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saetoru · 9 months

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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。what if you’re someone i just want around (i’m falling again)

synopsis. somewhere along the line, you started to hate suguru—that doesn’t mean you stopped loving him too

— word count. 9.5k (i am in misery)

— contents. post canon! au — fix it! (we all need a good fix it fic with suguru don't lie), this fic was started before recent manga chapters so the higher ups are still alive—just go with it ok :,), geto survives + lives free of kenjaku, exes to lovers, kind of redemption i suppose, mentions of blood, injuries, and weight loss (geto), mentions of canon character deaths (nanako, mimiko, nanami), mentions of wanting to raise children with geto and have a family, no gendered terms but reader has a personality and actual thoughts and feelings, references to the hunger games (you have movie night lol), BFF satoru (he is babie), there is a kiss y’all !! (scandalous i know :O)

— notes. i started this fic back in march and i had trouble with it and put it on pause for a while. i’m very glad i finished it in the end. i always like fix it! fics and this is self-indulgent and idk if ppl will read it bc it’s sfw but it’s ok if they don’t, i loved writing it. thank you koi for beta-reading this whole bad boy. mwah <333

the day suguru is declared a free man is actually the day he signs away his freedom for good.

you say nothing, but you know it’s the truth. satoru fights tooth and nail to plead suguru’s case—you think it’s perhaps a little too desperate for it to be in the best interest of suguru and not himself. but satoru has suffered enough, and admittedly—although you deny it—a small part of you does not want to lose suguru twice. you watch as satoru argues that suguru has already died once—surely he can’t die again? and losing control of his body and mind is paying for his crimes enough, is it not? he argues that there are no ideals left for a man like geto suguru to chase after losing himself to every principle he had left.

and then satoru wins.

you expect it, but it doesn’t make it any easier. you watch numbly as suguru is assigned under your watch. you should be happy. you love suguru—you never stopped. but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s not a free man, and now he drags your freedom with his. you’ll never break away from him, never cut through the ropes that tie your hands behind your back and bind you to him—and then you wonder for a moment, unsure if it’s selfish or selfless or some cruel in-between to think this way, if geto suguru was better off dead.

whether that’s for your sake, or his, you’re not sure.

and yes, he’s let off alive, and sure, there’s no real punishment for all he’s done, but you know deep down he’s as chained and shackled as he’s ever been. he’s not allowed to leave the house unless you or satoru are there to chaperone, and it’s never to be anywhere near non-sorcerers. he’s not to live in a place of his own until the higher up’s deem him trustworthy. he has to ask you to buy the things he wants from the grocery store. he can’t even step outside for a smoke unless you’re aware.

for a long time, he doesn’t speak much—can hardly muster a barely audible mornin’ back when you force a smile and greet him cheerily for breakfast. slowly, it turns into half-snarky conversations that get cut short by one of you leaving the room. finally, you’re civil—maybe even friendly. you’re not so sure where you stand with him as of now.

it’s not the same suguru you remember falling in love with, it’s not even close to the version of the man you fell for all those years ago. it’s hard having him here—some days you’re angry and want to throw him out, to scream at him for haunting you again just when you think you’ve moved on from the horrors of your past. some days you want to cry and cling to him, bury your face into his neck and thank him for being here again, for finding his way back to you. and some days you wish you never met him at all, that this would all be easier if it didn’t exist in the first place.

he’s not the same geto suguru you loved, but somehow, because life is as bitter as it is ruthless, you fall in love with this version just as hard no matter how much you deny it.

“i made your favorite,” you smile gently, placing a neat plate of french toast with freshly cut strawberries on the side. you even take great care to get the syrup-to-powdered sugar ratio he likes right, but he doesn’t make a move to reach for the plate. instead, suguru sits at the table stiffly, like he has to be here or there are consequences for that too. it almost makes you sad—even here, he’s not free.

“thanks,” he says quietly, “but i’m not hungry.”

“you said that last night, suguru,” you sigh, “and at lunch. and at breakfast. and at dinner the night before—”

“i’ll eat it later,” he cuts you off, playing with the ends of his hair.

it’s a lot shorter now. it’s you who finds his body battered and bruised after the smoke clears. he’s almost unrecognizable, not the same charming and perfect suguru you’re used to seeing. not the same silkened strands and smooth skin, not the same muscled and toned body, not the same chiseled jaw and soft cheeks. instead, he’s a shell of himself. his hair is matted in knots, his body is almost frail, and you notice the sunken hollows of his cheeks and dark undereyes as you lift him from the rubble a little too easily. but his body is his own—that much you can tell from the way the stitches have disappeared.

it takes shoko a long time to nurse him back to health—it takes even longer for him to open his eyes.

you waited day and night by his side, hand over his as he breathed slowly, unconscious and unsuspecting. it would be so easy, you think one night, it would be so easy to kill him and forget and move on.

you’ve already grieved him once before. you’ve felt and conquered the pain of loving geto suguru and losing him first to himself and then to death. but love is as selfish as it is selfless, and it’s under your mercy that you let him live—yet it’s under your cowardice that you keep him close.

“you have to gain back the weight you lost, suguru,” you sigh, “you’re w—”

“weak?” he finishes for you, eyeing you for a second and then grinning. it’s unsettling, a grin that makes your skin crawl and your heart stop for a moment before he’s reaching for the fork and stabbing into his toast. “is that what you wanted to say? that i’m weak?”

“suguru, you know that’s not how i meant—”

“you’re not wrong,” he hums, chewing on the first bite as he speaks, “i suppose i am pretty weak right now, huh? couldn’t even kill you in your sleep if i tried could i?”

your throat is dry as you shrug, “i suppose not,” you whisper.

“ah,” he grins again, “but that doesn’t stop you from locking your door every night, does it?”

suguru is still healing. his body is weak, and sometimes, he leans against the wall as he walks. his arm is healed—you’re not entirely sure how, but you catch him rolling the shoulder out every now and then like it’s sore and stiff. he’s lost a lot of weight—part of it is from being bedridden for as long as he was, injured and half alive, and part of it is from barely eating—save for the few bites you force into him. you never thought there’d be a day when you could say this—but the odds of you beating suguru in hand-to-hand combat are high, and the reality is an everlasting reminder that he is not who you fell for.

you swallow, letting out a shaky breath as he watches you closely, diligently cutting another bite from the french toast sitting on his plate as he stares you down like he can see past your soul. you don’t know what’s scarier—that suguru can still practically see yours, or that you’re unsure he even has one anymore.

“you tried coming in?” you ask, unsure what else to say. he merely shrugs, takes another bite, and sets his fork down.

“thought i’d check on you,” he pops a strawberry half into his mouth as he speaks.

“is that what it really was?” you raise a brow, “or was i right to lock the door?”

you’re not sure why you lock the door at night. maybe it’s because you don’t trust him, or maybe it’s because you don’t want him near you just yet. you’re not sure. you’re not sure how satoru can go back to his cheery self, how he can step through your door and boom a loud yo, suguru! before settling beside suguru on the couch with his feet on the coffee table as he rambles away. maybe it’s not real—maybe it’s satoru desperately pretending that if he tries hard enough, things can go back to how they were.

but you don’t know how he still has the energy to try, and you don’t know if you have it in you to try anymore yourself.

you and suguru stare each other down like that for a bit, the tension rising with every silent second that passes. you’re sure he doesn’t want to be here as much as you don’t want him around—but you’re also sure he’s glad it’s here with you as much as you’re glad it’s with no one else.

“you tell me,” he smirks after a bit, the hint of amusement making your fists clench. how dare he have the audacity to look at you like that in your own home? like he has the upper hand over you without trying? “what do you think i was there for?”

“i think you should stay in your room, suguru,” you say carefully, “i bought a new bed just for that room.”

“how sweet of you,” he hums. he sips the tea before him—it’s cold by now, but it’s just how he likes it, rose with one sugar. “you must have been excited to have me.”

“hardly,” you mumble bitterly—you can’t help it. you want him to feel hurt, even just a little. you want him to know that just because he’s back, it doesn’t mean you’ve waited all this time for him to be. liar, a part of you says, you’ve always waited for him, haven’t you? but suguru doesn’t seem phased—he doesn’t even blink.

“then tell me, why am i here?” suguru asks, his tone is as casual as ever.

i wish i knew, you want to say. i wish i knew but i don’t.

“because satoru asked you to be,” is all you can say.

he nods, pushing back his plate and standing up, offering you that same grin. “you’re right,” he hums, “that’s exactly why i’m here.”

it hits you why his smile is so unsettling once he leaves—it’s almost genuine, like he’s still loved you all this time. impossible, you tell yourself. suguru stopped loving you a long time ago. and you need to stop trying to figure out why.

————————————————

even despite telling yourself you don’t care what suguru thinks, a small part of you needs to prove to him you’re not scared of him. that you don’t fear for your own safety in your home, and that him being here is not some form of him haunting you. you don’t care. he shouldn’t get the luxury of thinking you care. he can come in and watch you sleep like the creep he is if he wants—you couldn’t bother to give it a second thought.

the first night you take a chance and leave the door unlocked, suguru slips into bed beside you. it wakes you up instantly, and before you can question it, his head tucks into your neck, and his hand grasps your shirt tightly. you notice the panting almost instantly—and then you realize, it must be a nightmare.

you fall into old habits, even after all these years, defaulting to care for him like it’s second nature.

“you’re safe, suguru,” is what you settle for saying after a moment of contemplation. it’s all you can really think to say, so you brush your lips over the top of his head as you murmur, “you’re safe,” over and over again.

as difficult as it is to have suguru around, as painful and cruel and aggravating as it is to be reminded of his distant existence even as he’s two doors down, this part feels natural. it’s almost like you’re back in jujutsu high, waking up to him sneaking into your room as he presses his weight over your body and wakes you with soft kisses along your face.

except this time, he’s not annoyingly demanding cuddles or telling you about his weird dream, he’s not stealing your blanket and demanding you play with his hair. this time, it’s not the same suguru—and this time, it’s not jujutsu high.

it’s your room. the one you got on the other side of town to leave the sorcery world behind, somehow still stuck right in the center of it no matter where you go. and yet, just like all those years ago, your legs tangle, and your arms wrap him up, and you murmur, “you’re safe,” while he catches his breath.

“but they’re not,” he mutters in between labored pants, making you pause.

and then you remember.

faintly, you recall the blonde and black hair from a distance, you remember bitterly wondering what’d it be like watching suguru fathering children of your own as you came to the reality that it would never happen. sometimes, you wonder if you hate nanako and mimiko for existing, for living as the dreams you never got to live through with suguru.

it’s selfish—to hate two children because they are what you do not have.

but then you feel something wet hit your neck, and then you wish they were okay—for his sake. and just for a moment, you’re selfless again.

“they’re not safe,” he mutters, making you sigh.

“they are,” you whisper, hesitating for a moment before letting your fingers slip into his hair. you scratch gently at his scalp, feeling his body melt into yours almost instantly—like it’s a response that’s natural to him. “they’re not suffering. not anymore.”

“is that supposed to make me feel better?” he scoffs. you shrug, letting your cheek press against the top of his head as you sigh.

“it helps me feel better,” you say softly, “‘s just how you learn to cope.”

it’s an understanding you both silently come to. loss on both sides. bloodshed on either ground. defeat no matter which ideal you take. to love is to bear the pain of mortality—it’s a lesson that you never cease to learn until the ends of time itself.

“the jujutsu world is one of suffering,” he grits, sniffling into your neck. you hum, pressing a kiss to his head as your eyes close.

“every world is one of suffering, suguru, you can’t erase them all. the sooner you realize that, the easier you’ll find peace.”

you fall into a slumber after that, faintly aware of the way he shuffles closer to you, faintly aware of the soft kiss pressed to your skin as sleep takes over your body and drifts you out of consciousness.

when you wake up the next morning, suguru is gone, and the door is closed. the blanket is tucked up to your chin, and your neck still tingles from last night.

————————————————

“get up,” you throw a pillow at suguru, waking him up with a start as he sits up. his hair is tousled and messy from sleep—it’s now long enough that he can put it in a bun without strands slipping from the bottom anymore. you chuckle as he glares at you, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he groans.

“the fuck was that for?” he grunts, holding the blanket up to cover his exposed chest.

it’s funny that he does that, in a way. it’s not as though you haven’t seen his chest…and then some too. it’s not like you haven’t torn his shirt off to stanch the flow of blood from his injuries before or feel the bare skin with your palm under the pale moonlight as the lingering scent of sex breezes through the room.

but somehow, even though he doesn’t need to cover his chest around you of all people, you’re glad that he does. truthfully, it keeps you slightly comforted to know that he’s aware you’re still technically strangers—no matter how well-versed you are in each other’s pasts. but you don’t ponder on it too much. instead, you grin, shoving aside the visual of the small glance you caught at his pecs, and you clap your hands to motion him to hurry.

“we are going grocery shopping,” you say casually—as though it’s not something to make him raise a brow in shock.

“me?” he points a finger at himself. you roll your eyes, and he challenges you with another raise of his brow. “aren’t i supposed to stay away from civilians?”

“yes, you,” you nod, pointing back at him, “and satoru has worked overtime to get you granted permission to roam around with me. he says you’re welcome, by the way.”

“tell him to go fuck off.”

“that’s ungrateful,” you say flatly, “his feelings will be hurt.”

“his feelings will find a way to cope,” suguru huffs. “i don’t want to be around…them,” he says bitterly.

you suppose it’s wishful thinking to hope suguru has let go of his past beliefs. perhaps he’s long abandoned the possibility of the vision he once planned on bringing to life, but you can’t say you expected him to revert back to the old suguru who fought alongside you and satoru. you yourself certainly have no intention of returning to the sorcery world after all the events, so you can’t say you’re shocked by the lack of change he seems to show. but then again, you suppose suguru has changed. whether he sees it or not.

he stays here and doesn’t put up a fight to leave even though he can now that he’s healed. he eats lunch when you tell him and even washes the dishes. sometimes, when you come home a bit late, dinner is even ready on the table as he sits and stares at you expectantly. his plate is empty like yours—like he’s been waiting for you even though he doesn’t need to. you suppose you can see he’s changed in the way he doesn’t scoff at the tv channels you surf through, he silently sits on the opposite end of the couch now and watches with you, and perhaps if you’re lucky, you’ll hear a light chuckle or a quiet sigh as the scenes roll on the screen.

you suppose this suguru is a step closer to your suguru every day he spends with you, but you don’t know if any suguru is what you need right now. perhaps that name should’ve been buried away as a distant memory, perhaps it should’ve only been something you unlock once every year on his death anniversary—when satoru clambers through your door drunk and unsteady as he clutches the hand that killed his best friend, only to share pancakes with you in the morning and pretend like you don’t notice the dried tears on his cheeks while he acts like he doesn’t catch the way your hand shakes as you cut into your breakfast.

but suguru is here now. whether it’s as geto, one half of the strongest duo in jujutsu high, whether it’s as suguru, the love of your life and the sole reason you exist, or whether it’s as geto suguru, the curse user and mass murderer who haunts your past, present, and everything in between.

so you simply sigh, grab the pillow again, and hit the top of his head before walking over to the door as you call over your shoulder, “i’m gonna wait for you by the door in fifteen minutes. be ready or face the consequences..”

“no thanks. don’t wanna,” suguru grumbles petulantly, frowning at you as you stick your tongue at him, smirking as if you’ve just played your ace.

“too bad,” you sing before swinging the door shut.

he’s at the door in exactly fifteen minutes, like he waited until the last possible second to join you as a move of spite. but you simply gesture him out the door and lock up, taking your sweet time as he stands there with an annoyed face. you stare at the doorknob once you’re done, taking a deep breath before turning to him with your best smile.

