, Sonic finally knew what happened to his parents. He saw blood on the street, seeing two figures sprawled among it & eaten by the very things that tarnished their family. His vengeance & sense of survival gone stronger that day & that he vowed to either escape the city or just survive.

Though, something in the sky became another life savior to him, believe it or not. From the sky came an advanced spaceship, capable of traveling throughout the cosmos, & now… Crashing right into the city of Zootopia. Emerald eyes widening in disbelief, Sonic reached for his bat & went out to investigate.

Who knew that this ship would contain an extraterrestrial being, an alien, to help him in his horrific, life-changing, apocalyptic journey? Who knew that they would eventually become someone special in his life?

This person brought back the hope that he got rid of a long time ago.

[tinydooms]

Worth a Thousand Words

  So, I didn’t write anything for the June Challenge yesterday, because I couldn’t figure out how to make this scene fit into one of the prompts. It’s one of those Maurice-love-the-Beast-as-a-son AUs, but is mainly an excuse for me to have a go at analyzing Adam’s ruined portrait. Comments and reblogs are much appreciated. 

So, without further ado:

Worth a Thousand Words: 

Maurice wanders the castle, growing more confident with each passing day. The staff have assured him that as long as he stays out of the West Wing-the master's private quarters-he is free to go anywhere he likes in his new home. Home. Maurice shakes his head whenever he thinks of the word, falling so easily from the lips of the enchanted servants. Whatever this castle is, it is not a home. It is dark and cold and lonely, its grand hallways filled with a despair that is not hard to understand. He has no idea what happened here, but he senses that the Beast is as much a prisoner here as he is.

If only he hadn't sent Belle away. If only he had never lost his way in the woods. If only they had never come to Villeneuve. If only, if only.

Belle will be all right. Maurice knows that she is a capable young woman, and she will make her own way. He will never stop missing and worrying about her, but he knows that she is her mother's daughter and that she will survive.

He has hardly seen the Beast since the monster sent Belle away, and he cannot help but be thankful for that. The rest of the staff are good to him; they have given him a comfortable bedroom, new clothes, excellent food. The cold that set in when Maurice was in the tower is beginning to heal. He asked for drawing materials and received a wealth of fine paper and charcoal pencils, paints and canvases and chalk. Truly, there is nothing Maurice wants for here but his freedom.

He wanders the corridors now, looking at the paintings on the walls. There is excellent work here, portraits and landscapes and scenes both classical and modern. He recognizes the work of some of his Parisian compatriots, men he worked and drank with back when Paris was bright and the future rosy. There is a picture of a woman on a swing, kicking her shoe off to her lover below. Maurice studies it, remembering Fragonard's earlier works. So they have not been cursed long here, then. Ten years, at the most. Interesting. He wonders, not for the first time, who is responsible for collecting all of the extraordinary artworks that reside in this place.

There is a portrait gallery in one of the upstairs corridors, filled with pictures of the family that has ruled the castle for generations. Maurice wanders, looking at them, studying the family resemblances. These are the gentlemen of the family, here are their wives, their children, on and on, until finally the portraits run out, ending in a pair of ruined canvases. Maurice stops. What on earth has happened here? The mother has survived (and good thing, too; she was a lovely creature, with a gentle smile and eyes filled with kindness), but the father's face is mangled. It looks like someone ripped through his features, someone with claws and a fierce and burning hatred.

Maurice goes very cold.

Why would the Beast do this? Who was this man, who stares down at Maurice with a single cold eye? His face is all but obliterated, but Maurice can see the proud stance, the hands curled into fists. There is a sword on his hip and he is surrounded by dogs; a stag's head hangs on the wall behind him. A hunter, then, and a soldier. A cold man. And he was married to that lovely young lady? Maurice looks at the woman's portrait again, and feels a twist of sadness at the harshness of arranged marriages. Then he moves his attention onto the last portrait. Their child.

