It's Giving - Blog Posts
so... i started working on my series of drabbles i wanted to write for SOTR!! (so excited for it btw)
I wanted to write at least a few teensy little drabbles about the 50th hunger games, yk?
This one is about Mr. and Mrs. Everdeen and was finished in approximately 30 minutes, but I'm pretty proud of it, especially the later scenes.
If you're interested, here's the link below :) thank you so much
snippet:
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“Sing to me.”
“What?” Jack stirs. Will’s smile is teasing, lilting almost as she looks up at him from his lap, her eyes half closed. It’s a special peace she gives him, where he feels like nothing could ruin these moments. He’s never really felt that way with anyone else.
“Sing to me, Jackie.”
OR: A collection of scenes, scattered throughout Mr. and Mrs. Everdeen's life.
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https://archiveofourown.org/works/63807841
I got hot water directly from the tap in my eye it burs so much
and now I'm sat in my bathroom crying via candle light oh my
The Memory Circuit
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The air is thick with the cool breath of night. The light—sharp, blinding—flickers, then fades, swallowed by the dark. Wetness has seeped into their hair and scalp; rough cement bites into their back.
A voice.
A hand pulling them up. Another hand, setting them on their feet. Brushing debris off their sodden green garb; inquisitive tones.
“What’s your name?” they ask.
Joyeux—
Bok... Joyeux.
But their throat hurts and the words don’t spit, and they want to lie down again.
Hal Hawkins hesitates before he reaches out, pressing a hand to their shoulder.
They flinch.
“Hey, easy,” Hal murmurs. “You with me?”
A pause. The sharp scent of damp concrete. The hum of something electric, distant.
Bok blinks, sluggish. “I don’t know.”
Hal exhales sharply through his nose, rubs a hand over his jaw. “That’s not great, is it?”
¶¶¶¶
Bok and Hal live together. It is a small flat, crammed with too many books, too many wires, things with blinking lights whose purpose Hal won’t explain.
Mornings, Hal hands Bok a cup of tea, frowns when Bok wraps both hands around it and doesn't flinch. The steam curls against Bok’s face, but he only tilts his head, watches it rise, unreadable.
Bok scalds himself pouring out boiling water for pasta. Someone shouts. He glances down at his blistering skin, pressing a fingertip against the raw patch with a curious gleam in his eye.
Hal grabs his wrist, voice sharp. “Hey. What the hell?”
Bok doesn’t answer.
¶¶¶¶
Bok tries his hardest to get into religion.
“I think fear was the first thing I ever learned,” he tells Hal, flipping through pages of an old, cracked Bible. “Fear and shame. I abandoned God but kept my shackles.”
Hal hums from where he sits on the floor, working on a delicate network of luminescent capillaries. “Sounds exhausting.”
Bok considers this, then shrugs.
¶¶¶¶
He slices himself on accident. The cut isn’t deep, but the reaction is instant. Someone yelps. Bok lifts his hand, turning it this way and that, watching thick black liquid bead and streak down his wrist. Someone rushes to grab a napkin.
“Your pen exploded,” they say, pressing the paper against his palm. Bok says nothing.
¶¶¶¶
Curled together, their bodies tangled in the dim glow of the ceiling light, Bok traces slow, deliberate patterns against the nape of Hal’s neck. The warmth of his breath ghosts over skin, his voice slipping soft into the space between them.
“I am one tiny part of this vast universe,” he murmurs, “offered the chance to comprehend myself ever so briefly, and to fall in love with what I see.”
Hal stills. The hum of the city filters in through the open window—distant, electric, alive. Bok feels the shift in Hal’s breathing before he hears his voice.
“Poetic.” A pause. “Did you read that somewhere?”
Bok tilts his head, considers. “No.”
Hal says nothing. The light buzzes overhead, flickering once.
¶¶¶¶
Bok finally suspects something is wrong.
“Two years ago,” Hal says, a little softly. “Here, in Rome. You were wearing emerald green.”
Bok gazes into his mirror, loose strands spilling past his eyes, at a reflection both carnal and utterly alien.
He hadn't known how long he'd been in Rome, or how he'd gotten there.
¶¶¶¶
Their flat is raided. Bok locks Hal and himself in the bathroom. The door rattles on its hinges, a fist pounding against it. The sound of gunfire, of things splintering.
Hal is bleeding out on the tiled floor. Bok is deliberating.
“Joyeux,” Hal breathes, voice rasping.
Bok freezes. The name feels like a bullet to the skull.
¶¶¶¶
There is no time. He drops through the window, eight stories up. The pain is muted as he crashes onto the pavement below, vision swimming, systems struggling to recalibrate. He is left to peer up at a sky that sprinkles softly back down on him.
For a moment, Bok just lies there, feeling the rain sink into his clothes, feeling the static fuzz at the edges of his mind. The pavement is cold against his cheek. Somewhere above, inside the flat, Hal is dying.
Someone's shouting. Boots slamming against wet concrete. A distant siren wailing through the city streets.