“let’s go,” you hum.

“after you,” he mutters.

—

he grimaces as soon as he sees the people going about their business, clearly unhappy with the idea of being around non-sorcerers, but one sharp glare from you has him sighing and trekking along. the grocery store, admittedly, is not as bad as suguru thinks—in fact, there are lots of things he doesn’t realize he misses until he watches you grab a shopping cart.

suddenly, he sees shadows. the silhouette of your figure climbing into the cart, the angry wave of satoru’s hands as he claims it's his turn to be pushed around, the figure of shoko pinching the bridge of her nose in irritation from the back—and then, he sees the dark shadow of baggy pants and a small bun. it’s him. suguru watches himself almost in slow motion through the remnants of his imagination as he gently shoves satoru out of the way and reaches to poke the tip of your nose before he pushes the cart with you in it.

it’s a happy memory—and it’s gone all too soon.

as soon as he blinks, the shadows have disappeared—instead, it’s you waving a hand in his face, concern written on your features as you call his name.

“suguru? hey, hello? are you with me?”

he exhales, pulled from his trance as he gently grabs your wrist from in front of his face and sets it down as he nods, “yeah, i’m fine. just thinking,” he mumbles.

for a second, you hesitate, like you almost mean to say something. but in the end, you only nod before turning to grab the shopping cart. but he stops you—grabs the handle and turns to you with a small smile on his face, making you raise a brow as he gently moves you away.

“what are you—”

“get in,” he grins, making you stare at him in bewilderment.

“what?”

“just get in,” he sighs, “you love it when you get to sit in the cart.”

“i’m not a teenager anymore—”

“get in, will you?” he groans, “always so damn difficult.”

“hey,” you pout, glaring at him with your hands planted at your hips, “that’s rude.” it’s cute. suguru stares at you with amusement in his eyes and a soft look on his face that you don’t think you’ve really seen in years.

“humor me,” he hums, “just get in, okay?”

so you do.

with a huff and a grumble under your breath, you fight back a smile and climb into the damn cart just like old times. you swallow and try not to let it get to you when he reaches over and pokes the tip of your nose and pushes the cart around, letting you name off the things you need from your list while he grabs them. and when he sneaks snacks into the pile, you roll your eyes and glare at him in the way you always did—the one that isn’t actually annoyed. fond. happy to let it slide because it’s him.

“we need candy,” you murmur, “that’s the last thing on the list.”

“okay. what kind?” he asks, turning the cart into the candy aisle and smiling softly down at you.

“doesn’t matter, satoru eats anything as long as it’s sweet. he’s more likely to die from sugar than fighting a curse, i think.”

“you buy candy for satoru?” he asks, making you shrug as you reach over and grab a few bags of candy off the shelves, setting them down beside you.

“he comes over a lot so i learned to keep stuff stocked up for him. you know how he gets when he’s hungry.”

suguru feels something he hasn’t felt since he was a teenager. jealousy—specifically of satoru.

suguru is not foolish. he knows as soon as he meets gojo satoru that of the two, one of them is stronger and it’s definitely not himself. for the longest time, he’s okay with that, okay being the strongest only when alongside satoru—until he’s not. and even if suguru always had a bit more attention in the romance department than satoru, in his head he’s always known that perhaps satoru can keep you safer, more well off, maybe even happier. with smooth smiles and eyes as welcoming as an oasis, gojo satoru would never leave you in the dark pit of misery as suguru once had.

something about the thought of you and satoru keeping each other company through the lonely years, filling that empty spot suguru left behind, sharing moments over candy and empty wrappers makes suguru wonder for a moment if perhaps he’d be happier if he stayed. maybe he could have worn a heartfelt smile in a world that carves them off the faces of sorcerers with bloody knives as long as you were there to wipe the blood.

but before he can dwell on it, you snatch one more bag—this time of his favorite candy, placing it into the cart and grinning gently up at him.

“i haven’t bought this one in years,” you admit, “i almost forget how it tastes.”

“me too,” he says quietly.

“well,” you hum, “we’ll have to have some when we’re home.”

home. you say it as though it belongs to him as much as it does you, and then like you always have, without even meaning to, you wash away the dark stains of his jealousy with no trace left behind.

“yeah,” he chuckles, “we—”

“daddy, look! candy!” suguru is cut off by the gentle pitter-patter of two tiny feet running into the aisle, pointing at a bag of candy as a man follows close behind.

his breath hitches.

she’s small, the girl—she has two pigtails with soft strands of blonde hair falling out of the loosely tied bands. it reminds suguru of the first time he perfected tying up nanako’s hair, the soft giggles behind her tiny hand as she twirled in the mirror.

there’s another girl in the man’s arms—dark hair on her head as she curls into her father’s chest and tucks her head into his neck when she sees you and suguru in the aisle. she’s shy, he realizes, like mimiko, and suddenly he remembers the tiny fingers that used to hook into his pants when she got too overwhelmed by the people around her, waiting for suguru to scoop her into his arms.

perhaps in another life, suguru would redo everything differently—he’d be happy with you and satoru and shoko, and nanami and haibara would be there too, well and alive. but no matter what, he’d never redo nanako and mimiko differently. he’d never change a thing about them, not even the way nanako whines too much about small things or the way mimiko never speaks up even when something is clearly bothering her. he’d never change the way he saved them and took them in at the tender age of eighteen, too lost to be a father but choosing to raise them anyway. he’d never change the feeling of pure joy and unbridled pride when they climbed into his bed for the first time, shushing each other so as not to wake him—even though he’d awoken as soon as the door to his room opened.

because he realized that night that yeah, maybe he’d made mistakes in his lifetime, lots of them too. maybe he’d made a bad choice choosing the path he did, or maybe he didn’t. he’s never been completely sure—just that he had to try at least to make his vision for a different world come to life. but one mistake he never made was his girls. one thing he was always sure about was the soft clutch at his pants and the tiny hands reaching for his own.

suguru wouldn’t change anything about nanako and mimiko—except maybe the fact that they aren’t here, gone because of him.

“suguru?” you ask softly, reaching for his hand as he grips the cart tightly and pulling his gaze away from the family in the distance.

he blinks, meets your eyes, and knows that you know. with one glance at your face, he knows you understand. the world is cruel, one filled with suffering, he thinks. but then he remembers what you said, that every world is full of suffering, not just his—that it’s a truth he has to come face to face with.

but it’s hard. it’s hard when this man has his two little girls and suguru does not—it’s hard to watch someone have what he wants with no worries of losing it, all because of people and their own weaknesses. he thinks for a moment that he’s been right all along—that non-sorcerers are too weak for this life, that the jujutsu world has always suffered so they don’t have to.

but then the man speaks up, catching both of your attention.

“your mother used to love those,” he says quietly to his daughter, a pained smile on his face. instantly, you and suguru both seem to understand the weight of that single sentence.

every world has its own pain, suguru realizes. its own cruelties and unfairness, its own way of bringing suffering in its wake as it rips away the things closest to you from your begging fingertips, leaving them cold and empty and numb from the lost weight underneath them.

“let’s go, suguru,” you whisper, “we have everything we came for.”

“yeah,” he whispers back, clearing his throat so his voice doesn’t crack, “let’s go.”

suguru leaves the grocery store with you after you pay, and for a brief moment, he’s unsure. unsure whether he’s grateful to satoru for fighting for him to be able to come and grateful to you for dragging him along, or if he wishes he died along with the rubble, gone before you could find him and turn him into this.

“before you even think about hiding away in your room,” you say, grabbing the bags from the cart as you put it back where it belongs, “you have to help with putting away the groceries.”

“sure,” he says smoothly. he grabs all the heavy bags from your hand, and you make a move to protest that you don’t need him to take the heavier ones, that you’re fine and can handle them like you’ve always handled them.

but he walks off, and finally, you decide to simply follow.

————————————————

satoru likes to come and visit—you’ve started a routine movie night every week (unless he’s away, of course.) it’s fun, but it also means he makes your veins pop because he’s a headache like that—always makes himself right at home and eats your snacks like this is his place and not yours. he helps himself to your already limited candy and puts his sock-clad feet up on the coffee table no matter how many times you tell him not to.

you try sitting with legs as long as these, he always whines, earning a harsh glare from you as you smack at his shins until he ultimately caves and begrudgingly sets his feet down.

but then they always make their way back up to the coffee table, and you’re too busy enjoying his company to care—although you’ll never admit it.

satoru is endearing like that, swallowing the dark clouds from your shoulders whole and eating up your burdens with that side of responsibility that you don’t think you could ever stomach. satoru is just like that, you realize, taking the brunt of the weight and laughing off every concern until you can’t help but not take them seriously yourself.

it’s hard to remember that sometimes you didn’t just lose suguru, the love of your life, that night. everyone lost something. shoko lost someone to smoke with, yaga lost a student to scold, nanami lost a headache to avoid, and satoru?

well…satoru lost what you think might’ve been the only filled void of his miserably empty life.

it’s hard to remember that satoru lost his best friend—the only best friend he’s ever had (although you like to think of yourself as a close contender)—because he’s so good at letting you forget. he brings you ice cream (that he eats half of because it’s only fair he gets a share), and he sits and hogs your couch (that he argues you don’t really need as much space as him on because your legs aren’t as long), and he watches those stupid sitcoms that are dry with boring jokes (that you used to make suguru watch back in the day).

it’s hard to remember that satoru also lost as much as you because he’s so damn good at making you forget about your own loss, you don’t care to think about anyone else’s for a while. just a short while. just until he’s yawning that obnoxiously loud yawn and stretching those awkwardly long limbs of his before he claims he really should go and that being the world’s best teacher requires as many hours of beauty sleep as you can squeeze in.

and then he’s off. and it’s empty again. and just like that, you’re reminded of why he was there in the first place—to fill in that sick and painful void that geto suguru left in you.

it’s gaping, like he tore a chunk of you right out with sharp teeth, like you’re just a piece of meat for him to get his fill of. if suguru really loved you, would you be so easy to let go of? why couldn’t he smile? because you could—god, you could smile just from the sight of him alone, you realize a long time ago. him with his cigarette tucked between his lips, those death sticks as you called them, hung loosely from his mouth as he gives you a lopsided grin.

geto suguru is enough of a reason to smile. the world could crumble at your feet and leave you with nothing but rubble and dirt, and still, suguru is the core of the earth you’re searching for.

so why couldn’t you be the same? what is it you were missing? what about you was just not enough for him like the way he was enough for you?

it dawns on you one night, through bitter tears and shaky sobs, and that sick, twisted, pleading feeling in your gut that begs the wind to carry him back to you—geto suguru has never loved you the way you loved him.

and for that, you can never forgive him, you don’t think.

“you tryin’ to go bug-eyed?” he asks, settling down on the couch next to you, making you snap out of your trance. you shake your head a little, stare back at him for a moment before putting on that look on your face where you roll your eyes and pretend everything is fine.

“no,” you huff, “i’m just thinking.”

“about…?”

“satoru has rarely ever missed a movie night.”

“maybe he’s sick of you,” he shrugs, grinning slyly at you as you narrow your eyes with a glare, “there’s someone here to keep you company now so he’s probably taken his opportunity to run.”

“you’re hardly company,” you scoff, “freeloader.”

“hey,” he defends, shrugging as if it’s not his fault. you suppose it’s not. “i didn’t ask to be rescued. you can’t be high and mighty and petty. ‘s not how that works.”

“says who? you don’t make the rules. i can be graciously kind and a jerk all at once.”

“complexity,” he nods, “i like it.”

“i’m not as complicated as you might think,” you grumble, crossing your arms as you stare at the time. yeah, satoru isn’t making it—which, he told you as much, but he’s strolled in at the last second too many times to count before. you figure today would be the same. “as long as you don’t skip movie nights with me, i’m pretty simple to keep appeased.”

“alright,” he props his feet up on the coffee table—seriously, what is it with asshole men putting their feet on your table? satoru is a terrible influence. “let’s have a movie night.”

“what?” you blink.

“movie night,” he repeats, “you said you don’t like skipping movie night—”

“well, i meant i don’t like satoru skipping movie—”

“well, it was me before satoru, wasn’t it?” he says with a smile. his eyes are closed, crinkled at the corners, but his voice is carefully neutral—like he takes extra care not to let you see any emotion behind it.

but that only means there is an emotion, isn’t there? is he jealous? does he hate the fact that you and satoru have a routine of your own without him? that you don’t need him to continue living your life?

good. he should be. he walked out on you all those years ago. he killed a village. killed his parents. you never even got to meet them—he never even got to take you home and introduce you to them before he ripped away every fantasy you ever had with him.

and now he’s back—he has the audacity to live, to laugh in your face with his existence that yes, geto suguru is here. and he was supposed to be executed, but your stubborn friend didn’t let that happen. he was supposed to be your husband by now with kids and a happy little home, and you were supposed to be his parent’s new addition to their family that they loved so much. but none of that is even close to happening, and it’s suguru’s fault, and the least he can do is show you some regret and maybe feel just the slightest bit bad that you now have to watch shitty movies with his best friend instead of him to feel normal.

ex-best friend? half best friend? you don’t even know—do they still consider each other their best friends? does anyone consider suguru anything? you don’t know what you consider him. but you think the least he can do is act just the slightest bit pathetic after making you feel so pathetic for so long just to even the score.

he should be a stranger. he feels like an old friend. but either is dangerous.

“alright,” you sigh, “let's bring back movie night. don’t fall asleep.”

“i get plenty of sleep nowadays,” he hums, “i have more than enough free time for that now.”

“how lucky of you,” you snort.

—

picking a movie with suguru is difficult. he actually has standards—satoru watches anything so long as he gets snacks, and he can make anything fun to watch with the way he comments from the side like a critic. suguru, on the other hand, actually cares about the quality of a movie, the metrics that make it good.

so you pick the hunger games just to piss him off.

“seriously?” he raises a brow, “this is your pick?”

“yes,” you grin, “i like these movies.”

“of all movies—”

“my house, my rules,” you grin cheekily, “you can pick the movies as soon as you start paying the bills.”

“wow,” he deadpans, “stooping to use my financial status against me? i thought you were better than this.”

“oh suguru,” you sigh dramatically, grabbing a bag of chips from the table, “you don’t know me at all.”

all things considered, you think it’s a rather enjoyable experience. it’s not as fun without satoru’s stupid comments that you pretend to hate, but suguru provides his own commentary that earns a giggle out of you here and there too—although his are not meant to be funny. but that’s the appeal of it, you think.

“she should have picked gale,” he mumbles. you raise a brow.

“peeta was always there for her, did you miss the rain scene?”

“so was gale,” he says smoothly, grabbing a chip from your bag and making you scowl.

“gale killed her sister,” you point out, “and a lot of other people too. he was ruthless. she needed peeta.”

“gale did what he had to do,” suguru mumbles.

suddenly, it doesn’t really feel like you’re discussing the movie anymore. it feels more than that. it feels sickening—the air is heavy, and your throat is dry and god, you just wanted a movie night and not this heaviness as you talk about stuff from the past without actually talking about it.

you blink before turning to your chips, playing around with the bag as you shrug.

“in the end he didn’t get katniss, did he?”

suguru studies you for a moment, stares a little too deep into you that you start to feel the urge to bolt to your room and go to bed.

“guess not,” he says quietly, “guess that’s the one regret he has, huh?”

you think for a second, as suguru stares at your eyes with something you can’t quite read, that you might cry. you might cry and throw that half-empty can of soda in his face for speaking in codes and making you question what he means and remember your past. you might cry because suguru could’ve always gotten you—in fact, he had you.

it’s not fair. nothing is, but you can’t help but dwell on it.