This portrait is slashed, too, though not with the same hatred as the father's. It is as if the Beast (for Maurice has no doubt it was he who did this) couldn't bear to look at this picture long enough to destroy it. The gashes are fairly clean; with care this picture could be salvaged. Maurice studies it with interest.

The subject is a young man, perhaps twenty-five. He favors his mother, with dark gold hair and blue eyes the color of the summer sky. He is a great beauty, or would be if it weren't for the coldness that he exudes. His gaze is icy, challenging, as though daring the viewer to find him anything but beautiful. He sits with one arm resting on the table before him, his very posture filled with hauteur. And something else, something-

“What do you think of him?”

Maurice starts, yanked from his thoughts. In his concentration, he has not noticed the Beast making his way down the gallery, though the Beast himself has taken care not to be too quiet. He stands a few feet away, watching Maurice study the damaged painting.

“Oh! Forgive me, Lumiere said I could wander-”

“Yes, it's all right,” the Beast says. He is not wearing that filthy shroud today, Maurice notes, but has washed and dressed in clean clothes. Is he more or less horrifying for dressing like a human man? Maurice is unsure.

“What do you think of him?” the Beast asks again, nodding towards the portrait. “You have studied him so long.”

Maurice looks back at the picture. Whoever the artist was, he was a genius for capturing so much emotion. It strikes Maurice suddenly that he has seen those eyes before, that he knows whose picture this is.

“I think,” he says slowly, “that I would be very worried about this young man, if he were my son.”

The words ring out into the quiet corridor, and Maurice waits for the Beast's anger. But it does not come. Instead the monster cocks his head, startled. Whatever answer he had been expecting, it wasn't this one.

“What do you mean?”

Maurice gestures at the painting. “Look. It has layered nuances, this picture. At first glance we see only this young man's beauty, and that would have pleased him. But look at it longer and you begin to see more. Come.”

The Beast comes to stand next to Maurice, gazing as the artist points. Maurice puts his fingers to the canvas, pressing the worst of the gashes across the young man's face together. “Look, here, at his face. He is handsome, arrogant. He is blessed with classical beauty, and would be stunning if he smiled. But look at the eyebrows-what do you see?”

The Beast shakes his head. Maurice taps the canvas. “He is afraid, this young man. Anxious is the better word, maybe. See how his eyebrows are set? There's a defiance there. He is waiting for an attack, this one. You can see the challenge in the way he holds his features. I would say that someone close to him was extremely critical of him, so much so that he hid his fear behind a mask of arrogance, and became exactly like that person so as to try to appease them.”

Maurice falls silent, wondering if he has said too much. The Beast does not speak, but stares at the picture. “You can tell all that from a painting?” the creature says at last.

“An artist is trained to see every nuance the body has to offer,” Maurice replies. “I would very much like to know who the artist was.”

“He was an Englishman, Joshua somebody. Came to France, did a few paintings, left again. He was immensely talented.”

So it is the Beast's own picture. Maurice looks at his erstwhile captor, suddenly pitying him. For the first time, he is not afraid of the Beast.

“What happened here?”

The Beast looks at him. He is not angry, but seems rather hesitant. “What if I told you that the young man in the portrait was afraid, of so many things? What if I told you that his mother died when he was young, and that he was never good enough for his father, who called him all sorts of names and accused him of weakness and a multitude of other sins? And he tried and tried to please the old man, to make him love him, and never succeeded. And so he became cold and cruel and, and twisted, until he was so full of fear and anger and hurt that he cared for nothing and no one but himself, because it was safer?”

“I would say it is small wonder that he became so, if he was raised without love,” Maurice says. He hesitates, then adds, “It's your picture, isn't it?”

“Yes.” The Beast looks down at his paws, ashamed. “I was cruel to an enchantress. She damned me for it. She offered me a rose in return for shelter, and I mocked her and sent her away. She said I needed to learn a lesson and that I could look forever as I was on the inside.”

Maurice whistles. “I know some villagers she ought to visit,” he remarks, and the Beast gives him a shy smile.