A tremor runs through Bok’s fingers. His limbs feel leaden, sluggish, but his body is still trying to move, to repair itself.
He presses a hand to the ground, tries to push himself upright. A jolt of something sharp lances through his spine, but he doesn’t stop. He can’t. He was programmed to survive, after all.
Survival...
The word echoes in his head, cold and hollow. Hadn’t Hal said something, once, about survival? About living versus being alive?
Bok doesn’t remember.
All he knows is that Hal’s voice is already slipping from his memory, like ink bleeding into water. His fingers clench against the pavement.
The light overhead flickers. A streetlamp, swaying in the wind. For a split second, Bok swears he hears Hal’s voice—low, exasperated, fond.
Joyeux.
Then, the moment is gone.
Bok drags himself to his feet. His systems are stabilising. The rain is coming down harder now, washing the black streaks from his hands.
Somewhere in the city, he knows, there are answers.
He takes a step forward. Then another.
And then he starts to run.
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Just spent almost one and a half hours analyzing skylines and turnstiles and commenting on every single line and how I interpret it
Tomorrow Will Be Brighter
yes ma’am 💅✨😆
rock the boat
(Alt text under read more)
*collapses*
He's done. I decided to not do the back because it'd be more torture work and nothing about it changed between this and the previous refs so I'll use the previous references exclusively for the back patterns.
ID start: A reference sheet for the Pale King from Hollow Knight as a human done on a grey background. The main focus in the picture is the fullbody artwork of him, his lower two arms are laying down his side while the upper left arm is held behind his back and the right one is held high, gesturing. On the right is a close-up of his arm and three types of legs, open mouth, eyes, two profile headshots and his long braid with two types of chair accessories; a blue ribbon tied into a bow and the same ribbon but with a metal clip resembling his crown. He's an older man with pure white skin covered in plates that give him the appearance of a segmented bug-like body. The lower half of his body is far more bug-like with front two legs resembling that of a beetle stylised to look similar to deer hooves, with a long tail of a centipede with nine segments ending with a pincer of an earwig, the first segment's legs resembling a mix between the beetle and centipede legs. His four hands are stained with void, vein-like stains leading up his forearms, neck, and cheeks up to his eyes. His long hair is parted in the middle by his horns resembling a crown and tied into a long braid going all the way down to the second segment of his tail. He's thin, with a saggy lower stomach covered in stretch marks. The plates on his abdomen are slightly pushed apart, revealing a soft pinkish skin underneath. His crotch and chest are covered in thick white hair. He has a small scar on the lower right side of his chest between his ribs and a large burn scar on the left side of his body, going all the way from his hip to his chest. He has long elf ears, sharp claws and fangs, pink split tongue, and completely white eyes with three eyelashes at the bottom. He has moles, including two below his right eye, one below the elft corner of his mouth and ond on the left side of his neck. End ID.
ID start: The same reference drawing as the previous picture, except he's wearing a white dress with a grey rim on the bottom decorated with white floral embroidery and Hallownest insignia on the front of the rim, grey frilly collar, long puffy sleeves with grey cuffs at the end, and a wide black belt in his mid section that's decorated with small metal buttons the shapes of flowers running along the rim. He's wearing leather feet covering, with a braid pattern in the middle and Hallownest insignia on the top part of the shoe. End ID.
Start ID: The same reference drawing as the previous picture, but he's wearing a white long coat with a blue rim, blue ends of the sleeves and high collar on top of his dress. The coat is tied in the middle with a belt made of cloth, its ends neatly tied and rested in the middle, ending judt below his knees. The belt is blue with white and light blue embroidery on it; a light blue two-lined rim and floral patterns going along it, and white Hallownest insignia in the middle with the king's brand below and a couple of four pointed stars formednin a line separating the two and above them. End ID.
ID start: The same reference sheet as the previous picture, but with a thin shawl folded and wrapped around his shoulders with the ends tucked into the belt to keep it in place. It's a white shawl with frilly ends and a light blue rim, it's partially see-through. End ID.
ID start: The same reference sheet as the prdvious picture, except with a white mask covering his eyes and white gloves, with slits for his black claws. End ID.
ID start: The same reference sheet as the previous picture, but with a cucha/a woollen jacket drapped over his shoulders. It's white with blue and light blue floral embroidery and rim along the edges, collar, and sleeves of the jacket. It's tied at the top with a blue ribbon and metal clips resembling the Hallownest insignia. On either side of the metal clips is the embroidery of the insignia surrounded by two flowers on either side. End ID.
ID start: The same reference sheet as in the previous picture, but instead, he's wearing a full-face white mask and a clip-on hood, held together by a meter clip on the bottom that resembles the Hallownest seal, and buttons at the top, with the hood fabric wrapped around his horns. The hood is white with blue and light blue rim. End ID.
ID start: The same reference sheet as in the previous picture, but he has a long full-body, white, see-through veil with frilly ends drapped over him. End ID.
Hey did this happen to anyone else
should i choose a noble occupation? if i did i'd only show up late and sick and they would stare at me with hatred