“i’m going to bed. it’s late,” you mumble after a few moments, standing. he only nods, staring at the tv as the credits roll. when you make it to your room and the door shuts behind you, you debate clicking the lock in place.

in the end, you don’t lock the door. suguru climbs into bed with you once more later that night, shaking slightly from his nightmare but calmer than usual. he’s still gone by the time morning comes, and you still never mention it.

it hits you one night that maybe he still has you—maybe you never let him stop having you, no matter what you say.

————————————————

suguru is good at cleaning while you’re away. you have to go out and do adult things like breadwinning and grocery shopping and bill paying. he dusts and cleans and even takes out the trash when you’re home to monitor him as he steps two feet out of your front door. sometimes, because you like to get on his nerves, you accidentally mess up a corner of the house just as he cleans it, laughing as he shoots you an unimpressed look.

“stop getting crumbs on the floor,” he mumbles, “i just vacuumed.”

“you make a good malewife,” you giggle, “vacuuming and everything. how cute.”

“don’t call me that,” he grumbles, sitting down on the couch.

“but you missed a spot,” you point to the crumbs you’ve sprinkled from your fingers as you snack away, making him glare. “failwife.”

“i’m going to divorce you and take everything,” he snaps, making you snort as you put your hands up in surrender.

“you don’t have to, you know,” you murmur, “clean, i mean. i can handle it.”

“i think i should carry my weight around here,” he shrugs, “since you are basically sugar babying me around for now.”

“dangerous curse user to the world, but sugar baby to me,” you tease, pulling a chuckle out of him as he rolls his eyes.

sometimes it’s nice to have his company. suguru is good with banter like that, he’s not annoying like satoru where you run in circles. suguru makes you laugh from your belly, makes the hiccups catch in your throat as you double over. he’s always been like that, always known how to make laughter pour from your lips and trickle down your chin. it’s comforting to know he still knows how. it leaves a small amount of bitterness that he’s still able to make you feel like this.

“by the way, next time you go shopping, take me with you,” he says casually, “i need to buy stuff for my hair. it’s growing.”

“you’ll finally see the sun just for your hair?” you gasp, “who knew that’s all it’d take?”

despite the playfulness in your words, there’s still shock. suguru is willingly stepping foot outside your house. he’s finally choosing to return to life after living like a recluse no matter how many times you and satoru have tried to beg him to get up and go somewhere. the most you can get out of him is a walk around the neighborhood before he goes back to wandering your home and hiding away in his room.

suguru is returning to life, his life, and you can’t help but wonder where that leaves room for you.

“my hair is my charm,” he reasons, “wouldn’t you agree?”

there’s a smirk on his lips when he asks—it’s like he’s seventeen and teasing you again, giving you that unfairly flirty smile that used to make you stutter as a kid. back when you were hopelessly in love. back when it was you, suguru, and the world in your corner. back when you had dreams of your future, practically giggling as you planned it away in a notebook.

suguru was always perfect like that, the kind of guy you could only dream about. he’s always been handsome—he’s always been the center of attention everywhere you went. you used to huff about it, about all the attention he managed to get from walking into a room alone. but then he’d smile, give you that tender look of his as he’d chuckle, and you’d be hopeless again.

he shouldn’t have that effect on you anymore after over a decade. but he does. it’s cruel, the way the universe works. it’s like there’s a magnet that pushes you together no matter how far you try to go, still pulled by gravity straight into his awaiting eyes and devilish smile.

“i cut your hair off once, i can do it again,” you huff. he laughs, it’s good-natured and kind.

“i was a bit heartbroken when i realized it was so short, i have to admit,” he says, “i didn’t look like me.”

“you looked good,” you say quietly, “i think you’d make anything work, to be honest.”

“yeah?” he grins, “any requests? i might consider it if it’s you.”

“oh shut up,” you roll your eyes, “how about shaving your head bald? let's see how much charm you have without all that hair.”

“i could charm you without the hair still, couldn’t i?” he winks.

it’s unfair how he acts like normal. like a few months in your home undoes everything he’s ever committed, all the atrocities he’s caused. the way he flirts with you feels like you’re his again. the way he’s aged and changed feels like you’re meeting someone new. you don’t understand how suguru is so natural with that—with seamlessly falling back into a rhythm with you like nothing has changed at all.

deep down, you know that suguru is just moving on with his life. he’s making the most of what he can. he can’t die, satoru would never let him have a peaceful death after all this. he can’t go back to the way things used to be, whether that’s his sorcery days or his curse user days, and he certainly can’t start over. so he’s making do with what he has—which is very little in reality.

it’s you, your home, and the biweekly visits from satoru and occasionally shoko. so he weaves you seamlessly into his life and treats you with a sense of normalcy you can’t hope to treat him with. maybe it’s because suguru was actually able to move on after he left.

it’s the part you hated him most for. for building a family with new people. for having two girls that he raised as daughters. for finding people to follow him and trust. suguru, after he walked away from everything he ever knew, actually did something with his life—even if it could hardly be considered good.

you? you fell deeper and deeper into a pit of denial until clawing your way back out was too impossible, until you had to leave behind everything you’ve ever known to get away from the remnants of his existence.

it’s easy for him to weave you back into his life because he chose to cut you loose. it feels damn near impossible to let him weave back into yours after he tore himself from the edges and frayed away.

“don’t do that,” you sigh, making him frown.

“do what?”

“you know what, suguru,” you pinch your nose in frustration, “stop acting like things are normal.”

“things are definitely not normal,” he snorts bitterly, “i think needing your approval to take the trash out is not equal to normal.”

“then why are you acting like…” you trail off, unsure.

“like what?” he raises a brow.

“like we never changed,” you slam your hands down on the couch in exasperation.

he stares at you for a minute, blinks once, then twice, and then furrows his brows.

“well, of course we changed,” he mumbles in confusion, “i know that—”

you shouldn’t have said anything. you quickly realize that. suguru is not trying to act like things are normal—he’s trying to be civil, and you’re just a fool. a fool who looks too deeply into everything and assumes what you want to out of things and god, you’ve embarrassed yourself in front of your one and only ex-boyfriend in over a decade who was once dead and somehow came back to the land of the living.

of course, he knows things are not the same. he doesn’t want what you think he does. it’s been years and suguru has moved on—he had already moved on all those years ago, and you’re the only one here that is still focused on the past. and now he knows it too.

you stand before he can finish, nodding as you stare down instead of meeting his eyes, pretending to adjust your clothes.

“right, of course you do,” you nod, “i don’t know why i said that. just ignore me, i’ll be going to my room now. i have…things to do, so i’ll be—”

“hang on,” he frowns, hand grabbing your wrist, “i don’t mean it like that,” he says gently.

fuck geto suguru for being so confusing and fuck him for being nice about it too.

“you can let go, suguru,” you pull at your wrist, “forget what i said, i wasn’t thinking—”

“i still feel the same,” he cuts you off, making your eyes widen, “if that’s what you mean. i never stopped.”

never stopped—that’s almost worse than moving on. how could he have felt the same all those years and still never come back?

“that does not help even a little,” you swallow the lump in your throat. “that makes this so much worse, do you see that?”

“i know,” he sighs, “i’m sor—”

“don’t say you’re sorry,” you grit your teeth, “we both know you’re not.”

“maybe not,” he admits, “i had to try. and that meant leaving—i’m sorry that’s not what you wanted.”

“it’s not!” you turn around, pulling your arm out of his grasp—suguru, for what it’s worth, takes the shove to his chest like a champ. “of course i didn’t want you to leave and kill a bunch of people and have an execution stamped on your forehead and live your life without me.”

“i know—”

“and now you’re back. back! in my house, eating my food and sleeping in my bed for half the night and i just have to act like this is normal. how is any of this normal?”

“it’s not,” he agrees. he’s calm. so calm, it almost makes you mad. why is he so calm? “nothing about anything in our lives is normal. it never was.”

“you ruined my life,” you blink back tears. he smiles sadly, taking a step closer.

“i guess i can take the blame for that,” he nods, hands finding their way to your hips. against your better judgment, you lean half your weight against his body. this is bad, very bad—but it’s also the best thing ever.

being close to suguru feels like the sun’s heat tearing through your skin—it’s warm. it’s pleasant. it leaves you parched and drained with a dry throat. but still, you need it to survive.

“why did you come back?” you ask tiredly. his hand finds the small of your back, rubbing slow circles.

“i don’t know,” he hums, “i didn’t really get a say. maybe i was always meant to, who knows?”

you look at him at that—tilt your head to get a good look at his features. his eyes are more tired, and his cheeks are a bit more sunken in compared to the youthful flesh you remember him with. his hair isn’t as healthy, and his forehead has the slightest traces of pale marks from the scars. but he’s still suguru—and you have always loved suguru, even if he gives you every reason to hate him.

“you make my life unreasonably difficult,” you mutter.

he hums, smiling. “can i?” he asks breathlessly, pleadingly. you stare at his eyes, he stares at your lips. you know what he wants—but fuck, you can’t let him have it so easy.

“can you what?” you ask, raising a brow slowly.

“are you really gonna make me say it?” he grunts, lips almost curled into a pout. it’s cute, the way he looks longingly at your lips—it’s so cute and beautiful and dangerous all at once, just like suguru.

“yes,” you say, “yes i am. i deserve to hear it suguru, after everything you put me through. you…you left me. i wasn’t enough for you. i mourned you. i grieved a body i never even saw. do you know what that does to a person? to lose them not once but two times? the least you could do is tell me what you want,” your voice wavers just a little.

it shakes for the lost time. for the moments you’ll never have. for the memories you lost. for the past that’s tainted. time is cruel like that. but that’s the beauty of it all—the fragility. it’s like sand falling through the cracks of your fingers, every grain slipping from your reach but still soft and soothing against your skin as it falls. everything fades over time, everything starts to hurt one way or another. but it stops. it heals. it starts over. the sand fills the cup of your palms again, warm and delicate and just as beautiful as before it crumbled.

“can i kiss you?” he asks desperately, “please?”

“kissing me is not a temporary thing,” you shake your head, “not anymore. it’s for good. only for good.”

“i want to kiss you for good,” he nods, hands digging into your hips impatiently. you’re close. you’re too far. he can feel you, smell you, hear your unsteady breaths. but it’s not enough. he needs to devour you, taste you on his tongue, and melt you with his touch. “i won’t stop this time,” he promises.

“you better not,” you sniffle, tears blurring your vision. you hated suguru for leaving you. you hated him for coming back to you like this. you never stopped loving him, never will stop loving him—and maybe that’s what love is. when the darkness is worth trekking through for the afterglow of the light. “if you fucking leave me again, you’re dead to me. i don’t care how many times you come back to life. you’re dead to me.”

“okay,” he agrees through a shaky chuckle, “i suppose i deserve that. let me kiss you, yeah?”

“yeah,” you breathe.

he kisses you—years too late, he kisses you. it feels like you’re teenagers again. it feels different and foreign. you know this feeling like the back of your hand. you don’t understand what this sensation is anymore. it’s new. it’s old. it’s perfect. it hurts. suguru is here. he promised not to leave—you don’t know if you believe him, but you’re going to trust that finally, for once, you are enough.

you’re enough to make him happy. to give him a sense of purpose. to keep him swimming when his limbs start to sink.

finally, for once, you’re enough.

“i love you,” he whispers against your mouth, breathing the words into you like he’s offering you the air from his lungs, “i never stopped. i promise.”

“you don’t deserve to hear it from me,” you murmur back, panting against his lips, “not yet.”

“fair enough,” he chuckles, “you sure know how to leave a guy waiting.”

“i learned from the best,” you shoot back.

he grins—suguru smiles, heartfelt and real. life is full of misery, it’s painful, and nothing fucking makes sense. everything is cruel. everything dies no matter how carefully you water the roots. there’s always something, someone, ready to tear it from the earth. but if you keep planting the seeds, suguru will keep watering.

maybe something kind can bloom from that, something big enough for him to hide under the shade when the scorching heat of tragedy becomes too much.

in this world or in the jujutsu world; in this life or in the next. suguru is yours.

“why am i here?” he asks gently, his face digging into your neck. you hold him, cradling the back of his head as you hum.

“because i need you here. will you stay?”

“yes,” he murmurs, “i think i’ll stay.”

hi. i have been working on this since march. its still not how i envisioned it to be originally but that's okay. i had fun writing it and it means a lot to me even tho its kind of. well....cliche LMAO like everything i write. but. i enjoy the cliches okay ?? i do. kxljchskdf hope u guys didn't hate it </3

also the fic banner is …. not the greatest. just ignore it ok

#teepods.writings #fics.#geto x reader #geto x you #geto fluff #geto angst #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fluff #jjk angst #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #geto suguru angst #geto suguru fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen angst #jujutsu kaisen fluff

6K notes · View notes

leclercsainzz · 5 months

Note

hello love x

i was wondering if you could potentially do one where the reader is an actress and is in the new hunger games movies and everyone ships her with tom but she’s also dating lando … could you make a love triangle situation with these two?? like maybe she hangs out with tom more than lando or something idk lol u can come up with anything (you can decide who the endgame is) sort of like a illicit affair or where maybe she is seeing tom and everyone is aware of it idk??? (at this point im just saying nonsense i think lol)

ILLICIT AFFAIRS

PAIRINGS: lando norris x gf!reader / tom blyth x fem!reader

TYPE: social media au

WARNING: // cheating implied

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5

yourusername

liked by landonorris, tomblyth and 689,736 others

yourusername: making this movie was hands-down one of the best experiences of my life thus far! i cannot wait to share more behind the scenes content with you all:)) and with only one week to spare .. see you out there on our press tour!

view 5,846 comments

landonorris: can’t wait!

landonorris: proud of you, my love!! ❤️

↳ yourusername: ilyyyyy 😘

↳ user: lando being a supportive bf >>>

↳ user: alexa, how to get my own lando norris?? 😭

user: she’s so pretty, i can’t

user: after reading the book, i just know this movies gonna break me 😩😩😩😩

user: LANDO LET ME HAVE HER, PLEASE

user: SCREAMING!!! CANNOT WAIT!!!!

user: i have been looking forward to this movie since they announced it, can’t believe we’re only one week away

joshandresrivera: who’s the cute guy at the end??

↳ yourusername: just some guy i know 🤷🏻‍♀️

user: caNnot wait, omggggg

user: read the book and idk if i’m mentally prepared

user: you look soo good 😩😩😩

songbirdsandsnakes: our lucy gray ❤️❤️

user: i’m actually freaking tf out about this alapapalddbsod

user: YES YES YES YES YES

oscarpiastri: can i get free tickets?

↳ yourusername: absolutely!

↳ user: i love this duo so much 🤣

user: movie of the year incoming????

user: the movie hasn’t even come out yet and the amount of snow x lucy gray edits i’ve seen just from the trailer alone 😩

↳ user: i just know once the movie comes out they’ll be all over tiktok …. i can’t wait tho!!!!!!

user: i just realized that jason schwartman, viola davis, and peter dinklage are in this too!!! alwnsofnf

user: i’ve seen the trailer like 10+ times, can’t wait!!

hunterschafar: ❤️

user: will josh and jlaw be in this??

↳ user: noooo 💀 bro, this is set 64 years before them

user: she’s playing lucy gray right???

↳ user: yes

user: AHHHHHH

user: can’t wait for all the interviews omg!!!!

user: yn and the hunger games???? SIGN ME TF UPPP

user: soo excited over this

user: i wonder if lando will be attending the premiere

yourusername

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 675,758 others

yourusername: last race with my favorite boyyy 🥺🧡

tagged: @landonorris

view 4,846 comments

user: LAST RACE??? WHYYY????