“It's cold here,” he says abruptly, “and you are not yet well. Let's go downstairs; Mrs. Potts can bring tea.”

Maurice is surprised, but follows the Beast out of the gallery, down the stairs to the little drawing room. If the staff are surprised to see them together, they make no sign of it, and Mrs. Potts does indeed provide them with tea, and toast and little cakes. They eat and drink quietly, and Maurice reflects on the Beast's words.

“That will be your father, then, in the other ruined portrait?” he says at last.

The Beast gives a hollow smile. “Is it that obvious?”

“You must have hated him.”

“Yes,” the Beast says. “I was scared to death of him. He always had quick fists and a raging temper.”

Maurice studies the Beast, who does not quite meet his eye. He is beginning to understand, now, and wants to learn more, but he knows too how difficult it can be to talk about the past. “Fear is a terrible thing to live with,” he says, and the Beast nods.

“Yes. I've made you fear, and I regret it. I am...not used to kindness.” He raises his eyes and looks at Maurice. “You can go. Home, I mean. Back to your daughter. For...for helping me to see.”

Maurice stares. The words hang in the air between them; there is no anger in the Beast's voice, only a quiet despair. He thinks of the young man in the painting, and how different he would look if he were happy. And he understands for the first time that he can help.

“Thank you, but I think I will stay a bit longer,” he says. “As you said, I am not quite well yet. Would you like some more tea?”

The Beast stares at him. Maurice helps himself to more tea and toast, and turns the subject to art in general. The next day, he begins to teach the Beast to draw.

*

It is strange to have someone in the castle who is neither a staff member nor a prisoner. The Beast (for he will not allow himself to have a name) is mystified by the old artist, Maurice, and cannot imagine why he has chosen to stay. But he finds that he is grateful to have the man there. Maurice's fear has vanished. In its place is a warmth and kindness that the Beast has not experienced since his mother died, many years ago now. It makes the Beast want to get up in the morning, to see him. Maurice teaches him to draw, showing him how to hold the pencils in his clumsy paws, never speaking a harsh word. Drawing soothes the Beast, allowing him to breathe regularly. And as they draw, they talk. Maurice tells the Beast of his life and travels, and how he and his daughter came to be in Villeneuve, and the places they had lived before. Paris, Versailles, Rouen, Toulouse. Adam tells him about his childhood, about his English mother, his tutors, the books he loves to read. They talk and talk, and the Beast's heart begins to thaw under Maurice's genuine interest. Shyly, the Beast opens up more and more to his former captive.

“What is your name?” Maurice asks him one afternoon, as they sit in the library together, looking through books on the history of art.

The Beast hesitates. “I haven't let myself have a name in years.”

“Yes, I noticed that the staff only calls you 'the master', like some villain in a gothic novel.” Maurice smiles. “You needn't tell me if you really don't want to, but I would very much like to know it.”

“I'm a creature. Can creatures have names?”

“Certainly. Have you never named a horse or a dog? You may be a creature, but you are also a man under a curse. You are allowed to have a name,” Maurice says.

The Beast's breath catches in his throat. He realizes all of a sudden that he loves this old man dearly. I wish he were my father. He clears his throat. “I was called Adam. I am Adam.”

Maurice smiles. “A strong name. It means 'man', you know.”

Adam's breath catches again. “It does?”

“Yes,” Maurice replies. “I'm sure there is a Hebrew grammar somewhere in this library, if you don't believe me.”

“I believe you,” Adam replies. He feels as though he has been given a gift.

Maurice's cold goes, and yet he does not leave. Weeks pass, and he continues to stay with Adam, bringing light and laughter and kindness to the castle. Maurice is the father that Adam never had and always longed for. He finds he does not resent the curse as much, now that he has a friend. There is only one thing that keeps Adam's happiness from being complete, and that is the man's daughter. Adam cannot help but feel a stab of guilt whenever he thinks of her.

“Why do you not return to your daughter?” he asks Maurice one afternoon.