↳ user: she starts press tour tomorrow for the hunger games

user: ima miss seeing you in the paddock 😩

user: ima miss you in the paddock 😩 but i cannot wait for the hunger games press interviews

user: his smile 😩😩

user: my fav papayas 🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡 + oscar

user: the first pic 😭😭

user: last race??? nooooooo

user: wait, im confused …. why’s she leaving???

user: gonna miss you

user: last pic 😩

user: YN?!?!!? YOURE LEAVING??!?? 😭😭😭😭😭

user: my favssssss 🧡

user: ya’ll acting as if she’s leaving forever and won’t see her again lmaooo 🤣 she’s doing press tour bc the movie she’s in comes out in a week

landonorris: 😘😘😘

landonorris: gonna miss your cute face 🥺

↳ yourusername: gonna miss you tooo, pretty boy 🥺

user: the way he smiles around her

user: wait when is she leaving???

↳ yourusername: a little after the race

↳ user: wait why tho??

↳ user: she starts press tour tomorrow since her movie comes out next week lol

oscarpiastri: that smile thoooo 🤭

user: where is she going????

user: THE best couple

user: what movie is she going for?

↳ user: the hunger games

↳ user: WAIT FRR????? is it the new one???

user: parents, frrrrr 😍

user: can’t wait for press tour, i just know she’s gonna slay

carlossainz55: pic creds to me, thank you 💁🏻‍♂️

↳ yourusername: 🙄🙄🙄 yea yea

↳ landonorris: 😘

↳ user: ynlando who??? i only know carlando ❤️🧡

user: they’re the reason i believe in love ❤️❤️

user: the way he looks at her, bro 😭😭😭

↳ user: he’s sooo in love, i can’t 😩😩

user: we won’t see ynlando for a while 😭

user: my ynlando heart 😍😍😍❤️❤️

yourusername

liked by landonorris, hunterschafer and 689,945 others

yourusername: thank you, berlin ❤️ @thehungergames

tagged: @tomblyth @hunterschafer @joshandresrivera

view 7,526 comments

user: THE REFERENCE OMG!!!!

user: MOTHER IS SERVING, OOH MYYYY 😍😍😍😍

user: he’s sooo fine!! but he looks EXTRA FINE with the buzz cut & blonde hair 😮‍💨

📌 pinned

↳ yourusername: told yaaaa @tomblyth

joshandresrivera: ohh hiiii 👋🏼

user: yn came to serve

user: tom’s the new white boy of the month!!!

user: HER PINNED COMMENT

user: tom’s soo good looking 😩

user: she’s so beautiful 😍😍

hunterschafer: WERK

↳ yourusername: are we about to kiss rn?

user: okay but why do i ship her and tom?? 🫣

user: idc what anyone says, she looks gorgeous! 😍

user: ngl but tom and yn look good together 🤷🏻‍♀️

↳ user: she’s got a bf and he’s got a gf

user: this man’s gorgeous but i also gotta remember he’s the one responsible for finnick’s death

↳ yourusername: same bestie 🥺

↳ user: OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG

user: okay but her and tom look soo good 😩😩

landonorris: stunning 😍

landonorris: you’re gorgeous

↳ yourusername: 😘😘😘😘

↳ user: them >>>

↳ user: missing them rn 😩😩

user: dress is gorgeous! she’s gorgeous! i just don’t like the top of the dress, if i’m being honest

tomblyth: ❤️❤️

user: cannot wait till the movie is out!!!!

user: tHe second slide and fourth slide slandnslsmd

user: oBSESSED 😩😩😩😩

user: i can already tell yn and tom are gonna be my fav duo

user: tom tho 😍

user: you look soo beautiful, i can’t 😩

user: 😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍

user: i’m already a simp for president snow, and the movie hasn’t even come out yet

user: TOM, OMG 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

user: THE WAY SHE PINNED THAT ONE COMMENT 😂 yn being a coriolanus simp confirmed???

user: everything about you is soo slayyyyyyyyyy

user: nothing beats the original cast but they all look sooooo good, i can’t even lie

user: the dress reference 🤩

user: PLEASE GIVE TOM MY NUMBER!!!! OR GIVE ME HIS NUMBER EITHER IS FINE WITH ME

user: is it just me or does tom look better with the buzz cut and blonde hair???

↳ yourusername: you’re not the only one 😩 ive told him several times!!!!!!

yourusername

liked by joshandresrivera, landonorris and 699,947 others

yourusername: world premiere for @thehungergames 🇬🇧

view 6,836 comments

user: THE THRID POST ALSNDKDKDMDNSN

user: i ship

user: why do they look so in love in that third slide??

joshandresrivera: 🧡

user: yn, babe, where’s lando????

user: that don’t look like lando to me 👀

user: the chemistry is INSANE 😮‍💨

landonorris: you’re killing it, babe ❤️

↳ yourusername: 😘😘 love yaa

↳ landonorris: i love you moreeee 😘

↳ user: parents 😭😭😭

user: i hope her and tom date, they look so good together

user: ya’ll gotta stop shipping tom and yn, yn’s literally dating lando and tom’s got a girlfriend

user: tom and her look so good 😩😩😩

tomblyth: love you, gorgeous ❤️

↳ yourusername: ❤️❤️

↳ user: IM SORRY WHAT??!???

↳ user: excuse me??? sir????

user: TOMS COMMENT AKALSMDN

user: the chemistry is INSANE

user: he called her gorgeous 😭😭😭 brb gonna go cry

hunterschafer: YUPPPPP

hunterschafer: serving as always!

user: MOTHER IS SERVING 😍😍😍

user: obsessed with you and tom 😍😍😍

user: if i were lando, i would be crying in a corner rn

user: why do they look like a couple in that third slide??

user: toMs’S COMMENT!! he called her gorgeous

user: ya’ll shipping her with tom as if she doesn’t have a bf

↳ user: have you ever heard of cheating??

user: ya’ll see the interview?? she called him delicious and said that it’s so easy to fall in love with him 😭😭

↳ user: she said, “and getting to work with that is delicious to an actor like me” bffr she never said anything about it being easy to fall in love with him 🙄

↳ user: actually she did proceed to talk about how easy it is to fall in love with him?????? if anything you bffr

user: @landonorris come get your girl

user: she’s so touchy with him 🙄🙄🙄🙄

user: LANDO OPEN YOUR EYES

user: we’re all thinking the same thing right?? 😏

user: they’re definitely fucking around

tomblyth

liked by yourusername, hunterschafer and 678,927 others

tomblyth: thank you, l.a. 🤩

tagged: @yourusername @joshandresrivera @hunterschafer

view 5,936 comments

user: ngl but yn and tom look cute together

user: PARENTS FRRRR 😍😍😍😍😍

user: lando & yn >>>>>

user: they have sm tension

user: ya’ll are crazy if you think yn would leave lando for tom

↳ user: and youre crazy for not thinking that maybe yn already cheated on lando with tom 🫢

user: @landonorris @landonorris @landonorris

user: lando’s busy trying to win a race while yn’s busy fooling around with tom

yourusername: SNOW FALLS ON TOP!!!

↳ user: yes, on top of you

↳ user: nahhhhh 😭😭😭

user: how’d you know about the tattoo??? 👀

yourusername: love yaaaa ❤️

↳ tomblyth: back at you! ❤️

↳ user: @landonorris

hunterschafer: cute

↳ user: how does it feel to third wheel all the time?

user: yn’s literally soo gorgeous!!! 😩

user: if i were yn, i’d be all over him too, idcccc

user: lando’s stronger than me bc if my gf was like this with another man id be going apeshit

user: they’re 100% having an affair

↳ user: ohh definitely!

↳ user: the fact that he knew about her tattoo that none of us knew about says a lot!!!! this man has explored her body

user: yntom >>> ❤️❤️❤️

user: i wonder if lando knows about the tattoo tom was referring to

↳ user: that man is clueless like the rest of us

user: @landonorris

user: not ppl tagging lando 😭😭

↳ user: he’s gottta open his eyes

↳ user: @landonorris

imessage

— author’s note: this is simply for the story, i’m aware that rachael and tom both have partners

pt2?

2K notes · View notes

skyewritesstuff · 5 months

Text

greedy | p. mellark

my masterlist.

summary: after months of being in what you think is a situationship with peeta, you finally confront him about whether or not there's anything truly there or if you're just another girl who has fallen for his kindness and misinterpreted the signs.

pairing: peeta mellark x reader (college!au, fratboy!peeta if you squint)

fandom: the hunger games

warnings: nothing too serious. implied nsfw at the end. afab reader. sorta ooc peeta...it's mostly environmental because we all know peeta's a flirt.

notes: based on greedy by tate mcrae even though the verse at the end gives me everlark vibes. also, this has been beta read. :)

word count: 2.8k

He’s here. Are you coming?

You looked at the blue and gray text thread, Clove’s name, and contact picture with a little clover emoji sitting right on top of it. A sigh escaped you as you looked up from your phone at the fraternity house that was positioned in front of you. You’d been leaning against the fencing that surrounded the yard for what felt like an hour, but in reality, it’d only been a few minutes.

As of late, facing Peeta Mellark has always been an unpredictable situation. While he was kind, polite, and charismatic, that charisma oftentimes led to him getting entangled metaphorically (at least you hoped) with other girls. You couldn’t tell if he didn’t know how to say no, was weighing out his options, or if he was what Clove often referred to as a “fuckboy”.

Fuck it. You rolled your eyes, stuffed your phone into your jacket pocket, and made your way across the cement walkway leading to the house. Having second thoughts, you pulled your phone back out, pulling up the same conversation with Clove.

Is she here?

The person you were speaking of was none other than Katniss Everdeen. She was the most recent girl that Peeta had been hanging around with and was simultaneously the cause of your latest installment of confusion. According to some of your other friends, she’d been friends with Peeta for a while and the study date you ran up on in the library was nothing but a platonic catch-up amongst busy friends.

However, one Madge Undersee had more than the opposite to say. All it took was one group mirror shot in the bathroom at a nightclub posted on Instagram, featuring you and Peeta in the outskirts of the photo, his arm wrapped securely around your waist, for her to send you a heated DM saying that he and Katniss had been a thing for forever and that you were coming between them.

You very quickly sent back, “Funny how the alleged ‘other girl’ always gets shit while the dude gets to slide by.” with a sarcastically placed upside-down smiley that was left on read still to this day.

A typing bubble appeared in Clove’s thread.

I don’t think so!

You let out another sigh, relieved that for now, Katniss wasn’t a worry. You walked into the house, looking around. There was a cloud of smoke in the air, presumably from various substances and/or a smoke machine, and bright lights coming from various directions. You squinted, trying to make out anyone you knew, but specifically trying to find Clove.

“Hey!” The greeting was slurred, long, and drawn out as an arm was all but dropped onto your shoulders. Finnick Odair was standing beside you, laughing at what appeared to be nothing. Finnick was a grad student that you’d met while waiting in line for coffee, quickly discovering that you two had mutual connections.

“Y/N…Y/N…you look…beautiful, stunning, ravishing…Have you seen Annie?”

You chuckled at how rapidly his thought process changed. “Nope, I just got here! Maybe try calling her?”

“Ha,” he let out, “I don’t…I don’t know her number…”

“But she should be in your… never mind, you’ll find her I’m sure.” you grinned, shaking your head.

“Alright, sweet!” Finnick started to walk away, but then quickly turned on his heel back to you, pointing in your direction.

“Almost forgot…Peeta’s looking for you!”

“What?”

The question was ignored as he walked away, approaching another male at the party the same way he’d approached you. Peeta was looking for you? Was he serious or just on another planet from the amount of alcohol in his system?

You kept maneuvering through the crowd, trying to locate the kitchen, knowing that’s where most of the snacks and drinks were. The kitchen also usually served as a good place to wait around if you were looking for someone.

You pulled out your phone, shooting a text to Clove to meet you in the kitchen. You stared down at the screen, hoping for a speech bubble to pop up saying she was either on her way or giving you simple directions to wherever she was located. You then felt yourself collide with someone in a way that wasn’t painful, but most definitely was going to lead to an awkward exchange.

“Oh shit…I’m so sorry…”

You were met with blonde hair and a black hoodie and then a beautiful set of oh-too-familiar blue eyes.

“Don’t be!” Peeta smiled, “I was looking for you! I sent out Finnick to look for you and everything.”

You rolled your eyes with a smirk, “Well, you might want to find someone sober enough to complete the mission next time, just saying.”

“You are probably absolutely correct…but it’s fine. Why send someone else when it’s something you can do on your own way better, right?” he smiled, leaning on the wall, taking a sip from his cup, “Do you want something to drink?”

“What is that?” you gestured to the cup, raising a curious yet somewhat fearful eyebrow.

Peeta shrugged, “I think it’s some kind of jungle juice. The base has to be Hawaiian Punch because of the color if that helps.” He extended the cup towards you, “Want to see for yourself?”

You nodded and took the cup, taking a sip. It was definitely Hawaiian Punch, and it wasn’t as strong as you thought it would be, which could either be a help or a hindrance.

“Pretty good, right?” he asked. You nodded in response, handing the cup back to him. “Do you want me to get you some of that…or I can try to mix you something myself?”

“Whatever that is, that’s fine.” you answered, following him over to a large orange Gatorade dispenser that had the word “NOT” written on a piece of tape, stuck above the label. You chuckled under your breath as you watched the blonde grab a cup, scoop out some ice, and then fill the drink. As he did this, you took the time to take in his appearance as your brain had been busy keeping up with the conversation instead of taking a good look at him.

He was in a black hoodie with a small logo on the chest; his blonde hair falling into his face a little. He also was wearing gray joggers with his university lanyard sticking out of the pocket, falling onto his leg with a pair of somewhat beaten-up sneakers. Despite his relaxed appearance, he looked put together. He looked good.

Peeta turned back to you, handing you the cup, which you took with a smile. “Do you wanna go somewhere quieter?” he asked, gesturing to the surroundings before refilling his cup.

Your stomach turned with nerves. He probably just meant to talk, but what if he didn't? You knew for a fact that your bra and underwear were not fancy, nor did they match, and you probably had the lowest body count in your friend group. You took a hard swallow.

“...To talk…” Peeta laughed, his tone sounding a little nervous as he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly and took a sip from his cup. The lights well-hid the red flush on his face.

“Oh…okay, yeah!” you laughed back, watching as he extended his hand. You took his hand, noticing how he immediately laced your fingers together as he walked you through the main hallway that you’d just walked through and up the stairs.

Someone at a distance must’ve seen you both making your way upstairs, because someone wolf-whistled and then called Peeta’s name, causing him to sharply turn over his shoulder to try and identify the person. He quickly stuck his middle finger up at no one in particular, given the culprit was never identified, and then sped up a little as you both got up to the top of the stairs.

“I'm sorry. People are dumb and make ridiculous assumptions…like I’m really not trying to…”

“Peeta, it’s okay.” you reassured him, “If Clove had seen me, she probably would’ve been ten times worse and reminded me of one of her ridiculous tips to supposedly eliminate your gag reflex that she learned on TikTok.”

Peeta somewhat choked on the sip of his drink that he was taking, laughing at your comment, “Who said you couldn’t learn something off of the internet.”

He led you down a shorter hallway to a door. He knocked twice before opening it, finding it just as he must’ve left it, as you quickly put two-and-two together that this was his room. He shut and locked the door behind him, took another sip from his drink, and sat it on his bedside table before flopping on the bed as you leaned against the wall.

You took a big sip of your drink, hoping the alcohol kicked in sooner rather than later to get some control of the nerves that were bubbling up across your entire body. You watched as the blonde turned on his side and looked over at you.

“I'm not gonna bite, sweetheart…unless you’re into that.”

You couldn’t refrain from rolling your eyes at his cheesy line before you walked over to sit your drink next to his. Then, you removed your jacket, hanging it from his footrest. Before you could even turn your attention back to him, you could feel his eyes on you. It was like he was bearing a hole into the exposed skin on your back that was left uncovered from your dress now that your denim jacket had been discarded.

When you turned back around, he rolled onto his back with his hands behind his head, smiling up at you. “You’re gorgeous.”

It was spoken so matter-of-factly as if he was telling you the most basic of observations…as if it were obvious to anyone who looked at you. You could feel your chest swell slightly at his words. Your instinct was going to be to tell him to stop or to refute what he said, but you took a breath and let out a small, “Thank you” in response as you sat on the edge of his bed and then slowly inched your way back onto the bed, laying next to him.

The room was silent, aside from the bumping music that was playing behind the door and down the stairs, and your eyes were fixed on the ceiling fan, watching it spin to avoid meeting Peeta’s eyes, fearing the burning blush that would overtake your body if you did.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked, breaking that silence.

“Nothing…” It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the full truth either. You weren’t giving your full thought process to anything. Instead, your brain was in several places at once. You’d thought about the makeup tutorial you’d seen earlier set to the song that was playing downstairs. You’d thought about how close Peeta was to you. You’d also thought about Katniss and Peeta’s study “date” from a while back too.

“Baby, if something’s bothering you, you can tell me.” he said. You finally glanced over at him. He was on his side, facing you, leaning against one hand while the other played with his hoodie string.

Baby.

Before you could stop yourself, the bigger question tumbled out of your lips, “What’s up with you?”

His features scrunched together in confusion, “What do you mean?”

“You take me on dates. You kiss me. You hold my hand. You call me baby.” you paused, “But then, I see you at the library with Katniss Everdeen and I have one of her stupid little friends in my DMs accusing me of being a homewrecker because you have your arm around me in a photo I didn’t even post…and I’ve seen you talking to other girls too, Peeta. You do the same thing, leaning against the wall, standing close to them. You’re smiling and laughing and the girl is playing with her hair and laughing back at you. What is all of that? Am I just the one you know will answer your random texts and calls to hang out…go to the club… make out in your car? Am I some weird escape from reality like…who…”

You were quickly silenced by his lips on yours, one hand coming up to your cheek, pulling you in closer to him. It was almost second nature at this point and your body quickly betrayed you despite your frustrations and melted into the kiss as it deepened, your hand coming to rest on his ribcage, progressively snaking onto his back and then upwards into his blonde locks as he moved over top of you.

The motion of him nudging your leg with his knee so he could position himself knocked you back into reality like a harsh slap to the face. You put both hands onto his chest and applied just enough pressure to jerk him back into the present as well. He looked confused. His chest was rising and falling rapidly and his lips were slightly swollen.

“Did I do something?”

You propped yourself up, causing him to move, rolling back onto his back, his arm dropping across his chest as he rather obviously tried to cool himself down. You sat up, looking down at Peeta, whose eyes met yours.

“You never answered my question.”

“Yes, I did.” He looked at you like you’d missed the most obvious sign in the universe, but you already knew he meant the kiss, and that was not the answer you were looking for.

You shook your head, “A kiss isn’t an answer. If anything, it just proves my point. I don’t understand you. You clearly, in some way, want me. So, what is it? Are you just playing the field…fucking a bunch of random girls…Are you in love with Katniss still?”

“Katniss?” Peeta looked like you’d slapped him clean across his handsome face.

“Yes, Katniss…” You repeated, glancing from him to the door, wondering if it’d just be better to get up and go home. You knew fully well that he’d follow you. There was no getting out of this.

“I get it. You’re hot. You’re nice. I genuinely don’t think you’d try to intentionally hurt anyone, but…”

“That’s it, right there.” He pointed toward you as you spoke, “You talk about me and my mixed signals…what is that? You go from basically saying I’m some piece of shit heartbreaker to saying I’d never hurt anyone. You do that a lot. You’ll go from dancing with me and kissing me…letting me hold you while you’re sleeping to acting completely disinterested in anything outside of a friendship. I’ve never dealt with anything like this before. Girls are usually pretty forward with me…regardless of whether I feel the same or not. I don’t know if it’s intentional…like you think it’ll make me want you more or what, but it’s driving me crazy. Other girls may want me...I don't know for sure, but I know for sure that I want you, not them. I’m trying my best to show you that…but you just keep pushing me away and I wish you’d stop.”

Your eyes dropped to the floor, suddenly hyper-aware of a scuff on the toe of your boots. Your heart pounded as you tried to process what he’d said. He was usually so confident and sure in his abilities to keep sucking you back in, but the wavering tones in his voice indicated otherwise. He was serious.

You turned back to him, “I…I like you a lot…a lot more than just a friend…which is why seeing you with those other girls drove me fucking insane. I want you and for you to only want me. I don’t want to just be some kind of convenience for you. I’m either your girlfriend or nothing at all.”

His lips curved into a smile as your arms crossed over your chest, waiting for a response from the blonde. Peeta sat up and moved in closer to you, his forehead resting against yours, lips inches from your own.

“As you wish, girlfriend.”

His lips were on yours as soon as the title was spoken, moving slowly and sensually. His hand came to your waist as you fell back onto the bed, pulling him down with you as you finally let him move over top of you. The kisses grew needier and more passionate as your hands moved to the hem of his hoodie, pulling it and his white undershirt over his head and allowing for him to toss them behind him.

The articles of clothing caught your jacket, bringing it to the floor as well. Your phone slid out of the pocket as it vibrated, going completely unnoticed next to the clothing.

Where are you?

Hello?

Oh my god, Cato just said he saw you going upstairs with Peeta. Good luck. ;) Remember what I told you about spelling your name. Trust me, works every single time.

#the hunger games #thg #the hunger games fanfiction #peeta mellark #peeta mellark x yn #peeta mellark x you #peeta mellark x reader #hunger games x reader #fanfiction #catching fire #mockingjay #josh hutcherson #peeta mellark imagine

664 notes · View notes

maidragoste · 5 months

Text

Chapter One: The Reaping

The Hunger Games AU

Katniss!Jacaerys x Peeta!Reader (I labeled it that even though Jace's backstory is different from Katniss's but he and Reader will be the star-crossed lovers of district 12)

Chapter Two

I really hope you like it because I'm so excited to write this au!

Please let me know what you think in the comments, as always, likes and reblogs are appreciated too 💖💖

My inbox is open so I'm always willing to read your headcanons, opinions and answer your questions.

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.

Jacaerys entered the Victors' Village, not that he was a victor. In fact, his name had never come up in the reaping. But he and his brothers lived there since his uncle Larys took care of them after his father died in the middle of an explosion in the mines while working.

The teenager quickly quickened his pace while adjusting his grip on the only two squirrels he had brought from all the ones he had hunted during the morning with Baela, his best friend. He may not have needed to hunt for food anymore but he was one of the few people in District 12 who knew how to hunt. Some people had depended on bartering with his father to bring a plate of food to his table. His father would not have wanted him to leave those people abandoned, so every day he sneaks into the forest with Baela to look for deer, rabbits, squirrels, birds, fish, or any type of edible vegetable or fruit. He always gave the best goods to Baela, after all, she had more mouths to feed with her mother, her twin sister, and her two little brothers. But the rest he exchanged with the merchants or even sometimes he practically ended up giving away his merchandise due to the low price that he was willing to accept from the families that he knew did not have enough to eat to prevent them from ending up asking for more tesserae. Uncle Larys had never told him but Jacaerys knew that he thought he was a fool for doing that.

Jacaerys hated the silence in the village but it was no surprise considering that of the twelve houses there, the only house that was being inhabited was his uncle's. Of the seventy-three Hunger Games that have been held so far, there have only been two victors from District 12 and the only one still alive is Larys Strong.

Jace hurried into the house trying to ignore the heaviness in his stomach.

“I told you Luke would throw up again this year! You owe me!” was the first thing Joffrey, his youngest brother, said when he saw him.

Lucerys, or Luke as his dad had nicknamed him, was the middle brother, and every year he had the worst time during Repairing; which was the moment when the District escort went up to the podium and then took a random piece of paper from each glass urn, one containing the names of all the boys between twelve and eighteen years old and another with the names of the girls. This was how the tributes were chosen for each Hunger Games. Like any coherent person in District 12 Luke feared being chosen as a tribute and unlike Jacaerys he could not hide his fear.

“Take this to the kitchen,” the oldest of the brothers asked, handing the squirrels to Joffrey before running to the bathroom.

When Jacaerys entered he found Luke hunched over, holding the toilet bowl. Ignoring the smell of vomit he hurried to his brother's side and with one hand began to rub soothing circles on Luke's back while the other brushed the hair from his face. He doesn't know how many minutes they stayed like this until the youngest finally stopped vomiting.

"I'm sorry, Jace" Luke apologized with a broken voice and tears on his cheeks, clearly feeling ashamed for being in the same position for another year. "I really tried."

"Hey, you have nothing to apologize for," Jacaerys denied as he helped him up from the floor. "It's okay to be afraid. Only an idiot wouldn't be afraid."

"Joffrey is not afraid," the youngest murmured after cleaning his face.

Joffrey must have been the only thirteen-year-old in District 12 who wasn't horrified at the thought of his name coming up in the Reaping. Jacaerys believed it was because Joff thought he would be able to win the games just by being a relative of a victor. Also, of the three, Joff seemed to want Uncle Larys's validation and attention the most. In these three years living with him he had never told them that he loved them but Jace thought that he should at least care a little about them because otherwise he could have let the authorities take them to the community orphanage instead of taking care of them.

"I told you, an idiot," Jace said, managing to get a small laugh out of Lucerys. "Listen, Luke. Everything will be fine. You never asked for a tessera so your name is only on four pieces of paper."

In the first year when you started to be part of the Reaping, they put your name only once in the bowl. But every time you have a birthday they add another paper with your name on it. If you do not ask for any tessera then it is assumed that you will reach the age of eighteen with only seven papers.

Jacaerys always tried to reassure his brother, and also himself, saying that the chances of his name coming up were low compared to all the people who had to ask for tesserae to be able to eat.

"Lucerys, Jacaerys, start getting ready for the Reaping" Larys ordered from below. There was no need for him to shout as the house was silent.

"Take a bath, you stink" Jacaerys mocked, ruffling Lucerys's hair before leaving him in the bathroom.

"Happy Hunger Games! and may the odds be ever in your favor!" greeted Effie Trinket, the District 12 companion, with the same excitement as in previous years.

While Effie gives a speech about what an honor it is for her to be there as a companion, Jacaerys's eyes meet Baela's. She smiles at him and he struggles to return it. Baela is so brave, he doesn't know how she isn't trembling with fear knowing that her name is at least twenty times. Maybe in recent years she was no longer asking for tesserae but before Jacaerys moved in with his uncle she had.

"Ladies first!" said Effie announcing that it was time for the drawing. She approaches the urn with the girls' names and then reaches deep inside and takes out a piece of paper. You can feel the tension in the air and for a moment everyone seems to hold their breath until Effie opens the paper and I read it "Y/n Y/l!"

Shit. Jacaerys knew you. He had seen you more than once at the bakery when he went to buy or exchange his merchandise with your father. Not only that but you two share classes together at school. You weren't friends. But you were still there for his brothers when he was too devastated by the death of his father to care about anyone else. You were the one who stopped some idiots from bothering Luke at school, you were the one who helped Joffrey with his homework to prevent him from repeating a grade, and you, in the only conversation you ever shared, reminded him that he was important to the District, that his brothers needed him, that he could not abandon them, that his father would not have wanted to see him as a ghost in life, that he would have wanted him to help the people of the District.

Jace had to go say goodbye to you, his gratitude may be three years late but he needed to thank you for taking care of his brothers when he had failed them and remind him that he had a purpose.

Jacaerys watches you move towards the stage. Your posture is straight, your chin up and your steps are firm but he can see the uncertainty in your eyes. You still look pretty in your pink dress, it wasn't glamorous at all—no one in the district wears glamorous clothes—but in his eyes, you stood out. It's probably because, unlike other girls in the district, your clothes didn't hang off and your bones didn't show, you didn't look like someone who was malnourished.

Maybe with your beauty and if you had a good interview you could get lucky and captivate a sponsor, he thought. He hoped that this year his uncle would try even harder to bring home a winner.

Once you are on stage Effie asks for volunteers. Of course, no one offers.

“Now it's time to meet our male tribute!” Effie announces, rushing to the boys' urn and pulling out the first piece of paper she sees, “Lucerys Strong!”

This must be a nightmare, Jacaerys thought. They were supposed to be safe, they had never asked for tesserae. He was snapped out of his stupor by hearing Joffrey's desperate cries calling for Luke as his brother began to walk with fear and tears in his eyes to the stage. Jace didn't even think about it, he broke out of his formation and started running after Lucerys.

“I'm a volunteer!” he shouted when the peacekeepers grabbed him, wanting to take him away from Lucerys. “I volunteered as a tribute!” he repeated, standing up straight, once they released him.

"Magnificent!" Effie exclaimed, happy because there was finally some action in the District. "But you are supposed to present the winner of the reaping first and then ask for volunteers…"

"Just let him up," the mayor interrupted her sharply, clearly upset by the situation. He knew Jacaerys because he always bought strawberries from him and Baela.

“No, Jace!” Lucerys said with a trembling voice, still shaking her head. “You can't!”

“Go to Joffrey” the eldest brother ordered firmly, he wanted to hug Luke but he was afraid that if he did he would also start crying and he couldn't do it knowing that the cameras were filming everything. He couldn't appear weak. “Go,” he repeated, pushing him aside and heading to the stage without looking back.

Jacaerys' brown eyes meet yours and the heaviness in his stomach increases. He would have to kill you if he wanted to come home, you, the person who pushed him to move forward after her father's death. He had never thanked you and much less would he do so now knowing that in a few days, he may be the one who ended up killing you. Obviously, luck was not on his side but if you died he really hoped that it would be another of the tributes who would end up taking your life. If it became him and he managed to win the games, Jacaerys was sure that there would not be a day in which he would not think of you.

"Wonderful!" Effie exclaimed once the young man finished climbing the stairs. "What's your name?"

"Jacaerys Strong," he answered.

"I'll bet my shoes he was your brother. You didn't want him to steal your glory, did you?" The companion's smile disappeared before the furious looks of the victor and the tributes. "Good! Let's give a big round of applause to our new tribute!"

But no one applauds. The entire District demonstrates its disagreement with its silence. Not only that, but many people begin to bring the three middle fingers of their left hand to their lips and then point them at Jacaerys. He looks shocked as they give him that gesture. It was not a common thing to be used in the District but every once in a while, someone would do it during funerals. It was a gesture of giving thanks, of admiration, of farewell to a loved one. The same gesture they had made at his father's funeral. Jacaerys feels a lump form in his throat. He can't help but look at you, this was thanks to you, if you hadn't reminded him that the District needed him like they needed his dad then maybe he would have continued in silence staring into nothingness, living mechanically instead of starting to help people like his dad used to do.

The mayor begins to read the Treaty of Treason. Once he finishes he instructs you and Jace to shake hands. Jacaerys notices that your hand is a little smaller than his and he feels warm against hiss. You catch him off guard when you squeeze his hand as if to encourage him. He returns the gesture even though he knows he shouldn't, it wasn't the time to become friends.