They are sitting in the West Wing balcony, where Maurice has been using the turrets to teach Adam perspective. Maurice looks up from his sketching and gives Adam a small smile.

“Do you not know?” When Adam shakes his head, Maurice continues. “Belle does not need me as much as you do. I made the choice to stay weeks ago, that day when you said I could leave. I could see your fear and self-loathing, Adam, and I couldn't let it continue to consume you. Your father may have twisted you up, but you were beginning to find your way out of it. You just needed a little outside help.”

Adam stares. Maurice gives a little chuckle. “Besides, I always wanted to have a son. And now I do. Because you are my son, Adam, whatever you look like, and I love you for it.”

Adam can't speak for the tears that fill his throat. Then there is a flash of gold light, and a ringing that sounds like music in his ears, and Maurice jumps back in shock as Adam ripples and changes. For a moment all is confusion, and then Adam is standing on his own human feet, his human hands holding a pencil and sketchbook, his heart racing. He looks up at Maurice, thunderstruck. The curse is broken.

“Oh,” Adam says, and flings himself into Maurice's arms, sobbing. The older man catches him and holds him close.

“It's all right, Adam,” Maurice murmurs. “It's all right, my son. You're all right.”

Adam has never been held like this, by a father, has never felt a father's love, and yet he knows in that moment that everything will be all right.

[portiasnextadventure]

Two Fold

Doing the Work that God asks of us. 

So while I thought I was working on one goal: To Purchase A Home. The Lord had me working on another goal, self-sustainability and true disentanglement. I have struggle over the last twenty years to walk away from my mother, not just because it feels counter intuitive, but because she really is toxic to me and those who love her. I have sought all sorts of reasons, logic, malice, for her behaviors but I can’t find a non-clinical reason which is supposed to be outside my ethical scope as a therapist. By going through two psychology focused programs, I have looked deep into the abyss and have not liked the ugly truths that have stared back at me about my family and our dysfunctional relationships, the lies we tell each other and ourselves to maintain superficial relationships with each other and the putting on of airs for others. I pride myself on being articulate, outspoke but truthful, I do my best to not speak in malice for the sake of hurt but to shine the mirror. I have always been a person to say behind your back exactly what I would say to your face and expect the same of others. I don’t tolerate gossipy, backstabbing people. Yet, my family creates the sneaky, whispering undercurrent of chatter as no one wants to wake the dragon. That dragon is Joyce. I love my mother. But she has a vicious side, she can be sweet and kind, thoughtful and loving, and the next cruel, spiteful, vengeful, seeking to harm for the sake of prodding you. I have watched her yell at others and smile in glee. Hatch plans to antagonize another simply because she has the time and she can mess with their life. It’s a sick kind of pleasure.

Meditating the last two years has really helped me clear my mind, set intentions, tap into where I used to be with my anxiety, with my sense of safety, with my sense of me. It has also allowed me to separate my knee-jerk reactions from her words and really take a moment to think about why she was saying such rude, harsh, negative, vengeful things and if it was something I was doing or more a reflection of where she was in her day, life, some experience. Sure, enough and thanks to therapy, I began to realize it wasn’t ALL me, there were things I was doing like angrily responding, giving a look, raising my voice so I had to pull in my emotions. I also started to notice what was going on in her day, in her finances/business that was leading to her being angrier, frustrated, short tempered that was leading her to being more reactionary.

It really became more apparent as I struggle to move out after getting a full-time job and started saving money, she began asking for more money despite it taking from my savings account. As I moved ahead in paying down credit card debt, she became more hostile, making more financial demands, increasing time frames for me to find a place and move out. Logic was not a factor as we repeatedly discussed the process based on the initial information I received from my credit union that a $240,000 was going to require me to have at least $12,000 - $15,000 cash on hand. I knew I could do this with savings from my monthly paychecks along with the buy pack money for my Ford Fiesta. I was also concerned that she would seek to sabotage the Ford money since she is a co-borrower and her name is on the paperwork. What do you know, the first check arrived and she refused to sign! Because she needs a car. Which I am supposed to provide because the Jetta and Fiesta were not enough for her. I provided her the Jetta at $2000 to pay off the loan, I made most of the 2014-2015 repairs at almost $2,000 from my savings but that is something she fails to count, using the statement “you shouldn’t have paid him.” So as a result of her not paying the mechanic for repairs after those she cannot go to him to get a cheap 1970s VW. She also had access to the Fiesta whenever she needed it on weekends and when the Jetta died within days, Stupid Me went and purchased my Crosstrek instead of letting her figure out her own problems.