Tag: @valeskafics @agqrtz

Taglist for all my House of the Dragon works: @chaotic-fangirl-blog @venus-flytrap3 @ajordan2020 @iloveallmyboys @sweethoneyblossom1 @fudge13 @crystal-faith @tita004 @ichanelvxgue @snowprincesa1 @joyouart @rosey1981 @alastorhazbin @papichulo120627 @apollonshootafar @jasminecosmic99 @diorchaiamet @partypoison00 @camy85 @fluffly @rebelliuna @bxdbxtxh15 @impartinghades @targaryenmoony @thegirlnextdoorssister @angeliod @snh96 @aleemendoza2425-blog @lizlovecraft @natashaobo @watercolorskyy @nyenye @savagemickey03 @kishie8 @ewwwitsel @arabis-world @missusnora @nzygftoji @alisoncdariel

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If you want to be part of my taglist

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valenishere · 1 month

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Sagau Idea

I'm not that good with writing YouPoV's so there may be some odd usage of they's and thems then switching to "you"'s. this'll be stock full of typos so be warned

Mentions of injury, implied murder, blood, and implied cult

It's been a long while since I've gotten into Self-aware genshin aus, reading the fluffiest scenes to straight up gore. And theres this concept I saw about where the creator (basically, you) can make any oc come to life and help them out. (this one read it s really good. They also expanded on it go read it too its a really neat build-up on it. this one)

And as a DnD enjoyer as well... there's this idea thats been brewing in my head whenever i think back to it.

What if in Imposter!au where they're being constantly being hunted... after getting cornered in one of the nations (in the Chasm for example) they get desperate and try out an idea they don't think would work.

While resting after being in the brink of death(again) in a place Teyvat has helped you conceal, your thoughts wander. You think, why is there even a Creator? There isn't supposed to be one. That kinda concept just disrupts everything they know about the game. It's a ridiculous concept. In your delirious state, you think, "I wish that just disappears... Then i wouldn't be..."

Then you remebered the curious ability you've recently unlocked in your "adventures". The ability to create characters, with some limitations. It took you quite a bit to adjust to your newfound ability and its caveats, resulting in a few heartbreaking loss on the way.

But as a DnD player, overcoming the death of your beloved characters quickly is a mental fortitude you've developed. And it's handy that you've already made a few characters for your past sessions before landing in Teyvat. It saved you from being one-shotted right from the start.

Although now... You're down to only one left.

"... I'm so tired..."

The mental stress of being in a constant state of danger, paranoia, hunger, pain, and exhaustion have worn you down to a point where you can't even think up of more characters to make up for the one's that have recently passed. You slipped up so bad because of sleeplessness that your last capable party of characters died and a hole was speared through your gut too.

As you lay bleeding on the cold ground, with only a talking mushroom to keep you company, you wrack your brain to put together a proper character but... you really can't. You can't even think straight. Not with the recent information you've found out.

The so-called Creator is now creating their very own characters, their very own people/army, through alchemy, and is now sending them after you, thus increasing your hunters by double. And on top of the already powerful vision-holders (of course they're powerful, you made them that way), you figured... "Ah... I'm fucked..."

Knowing you might as well be as good as done now, you didn't even bother bringing out the last of your characters to heal you. It's not like healing yourself will make you forget about this lifelong trauma--

... Forget?

...

A fleeting thought.

A dumb fleeting thought. A very dumb one at that.

One that will for sure backfire in your face if you do it wrong. And quite frankly, it could spell the end for this world, even for the one they call Creator.

... But it's not like you have anything else to lose.

And so, within the dim light of the mushroom, you painstakingly start to write. Word for word, cramming everything information you know, as deatiled as you can make it into bringing it into life. A character you've never tried making before. Something that could possibly end your suffering. Or make it worse.

You honestly don't know if you're doing it right. After all, you've never tried something like it before.

"What are you making this time?' the ever so curious mushroom asked.

You grin, a manic look in your eyes. "Either my stupidest... or my brightest idea yet."

It's not long befere you finished. You gaze upon your finished product and you have to say... it's even more fleshed out than your best characters. And that quick sketch you drew... you swear those hollow eyes are following you already. That may be just the blood loss talking.

"That's... one ugly worm you've drawn..." The mushroom hums, like it can just see the monstrosity that you've created.

You chuckle breathlessly, looking almost solemn with what you're about to do. Well... it' not wrong. But...

"This is my kid. Their name is... Falseh. Get along well with them... okay?"

0===|>>>>>.

The very ground trembles as the Lord of Geo strides through the dark tunnels, a dark look in his eyes and a spear in his hand. If his presence wasn't enough, the murderous intent rolling off of him in waves is enough to deter any beasts from crossing his path.

The imposter was last seen slinking around the depths of the Chasm by one of the Tianquan's agents. Although failing to execute the imposter the first chance they got with their incompetence, Morax have to commend the Qixing for being able to find them even in the depths of the earth.

For some reason, the land seems to reject his commands from time to time now. He was baffled as to why his beloved Maker is hindering him in fulfilling his given mission but he's just been informed that the land defiance of him is due to the imposter infecting the land with their vile abilities.

Now, he's even more hellbent on making sure to drive his spear through the imposters heart and presenting it to his Grace. He won't miss a second time.

His eyes sharpens as a he a cavern just up ahead, soft blue light spilling through entrance. Tightening his grip on his spear, the power of Geo gathers in his other, ready to skewer someone five times into death if he so wishes.

He steps through the entrance and immediately lands on a figure, leaning prone under a giant glowing mushroom. He relaxes a bit. He recognizes this place. It's a bit close to the Land of Verdure, Sumeru. He needs to be careful. He can't be caught flaunting his power on another Archons domain after all.

Approaching the figure, he gets a bit surprised as they twitch, looking up to him through their hair. They try to talk, but all they can manage are quiet wheezes.

'Oh. They're still breathing. That's good.' Zhongli kneels down beside them, looking them over. They look like they've been dragged through the Abyss and back. Their midriff is bandaged heavily but it's already bled through, forming a pool of their own blood below them. He frowns lightly. It must be quite a big injury if it's bleeding this much.

Wordlessly, he holds a hand over the injury and channels his power. He's not the most profficient in healing, but he should at least be able to stop the bleeding.

Mere moments later, he have plugged up the injury and the figure is now able to stand up.

"Th-Thank you so much Rex Lapis!" they bow down. Or at least, they bow down the best they can without opening their wound. "Any longer and I would've surely perished..."

Zhongli waves them off nonchalantly as he starts to walk back out the way he came. "It's best you get back to the surface. Your injury needs to be properly tended. And I can see that..."

His eyes drifts to the scattered bloody bandages and practically empty backpack. "You've run out of supplies. It is a virtue to you mortals to know when to give up. Remember that."

"Y-Yes sir Rex Lapis sir! I'll get back right away!" they start to quickly collect their things, haphazardly stuffing the bandages and handbook into the bag, being careful of their injury.

The Lord of Geo just watches for a moment before completely leaving, trusting that they won't make any stupid mistake and go back post haste.

After he has left, you pause in your packing, leaning against the mushroom and slowly sliding down with a shaky breath.

"Y-You... didn't you say he and the entirety of the world was hunting for you?" The mushroom hums in confusion, sharing your tension. "What was that? Heck, he was the one that put a hole through you and he healed you!"

You chuckle breathlessly, the manic look intensifying in your eyes as it dawns on you that it worked. That stupid idea of yours actually worked!

And if you can get to the Creator... you can make this whole concept disappear altogether. Forever.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you see it. A large mass of hairless flesh writhing about, multiple tentacle-like appendages potruding out of it. It's slithering it's limbs about, coiling around the mushroom and and back again, and around you as well.

But when you turn your head to actually look, there's nothing there. All you can hear is what seems to be muffled humming, an eerie tune listlessly flowing through the air (but somehow, the sound is the most comforting thing ever).

"Oh it's nothing. I think... he just heard something that made him forget."

#chaotic blabbing #spreadingchaos #genshin self aware #genshin sagau #genshin impact sagau #sagau #self aware genshin #sagau impostor au #sagau brainrot #sagau x reader #genshin isekai #A Creature That Sings A Song That Makes You Forget #shi its already 2 in the morning #I wrote this half asleep so dont be surprised if it doesnt make sense #Falseh is pretty easy to figure out #hint it starts with a false and it has multiple heads that can sing #its a homebrew guy but i really like 'im y'know

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selfindulgentpixies · 20 days

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Learn to play the game for me

Aventurine x GN!reader Hunger games!AU

Wrote this for @decaydaddy's event! The idea of Aventurine being a previous victor and mentor for the hunger games hit me like a truck. It just fits him really well I feel like. I can't say i'll write more for this just because I can't say i'm fully back on the writing horse yet. I was just really taken by this idea because i really enjoyed the hunger games back when i read it. Even if i only read the first two books. It'll be clear that certain scenes really stuck in my head.

header is official promo art and divider credit goes to @kaeyaphile

A sharp rip echo’s through the room before a string of curses fall from your lips. “Fuckin mother fucki’- the hell did you you warn me first?! Why do I need this done exactly?!”

“Ah ah, language, if you’re going to get sponsors we need to play up that pretty and polite image, no one’s going to want to sponsor you if you don’t.” Your mentor chides as the stylist disposes of the first paper and wax strip now coated in hair, hair that you really didn’t think there was a point in getting rid of.

You glare at your mentor, pretty as a picture as he always is. He’d even been pretty when you were young children, even if he’d lacked the flamboyantcy and refinement he now carries himself with back then. You try to ignore it as more warm wax is painted onto your leg and keep your focus on Aventurine. “And you think a few sponsors will be enough for me to survive this thing? I’ll probably end up dead, and then i’ll just leave behind a ‘pretty’ and hairless corpse.”

Something shifts in Aventurine's eyes and he leans close to you. “You can survive this, you just need to learn how to play their game. Just like I did. Are you really ready to just give up and let yourself be chewed up and spit out?”

Something stutters in your chest both at the intensity of his gaze and at his close proximity. Rrrriiiip- the wax strip being pulled from your skin cuts off anything you could have said, though to your credit you don’t swear this time and just let out a surprised choked sound.

Aventurine steps back from you, the expensive heels of his shoes clicking on the hard floor as he turns away. “I’ll leave you to get finished being cleaned up.” He gives a little wave of his hand and walks away.

___

You stand before the full length mirror, staring at yourself draped in expensive fabric you would never have been able to imagine yourself in before. Soon you’d be sitting on a stage, selling yourself, selling the idea of you, to the sponsors who could tip the balance for you once the games begin. No. The games have already begun. Aventurine stressed that point to you, that the game began the second you were chosen as a tribute. Everything you did leading up to the fighting was just as important if not more so. You swallow thickly, your thoughts race, you weren’t cut out for this but who was? Maybe those brats in the more well to do districts. Not you though. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to keep your breathing in check.

Suddenly there are hands on your arms, squeezing lightly. Your eyes snap open, only to be met with your mentor’s in the mirror. Finally alone with him you can see concern there. “That’s right, come back to me, just breathe.”

His words make your heart stutter but you do as he says, he breathes deeply and you mimic the action. Time stretches on forever with you mimicking his breathing until he seems satisfied. “There you are,” there’s a hint of a smile on his lips now. His hands smooth over the fabric he’d wrinkled while gripping your arms. “I know none of this is fair, but I’ll do everything I can to give you every advantage I can in order to even the odds.” His voice is serious, quiet, you might not even be able to hear him if not for how his lips are pressed to your ear.

“Aven…” before you can fully say his name he continues.

“All I ask is that you fight like hell. Both on stage and in the arena. Don’t throw the game because you’re scared.” His eyes are intense, so much so that you try to glance away from his reflection in the mirror only for him to turn you toward him.

He holds your gaze until you give him a firm nod. “Good.” He rests his forehead against yours for a moment and you feel your cheeks heat, your heart racing for an entirely new reason by the time he pulls away and steps back from you. Suddenly your hands shoot out to grab at his arms startling you both.

“I-i..” A deep breath. “How… Did you manage it? You were a lot younger than I am now when you won.” Despite being your mentor Aventurine has actually spoken very little about his own games. He’s dodged most direct questions both by you and the other tribute.

“I got lucky.” He lets out a dry chuckle when your face contorts.

“That’s a terrible answer and doesn’t help me.”

“Ah ah but is it not in line with what they say about these games? ‘May the odds be ever in your favor.’?” there’s a hint of something pained in his voice.

“Aventurine, please, is that really all you’re going to tell me…?”

He removes your hands from his arms before reaching up to cup your face. You feel the warmth of his hands seep through his gloves to your skin contrasted harshly against the cool metal of his rings. “Tell you what, you win and then i’ll tell you everything.”

“But-”

“That doesn’t help you win? Consider it a little extra motivation.”

Before you can protest he steps away from you and turns to head toward the door with a little wave. “It’s almost time for your interview~” With his back to you can’t see that sadness in his expression. He’s not ready to talk about her with you yet, his older sister who’d given her all and made it possible for him to be standing here now. He can’t share that pain with someone who could be dead tomorrow.

—

Very few could ever claim to know what’s going on in Aventurine’s head, and you certainly don’t count yourself among them. So when your interview concludes and you’re just barely off stage and he takes your hand, mouthing the words ‘trust me’ then without a moment for you to process he pulls you to him, his lips crashing with yours. Your sound of surprise is swallowed up by him as he deepens the kiss, your hands flying up to grip the fabric of his expensive jacket. You almost don’t register the gasps and murmurs of the crowd. You may not see it but this moment with your mentor is broadcasted on the large screens as he walks you back a step further into view. The way he kisses you and his tender embrace plain for everyone to see.

Everything feels like whirlwind from there, granted everything since being chosen as tribute has felt that way, but this? The news of you apparently having a love affair with your mentor is everywhere. Headlines of how a pair of lovers are being forced apart and how one must watch the person he loves endure the same trials he once had to survive are abuzz. “Was that seriously necessary?!” Your face is heated and you can’t decide if you feel more embarrassed or angry as you stare at Aventurine perched on the love seat in your temporary accommodations. Shameless with legs spread and a knowing smirk on his lips.

“It makes for a good story. Everyone loves a tragic love story.” He gives a small shrug.

“Why didn’t you ask me first!?”

He raises one elegant brow. “Would you have agreed?”

“No!?”

“And that’s why i didn’t ask. This is another way i can help you and make you more appealing to the audience. Besides… You didn’t seem to mind while I was kissing you.”

“That’s-!” Your stomach twists and you feel your face heat further if possible.

He puts his hands on his knees before standing and walking toward you, when he’s about to pass you he speaks again, looking at you from the corner of his eye. “If it helps, I meant it. The kiss, I mean.”

Your world slows. “You- you don’t get to just say things like that and walk away!” You follow hot on his heels as he begins to head for the door. You grab at his expensive jacket once again, the poor fabric seemingly doomed to your abuse, and turn Aventurine to face you. His expression surprises you, all traces of smugness gone. You swallow thickly. “You can’t play games with my feelings at a time like this…” Your fire seems to fizzle out further with each moment you look at him.

“I’m not… I wouldn’t be putting so much work into giving you the best chance possible if I was.”

“But… why now? After all this time.. After you were in the games when we were little I never heard from you again and suddenly now that you’re my mentor you’re telling me what? That you lo-” a deep breath.

“And if I am?”

“I don’t know… But i have missed you.”

“That’s why you wanted me as your mentor isn’t it? I know you asked for me specifically.”

“Is it why you accepted?”

You meet eachother eyes and suddenly share a small moment of quiet laughter.

“You’re impossible, you know that right? And don’t think I’m not still mad at you.”

“Win the games and I’ll make it up to you.” And he sounds so sure when he says it that a small part of you believes you could win, if not for yourself perhaps for him. Perhaps for the two of you.

The next day, standing on the platform waiting for it to rise to the arena you feel your resolve solidify. He stands in front of you and rests his forehead against yours. “May the odds be ever in your favor.” spoken for you only before he steps back, allowing the platform to rise to take you to the surface, away from him and he hopes it’s not for the last time. By the resolve in your eyes as you get further and further from him he can believe you have a chance, and that’s all you need to win a game like this.

I hope you guys liked it! Aventurine has taken over my brain lately. I've actually written a couple other things but I just haven't polished them. This idea forced me to sit down and write it.

Tag list: @scarabrat-archived @pastelle-rabbit @fushigurro @zorosdimples @bad-as-the-boys @likelilacwine @kweenkatsuki-fics

#aventurine x reader #aventurine x you #aventurine x gn!reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x gender neutral reader #rossi writes

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atelierlili · 1 month

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In-Panem/Not Reaped Everlark AUs

Got asked to give some fanfic recommendations for In-Panem/Not Reaped Everlark AUs so here we are. Most of them (if not all of them) are gonna be fluffy and happy tbh because i can't take my pookies being hurt ):

Completed:

A New Path (138k words) by Endlessnightlock

The day after aging out of the Reaping, Katniss crosses paths with Peeta. She thanks him for the bread and to her surprise, a tentative friendship begins.

One of my favourites. I love the direction the author took with this story. Always made me want more!

Go Slow, Peeta (20k words) by Oakfarmer

The era of the Hunger Games has come to an end. How Everlark slowly happened anyway.

This was the one that started it all for me. Short, simple and to the point! A classic in my opinion.

Nothing Owed for a Gift (10k words) by orphaned account

Lately, Merchants have taken to flirting with unwitting Seam folk as a joke, sometimes going so far as to ask them out on a date. I've even heard of a couple instances of a Merchant asking someone from the Seam to marry them, and then laughing hysterically when the poor recipient says 'yes'. So, when Peeta Mellark approaches me after the reaping, red with nerves and pushing his lips together as if he's trying very hard not to do something like laugh, I'm immediately wary. Peeta can't possibly be asking me to marry him for real. ... right?

Urgh. Literally one of my favourite one-shots.

Inevitability (44k words) by Xerxia

What if? What if Peeta and Prim hadn't been reaped?

Definitely not the fluffiest fics in the list, but Katniss absolutely SHINES here. And Peeta stays very true to his character as well. Absolutely worth the read.

It Takes A District (55k words) by MTK4FUN

Thinking her mother is dying, Katniss Everdeen marries Peeta Mellark to keep her sister out of the Community Home.

I love this fic. I don't know what it is, but there's something about it that makes it standout on its own.

Katniss Everdeen Is Not A Stalker (241k words) by MegaAuLover

Katniss as a little problem, she can't stop looking through Peeta's window, trying to find a way to pay her boy with the bread back but as time goes on she realizes she wants more. But there is a problem the District is flooded with Peacekeepers and everyone faces danger as the Capitol tightens its reigns on the district. Can love bloom in the middle of adversity? Or will it shrivel in the face of surmounting danger?

This is the one. Easily one of the bestest AUs imo. Very long read- but I will be naming my first born after the squirrel. The Everlark relationship here is A+++.

Incomplete/Ongoing:

( I know its weird to recommend incomplete fics, some these ones are legitimately my favourite fics and think are still worth the read.)

Cavedweller (79k words) by Jennajuicebox (last update: 2021-01-25)

Her mother once told her she was brave. A word Katniss wouldn't have chosen for herself. Brave implies that you run headlong into the scary unknown. Brave implies you face the things that want you dead. It dredges up thoughts of conquering armies and swords raised over head. Katniss isn't brave. As much as she would never admit it to herself she is scared out of her wits. She is staring into a gaping chasm, waiting for it to swallow her whole.

I love AUs that explore Katniss otherside of the family so much. As always, the Everlark development here is absolutely heartwarming and delicious. 10/10

On the Threshold ( 97k words) by ghtlovesthg (last update: 2020-06-26)

Nineteen and free from the Reapings forever, Katniss finds a token on her doorstep commemorating her passage over the threshold of adulthood. Discovering the identity of the sender will start Katniss on a road that leads toward life's other milestones.

This is exactly how I envisioned Everlark would get together had it not been for the Reapings. So so so so good. There is just enough here to be satisfied that the fic is unfinished ; w;

hope you find something you like! I always have more if you want more to sink your teeth into <3 Happy readings!

@heartforeyes @the-tiny-fangirl

#everlark #the hunger games #thg #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #everlark fanfiction #fanfiction recommendation #these are just a few I have sitting around in my bookmarks.#I know I have a few that I haven't added because I forgot ;Q:

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kanzakurawrites · 5 months

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I read the first Hunger Games book for the first time (yeah, I know I know) and now all I can imagine is a Descendants Au of it.

Like, the villains keep having children, and the children are having children. The isle of so overpopulated, very quickly, and the only solution that the villains think of is making a group of children fight to death each year. This is eight years into the Isle. The goblins row the kids out to the Isle of Doom, and go back at the end of each week. Some are done in that first week, the longest went two months.

The first few times the kids tried not to, they are kids, but then the adults just killed them all.

Unlike the Hunger Games, they allow one male and one female to come out alive (this proves their worth, and their children could be "strong". Remember, these are villains trying to get off the Isle)

Jay ends up in three times, he comes out each of them just a little more haunted.

Mal goes in at ten, she comes out without her wings and half dead. Gil was in that year, and he saved her life. (He found out about her dad, because Mal's flames showed themselves and she survived too many attempts on her life. He becomes a shadow to her, and not even Uma's wrath will make him stop)

Evie ends up in there at 15, going in Dizzy's place. It was the quickest game the Isle ever had. She poisoned the remaining food and water, and thanks to her mother, she was able to go without it while waiting.

Uma and Harry were in together. Uma was 11, and Harry was 12. Ever since they've been inseparable, but they don't talk about what happened in there.

Carlos is a lucky one. His cousin Ivy took his place, and she burned the Isle of Doom to the ground. She's one of the few never allowed back there, as the next year's games weren't as entertaining for the oldest villains. (But that's the year they found out there's just a smidge of magic on the isle, because the few trees that were there grew back)

Many VK's try to disappear to avoid the games. Some live under the Isle in the tunnels, which has driven a couple mad.

And yet Auradon doesn't realize what is happening - or they just don't care.

#disney descendants #descendants au #idk why my mind came up with this #but it fits #mal bertha #evie daughter of the evil queen #jay son of jafar #carlos de vil #uma daughter of ursula #harry hook #gil legume

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beingsuneone · 4 months

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Sunset & Vine

PART ONE | PART TWO

SYNOPSIS: one year was all you had, and the winners of the previous hunger games. You didn’t know them that well, but they were still youre only friends. Now you’re thrown back into the Games with some new confusing feelings.

FANDOM: The Hunger Games

PAIRING(S): Peeta Mallark x Victor!Reader

RATING: G

CHARACTERS MENTIONED: Peeta Mellark, Katniss Everdeen, Haymitch Abernathy, Coriolanus Snow, Johanna Mason, Finnick Odair, Effie Trinket, President Coin, Gale Hawthorne

GENRE/AU: Dystopia, Angst, a very small amount of comfort,

WORD COUNT: 5.2k

WARNINGS: Katniss is slightly OOC, Canon divergent in some ways but not others, CATCHING FIRE AND MOCKINGJAY SPOILERS, Reader won the 74th hunger games and Peeta and Katniss won the 73rd.

A/N: Jjj, I’ve really got to stop writing stories with ending like this. Lemme know if you want part two. FYI!!! Changed a few words that completely changed the context and set up for the next part.

DEDICATIONS: Peeta my beloved

CREDITS: Taylor Swift for the name (Gorgeous - Taylor Swift)

It’s a woman, standing with her back to you— she has similar hair to yours and an almost protective stance to her. A haze of colour surrounds her… oranges, purples and yellows swirled into an indescribable but beautiful mess.

Peeta Mellark may be a fellow victor, and he may be one of your neighbours, but you know nothing about him. Except for this beautiful painting that he gifted you.

She wears a dress that flows in some sort of assumed breeze, and has a hand tentatively braced in her hair; there’s something so familiar about this scene that you can’t place— something familiar about the woman in particular.

You can’t place it.

You run your fingers along the small note that Peeta had left with the painting, hovering over the loopy cursive of his signature; it’s the same on the painting but it’s too beautiful to touch like that.

Last year, you won the seventy-fourth annual hunger games, and became a legend for getting district twelve two wins in a row— right alongside Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark, Who won the seventy-third hunger games.

Thank god the months of parading you around were over and you could settle happily into your gigantic house by yourself.

Well, happily might be an over statement— you had no family, and certainly no friends… unless Haymitch counts but you don’t think he does.

So this painting feels extra special— a warmth in an otherwise cold and unfamiliar home.

“Where should I put it?” Muttering to yourself, you mentally scan the layout of your house; you’d want it to be in a place where you could see it often, but also somewhere where any house guest would be able to see it… yeah. House guests.

After shaking your head uselessly, you settle on hanging it in the entryway. For sure people would see it there.

You’d been putting off doing this for a couple of days, just because you hadn’t had a whole lot of energy to do anything but sit in a chair and half-read a novel.

So, after a few minutes of fiddling and messy calculations, the painting is hung in the entryway.

You take one last glance at the swirling coloured background once more, and then turn away, leaving the comfort and fantasy behind.

……

Victors are supposed to have immunity, they’re supposed to be done with the games for the rest of their miserable, trauma ridden lives.

But the seventy-fifth hunger games brings back all of the worst parts of last year— you know that out of the three other victors, you’re the female they want to get picked. You’re the easy decision, the loner that nobody cares about.

You know the Capitol loves Peeta and Katniss far too much, and you, not enough.

This, stacked on top of everything else the Capitol has put you through… it’s too much.

You’re pulled from your thoughts when there’s a knock at your door.

“Hello?” You say as you open it; Peeta Mellark is standing there with his lip turned down just slightly, his eyes center behind you for a moment before his face softens and lightens.

“Hey. You got the painting.” A smile melts onto his face, and you swear he looks… beyond words when he smiles.

After a long moment of silence, you clear your throat. “What brings you here…?” You stammer awkwardly, cringing at your choice of words.

He sort of— laughs? Chuckles? at you. “We’re talking strategy for the Quarter Quell and we figured we should include you.” His face falls again, and he looks like he’s holding something back.

Your back straightens. “The Quarter Quell isn’t for another few months—”

He nods slowly. “But we’re going to have to do the pre-tour… and they’re pulling names in just a couple weeks.”

The band around his ring finger gleams brightly in the sun, which sends some sort of jealous feeling rolling through you.

You shake your head because you don’t know Peeta Mellark, and, even if he is gorgeous, you don’t get crushes on people you don’t know.

Plus he’s in love and engaged to Katniss Everdeen, even if you did know him well enough to develop a crush.

He glances down, and then quickly yanks the ring off. “It’s, uh— just for the camera’s.” Then he gestures to the painting behind you. “That’s you, you know. I know you’ve never worn a dress like that, but I saw a screencap of you in The Games and inspiration just kind of… hit me.” he trails off at the end and fiddles with the ring in his hand.

“It’s… me?” You say slowly. “We barely know each other, why would you paint me?”

He takes a small breath. “You’re really beautiful, Y/n, I’ve always thought so.”

A breath hitches but you genuinely can’t discern if it’s him or you over the roaring of blood in your ears.

“So…” he starts again. “If you want to join us, we’re heading over to Haymitch’s now.”

“Okay.” You say, sounding more winded than you did before; you stare at him for a few more moments before you step out of the front door and shut it.

You walk silently beside him, trying not to take in his messy blonde hair or pretty blue eyes—and also, failing miserably—

Just as you reach Haymitch’s doorstep, you stop and tug on Peeta’s sleeve to get his attention. “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, Peeta.”

He looks down at you, the air around you charged with some kind of something that you can’t name, and just as he’s about to reach over to you, the door swings open.

“Why are you guys just standing out here?” Katniss says with her nose scrunched, she eyes you up and then eyes Peeta up in a similar fashion.

At least it wasn’t exclusively you.

Both your heads snap toward her, while Peeta smoothly comes up with a reason. “Y/n was feeling nervous, I was just trying to help calm her nerves.”

Haymitch raises an eyebrow from behind Katniss, and gives Peeta a look.

“Hey, Sweetheart.” He says, as Katniss steps aside and lets the two of you in. There’s a tenderness to his voice that you hadn’t realized you missed so much.

“Hi.” The three of you shuffle into what you think was once a living room but it’s chillingly messy in Haymitch’s house.

“Couldn’t we have done this at someone else’s house?” Peeta says, eying the empty bottles on the floor.

“No.” Katniss shakes her head, shooting Haymitch a glare. “Because everytime we have to talk to him, we have to wake him up with a bucket of water.”

You snort. “I’m sorry— a bucket of water?”

Haymitch cuts in. “Why do you think my hair’s wet? I definitely didn’t take a shower.” There's a water stain that makes his shirt sag, and you wonder how you didn’t notice before. Haymitch clears his throat. “Moving on; if it’s Katniss and Peeta then we can still milk the whole star-crossed lover thing— if it’s me or Y/n… that won’t work.”

“Y/n shouldn’t go.” Peeta interjects; you’re taken aback by it.

You fidget with the hem of your shirt. “I really thought I was the best person to go.” You pause, looking up at the three of them. “It’s not like there’s anyone here that will care if I don’t come home.”

Haymitch gives Peeta a scrutinizing look. “Look, Lover-boy, we know you have a crush but that isn’t enough for Katniss to volunteer herself if Y/n gets picked.”

Peeta looks to you and then back to Haymitch. “Katniss and I are the Capitol’s favourite couple right now, if we went we’d probably be much better off in terms of sponsors and parachutes.”

“And you don’t want her to go.” Haymitch gestures in yours and Katniss’s direction.

Peeta sighs but doesn’t deny it. It makes sense that he wouldn’t want his fiancé to go back to the Games.

“Peeta is right,” Katniss starts, “but, Haymitch, if you get picked… Peeta should stay. Either way.”

Peeta shakes his head. “No. I’m not staying.”

You cut in. “There’s no good reason why I should stay.” You’re basically the only clear answer; if you get picked you’ll go, and, if Katniss is picked, you’ll go. “I won’t.”

Now all three of them are staring at you. “If I get picked, Katniss can’t volunteer and if she gets picked, you can’t stop me from volunteering.”

Katniss huffs. “You can’t stop me from volunteering either.”

Really, you could all argue this for hours.

…..

The four of you had never come to a conclusion, and now it’s the day of the Reaping.

Effie stands uncomfortably at the bowl; she doesn’t seem happy about having to pull your names, despite her chipper facade.

“The female tribute for District Twelve is…” she says, digging around in the two slips of paper in the bowl. She finally pulls one out and reluctantly reads it out. “Y/n L/n.” She almost sighs your name.

Katniss’s fingers twitch nervously, like she wants to say something but you shoot her the strongest glare you can muster.

She doesn’t volunteer, and you’re glad for it.

You walk up to the stage, head held high; you know this is the start of the end of your life, so you might as well act more confident than you truly are.

Effie looks at you sadly once you’re settled behind her, and then turns back to the audience. “And… the male tribute for District Twelve is,” she spends another five minutes routing through the two names. “Haymitch Abernathy.” This time her sigh is one of relief.