This is the problem with being parentified. It is also the problem with knowing my other siblings will do as little as possible to assist her and are perfectly willing to not ask questions about how I am doing financially or how mom is surviving on social security and her part time job. Even when they get the dower news, they shrug it off and move on with their life.  

I know I am bouncing around here, but there is a path…So in guiding my brain through meditation and seeking clarity through medication and pray I believe I have found my answers. The books I have been streaming through Audible have been helpful Darwin’s Ghost The Secret History of Evolution by Rebecca Stott and Living a Life you Love by Joyce Meyers. (links below)

It has taken long time to get to a point where I internally feel okay walking away from my mother.

I love her. She is not capable of loving me the way I need to be loved. I am done being loved the way she feels it is acceptable to show it. It is toxic, negative, spiteful, vengeful, resentful, extremely hurtful, has lead to depression, reduced self-esteem, lack of confidence, and caused me to doubt my path. TO me a mother should be your biggest supporter, your cheerleader, yes tell me the truth but not to hurt me but to make me rise. I do not feel I rise when she speaks to me. While I understand much of what she puts out toward her children is a reflection of how she feels, I don’t want to feel that way.

As I make my way to the Living the Life I want to Love I must remove some and fully embrace others. I watched a video that reinforced that Worry is the Opposite of Faith by Joyce Meyers sharing Romans 14:23 which really touched me as I struggled with my worry over leaving her on her own. My concern that the other two wouldn’t step up to assist her. Watch here: https://www.amazon.com/Living-a-Life-You-Love/dp/B079T69F7F/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1524194807&sr=1-1&keywords=living+a+life+you+love+joyce+meyer 

 Still I Rise

BY MAYA ANGELOU

You may write me down in history

With your bitter, twisted lies,

You may trod me in the very dirt

But still, like dust, I'll rise.

 Does my sassiness upset you?

Why are you beset with gloom?

’Cause I walk like I've got oil wells

Pumping in my living room.

 Just like moons and like suns,

With the certainty of tides,

Just like hopes springing high,

Still I'll rise.

 Did you want to see me broken?

Bowed head and lowered eyes?

Shoulders falling down like teardrops,

Weakened by my soulful cries?

 Does my haughtiness offend you?

Don't you take it awful hard

’Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines

Diggin’ in my own backyard.

 You may shoot me with your words,

You may cut me with your eyes,

You may kill me with your hatefulness,

But still, like air, I’ll rise.

 Does my sexiness upset you?

Does it come as a surprise

That I dance like I've got diamonds

At the meeting of my thighs?

 Out of the huts of history’s shame

I rise

Up from a past that’s rooted in pain

I rise

I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,

Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.

 Leaving behind nights of terror and fear

I rise

Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear

I rise

Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,

I am the dream and the hope of the slave.

I rise

I rise

I rise.

 Maya Angelou, "Still I Rise" from And Still I Rise: A Book of Poems.  Copyright © 1978 by Maya Angelou.  Used by permission of Random House, an imprint and division of Penguin Random House LLC. All rights reserved.

Source: The Complete Collected Poems of Maya Angelou (1994)

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/46446/still-i-rise

 https://www.amazon.com/Darwins-Ghosts-Secret-History-Evolution/dp/B008ARPISY

https://www.amazon.com/Living-a-Life-You-Love/dp/B079T69F7F/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1524194807&sr=1-1&keywords=living+a+life+you+love+joyce+meyer