But the relief does not last long.

“I volunteer!” Peeta says, stepping forward; Haymitch grabs his arm and says something too quiet to hear, and Peeta says something back. His face is full of determination as everyone watches him walk up the stage and stand next to you.

Everyone in your little group wears a look of defeat. Even you.

Only one of you can go home, and you’re going to do your damn best to make sure it’s Peeta Mellark.

…..

“I’m not ready for this.” You say quietly, as you walk down the corridor to your bedrooms on the train. “It’s hardly been a year, Peeta.”

He nods solemnly, not looking at you as you arrive at your door. His is just across the hall.

Peeta gently takes your hand in his and squeezes. “I know. It’s too soon.” He looks angry. “We were never supposed to have to do this again.” He drops your hand before you can reciprocate in any sort of way.

You do feel a little less nauseous though.

“It‘s okay.” You whisper, twitching your fingers and slapping it onto the doorknob. “It’ll be okay.”

Peeta’s eyes rove over you in a scrutinizing manner as though he’s trying to figure some meaning behind your words, but there isn’t one to figure.

Just that it will be okay. Peeta will, if you really just be specific. Peeta will return home, happy and safe.

Ready to live his life with the woman he loves… Katniss.

And you will fade into false glory and distant memory.

…..

“Finnick, Right?” You fidget with your fingers in front of you; Finnick Odair was an attractive man who oozed with confidence and smooth words.

“Want a sugar cube?” He asks slyly, holding one out to you. “They're supposed to be for the horses but— we’re going to die anyway, it won’t matter after that.”

You nod carefully. “Of course, because that would obviously matter if we weren’t already set for death.” You still take the sugar cube from his hand and pop it in your mouth.

You almost gag from it. Pure sugar was… a lot. “Ugh. That’s disgusting.”

Finnick chuckles. “But liberating.”

You shake your head but a smile still spreads across your face. “Liberating indeed, Finnick Odair. My last act of rebellion is eating a sugar cube.”

“Devastating, really. To the Capitol, I mean.” He smiles easily at you, before someone catches his attention and he saunters off.

Claudius Templesmith stood not far from you, crooning about something with one of the older tributes.

The older man— Betee, you think— stood, looking indifferent but also invested in Claudius’s ramblings and unnecessary questions.

You were dreading the questions he’d ask you during your second round of interviews.

The last time was time enough for you.

“What’d he want?” Peeta asks, walking up behind you and pulling your attention away from the other party-goers.

“Oh, you know,” you say flippantly, “sugarcubes, secrets, and sarcasm.”

Peeta’s eyebrows furrow in confusion but the smile remains on his face. “Sounds like an interesting conversation.” He extends his arm to you. “Shall we?”

You sigh. “Not like we have much choice.”

….

“I’d give anything to know what’s going on inside your head.” Peeta says softly, fidgeting with the rope in his hands. You’d both decided that learning how to tie some knots would be beneficial.

You chuff, an awkward laugh. “What do you mean?”

His fingers work steadily, and somewhat clumsily, with the rope; there’s something alluring about how sure he can be with his hands.

It makes you think of the painting in your house— the one that you’ll never see again— how patient he must’ve been to complete such a beautiful piece, how still and sure of himself.

“What are you thinking right now, Y/n?” He looks up at you, with those beautiful blue eyes of his.

You shrug. “I was thinking about…” you trail off, because you absolutely cannot say that you were thinking about his hands. A half-truth will have to do. “Your painting. How I’ll never see it again.”

Hip lips pull into a frown. “You’ll see it again, I’m going to make sure of it.”

Sighing deeply, you stand. “You’re the one who has to go home, Peeta, not me.” He opens his mouth to speak but you cut him off. “It has to be you.”

….

You don’t have the time to argue about it for the next couple of days, you hardly even see each other.

Now, Cinna is preparing you for the arena. You know that everything he gave was meant for Katniss, he had obviously expected it to be her, or that he wouldn’t style you.

He hadn’t been your stylist, but yours had opted out of this year’s games, claiming it was too painful to watch you go back in.

You hadn’t liked her much the first time around, wanted to change you too much in ways that you most definitely did not like.

Cinna, though, you liked him. Though this would be the last time you saw him.

You were dressed in whatever mandatory suit that they designed for this game, a skin tight suit that looked like you were about to go scuba diving.

“It’s time.” Cinna says, glancing back to the tube at the back of the room. You turn back to it.

“Thank you, Cinna.” You say, bowing your head for him. “It was nice getting to know you.”

He smiles half-heartedly. “It was a pleasure, Y/n.”

You exchange a final goodbye and step into the tube. The sixth second countdown begins as the tube starts to ascend.

It's all water, just water and water and water in a large circle around them. There was also thin sand bars that connected the tubes and the Cornucopia, but you knew you wouldn’t be braving that.

Peeta stands three tubes down, with a morphling, a Career and Johanna between you two.

Twenty seconds.

You stare at him desperately, hoping he’ll stick to the plan and swim towards you; you catch his eyes and he smiles reassuringly. It’s not a genuine smile but it still calms you all the same.

Ten seconds.

You ball your fists, clenching hard.

Nine.

Eight.

God, it’s going to be difficult to get out of the water.

Seven.

Six.

You’re not the strongest swimmer, maybe you should go to the Cornucopia.

Five.

Four.

And it’s a long way to swim, even for someone who does know how. Only experienced swimmers, like Finnick, would have an easy time of it.

Three.

Two.

Then, it occurs to you, maybe those sandbars go all the way to the shore; if you get to the Cornucopia, Grab, well, anything, and then flee via the sandbars, you just might be okay.

One.

The pads everyone stands on recede into the water and dumps everyone straight in.

It makes you realize that most of your competitors do not know how to swim.

Peeta is just barely floating thanks to the bright purple belt that had been strapped around all your waists.

You know how to swim at least a little bit , so you unbuckle yours and swim over to him; once it inflates fully, you give it to him and try to drag him towards the sandbars.

It dawns on you all over again that Peeta is a tall guy, and he’s not exactly small either.

He’s strong and his weight definitely shows that; he tries to keep himself afloat but ends up making it worse.

Eventually, you make it over there, and he pulls himself up onto the loose sand; it takes a bit of effort because it’s slippery and keeps moving under your weight.

It’s barely stable enough to be a viable option. Just barely.

You leave him there for a minute and swim to the cornucopia. There's fighting going on on its small platform, but you just snag a small waterproof bag that sits a few yards away; a knife comes flying in your direction, and knicks your face.

The salt of the water stings as it mingles with blood.

When you spin back towards Peeta, he’s struggling and Finnick is approaching him.

You race back as fast as you can.

Finnick already has some pretty gnarly weapons strapped to him.

You’re about to draw the knife on him when shakes his head. “Relax, Y/n, I’m saving his ass.” Then he lifts a hand out of the water and flashes some sort of bracelet at you.

It’s the alliance bracelets that Haymitch had mentioned.

Oh.

“I-”you start, but you never really had a sentence to begin with.

You just lag silently behind as Finnick helps Peeta to the shore. The closer you get to the shore, the wider the sandbars get, and the sturdier they are as well.

Until they're eventually higher than the water, and wide enough for both Peeta and yourself to walk side by side.

You collapse onto the sand when you finally reach the shore and stay there for only a second.

That’s all you have before the three of you are up and running into the forest in front of you.

….

When Peeta’s heart stops, you're sure that yours does too— you’re sure that, as you stand there in a state while Finnick tries to resuscitate Peeta, you’re also unresponsive and silent. Dead.

True enough, in a way.

The longer you stare at Peeta’s face, still twisted in pain from the shock, the more you feel like dropping to the ground and sobbing.

You tried to imagine the way he painted with camouflage training stuff, drawing intricate designs onto both his and one of the morhpling’s arms.

It had washed off by the next morning but you had spent the whole night longing to touch it, run your fingers along his arm, trace the shapes and swirls.

Beyond the paintings, you recalled his magnetic smile and the way he always made you feel safe and calm, the steady air that he radiated.

You weren’t ready for him to die, he was the one who was supposed to win this, after all. You had resolved that Peeta Mellark was going to be the winner of the 75th Hunger Games and you were going to do whatever you needed to to make that happen. You were even prepared to turn into somebody you weren’t, just to make sure Peeta went home. Or at least, you thought you could if you had to come to it.

But now, you’re ready to give up. Finnick or Johanna could win— and they should. Literally anyone else but you. Everyone who had a life now that Peeta is gone.

You’re just about to collapse to the ground when Peeta starts to cough erratically, and he manages to sit straight up.

“Peeta!” You cry as you fall to the ground next to him, and wrap your arms around his neck. He seems disoriented for a moment before he hugs you back, right. “I really thought you were gone.”

He gently strokes your back, as you fuss over him, double checking that he’s okay and checking his burn.

…..

You hear a loud sickening crack from somewhere else in the arena that makes everyone but Johanna and Finnick jump. You feel Peeta’s hand wrap around you protectively and pull you closer to him in the single instant that you’re all reacting to the noise.

It takes a few delayed seconds before each one of you realizes that it’s just the lightning in 12, before you realize just how having Peeta’s hands on you makes you feel.

His fingers slip from your waist, brushing softly as they fall away and leaving you feeling just slightly feral.

You pull yourself away, and dig your nails into your thigh to ground yourself. Getting used to this clock thing was going to be agonizing.

You’re waiting patiently as the lot of you— You, Peeta, Finnick, Johanna and Beetee— come up with a plan to take down the force field and take out the Careers at the same time.

You can barely focus on the conversation because you itch to have Peeta’s hands on you again, to feel his fingers against your skin again.

In fact there’s so many things you’d like to say and do with Peeta that you know you will never have the chance to; not to mention that he is in love with someone else and would never be interested in any of those things with you anyways.

You’re pretty sure you’d been staring at Peeta but you only notice because Finnick shoots a look at you— you can’t tell exactly what he’s thinking but it must be something about that.

You try to zone back into the plan.

….

Trying to trap the careers failed miserably, and the person most experienced with a bow was you, but only thanks to Katniss’s training.

Everything was a blur as the force field came down; chaos, fire everywhere— you couldn’t see or hear Peeta.

You worried about him and you laid pathetically on the ground, half out of your mind. You wondered if he was having trouble with his prosthetic leg, or having run from Enobaria or one of the other careers. You wondered if he’d make it out okay, even though it was obvious you wouldn’t.

You wondered and worried for what felt like forever until an airship appeared above you.

Great. You thought, the Capitol has come to torture you and everyone you’ve ever loved until the couldnt anymore and all of you was nothing more than a shell of a person. Until the only option was avox or death.

You can’t move, or fight it as the giant claw, scoops you up.

All that effort and you still managed to condem each and everyone of you to torture.

…..

“Relax, Y/n!” Haymitch snaps, as Finnick restrains you.

Katniss sits on the other side of the table, looking just as devastated as you.

“What do you mean, you didn’t get Peeta? You can’t just leave him there, they’ll hurt him worse than any of us could ever imagine!” You say, still struggling to get away from Finnick.

Katniss actually argues in your favour. “I did say I would only do this thing if you got both her and Peeta.”

Plutarch, the game maker shakes his head redundantly. “Peeta and Johanna were just to far away for us to locate before the Capitols airships came; I’m sorry, we’ll get them back eventually.”

Finnick finally lets you go once you’ve calmed down. He has a solemn look on his face. “I’m sure they’ve got Annie too. We need to save them as soon as possible.”

….

As soon as possible turns into several weeks, several heartbreakingly, agonizingly long weeks.

You can’t help but think about Peeta every moment of every day . You imagine all the terrible things Snow is doing to him, you wish it was you in his place.

Peeta was the one person who never deserved any of this, over anyone else. You and Katniss had been willing to do whatever you needed to to survive, you’d done things maybe you weren’t particularly proud of. But Peeta? He had never let the Games change him.

He had always been the same.

Safe, steady, comfortable, strong.

You don’t even have any hope that they’re showing him any mercy.

They aren’t.

You know now, you know by the way that last interview they aired went— how he was struck just as the cameras shut off, how your heart broke when you looked into his eyes, when you saw just how much they’d hurt him already.

You were just about ready to burst into Coin’s office and tell her that you were getting Peeta now, regardless of the consequences to Thirteen.

Gale and Katniss were fighting a lot lately, tension was heavy between them; and not in a good way. You didn’t know Gale well, but the comments he made about Peeta made your skin crawl and your hands itch to throw a few punches.

Actually they were arguing now, about Peeta, and you were listening.

Gale’s head snaps to you randomly and he barks at you; “and you! Why the hell are you so invested in Bread Boy?”

You startle for a moment, but then narrow your eyes. “What do you mean why am I invested? He’s my— friend.” You say, sounding unsure even to yourself.

Katniss huffs. “I mean, come on, Gale, you know that our relationship has been fake from the start and we—” she gestures between the two of them. “—we’re friends, Gale, we always have been.”

He scoffs, and says something else in a bitter tone but all you can hear is Katniss’s words replaying over and over in your brain.

Our relationship has been fake from the start.

“Shut up for a second!” You snap at Gale, and turn back to Katniss. “Your relationship was fake the whole time? Yours and Peeta’?” You almost feel like an asshole for asking, just in case it is real; but so many things Peeta has done and said make so much more sense recontextualized like this.

Like when he said their rings were ‘just for ten cameras.’ Or when he told you he always thought you were beautiful. Or even the way he tried so hard to convince not to go back into the games.

Both of their faces fall flat, Katniss’s in disbelief. “You didn’t know?” She says.

You shake your head slowly. “No, I-” you stop yourself because you're at a loss for words.

“Y/n, we didn’t try to hide it from you, how did you not know? Even Haymitch said right in front of you that Peeta had a crush on you!”

You deadpan once again. You had blatantly misread everybody’s words in that conversation. “I just assumed that was about you!” You stare at each other for a second longer before you stand up abruptly. “I have to go.”

There was a lot of thinking you had to do and then a lot of planning— and a bit of yelling too.

…..

You were deemed too invested in the mission to actually go on it, and Finnick was too distressed over Annie to be allowed.

So you had been sitting together in silence; the silence was comfortable but the insane amounts of stress running through your veins was enough to make the tension in the air as sharp as a knife. Not between each other but to any other person.

Especially since Gale was allowed to go on the mission, and you felt that was entirely unfair— Gale doesn’t even like Peeta.

It had turned into a whole day of waiting, and only twenty minutes ago, they had returned with Johanna, Peeta and Annie.

The anxiety had grown tenfold when you were both informed you weren’t allowed to see them yet.

Now, you’re standing outside the door where Annie was resting, watching her through the one way window.

Finnick’s eyes are filled with so many you can only pick out one or two; you wonder if your eyes will look similar when you enter Peeta’s room.

You wish him luck and watch as he enters the room; Annie looks like she screams his name and then jumps him. He holds her up, looking like it’s the happiest moment of his life.

Watching them makes you much more excited to see Peeta, although you're not sure it will be quite that exuberant of a reunion.

You walk a couple doors down, glancing in the windows as you do; but you stop when you see Katniss and Johanna in one of the rooms before Peeta’s.

Why in the world is Katniss in the Hospital? What happened?

You push open the door gently, and Katniss doesn’t stir— you take note of the morphling drip in her arm, that must be keeping her knocked out.

You see Johanna is also asleep, her head is shaved and she has the worst tortured expression on, even though she looks to be sleeping soundfully— physically, anyways.

If she’s looking that bad, you can’t help but wonder about Peeta. You’re always wondering about him.

You don’t want to disturb either of their healing so you quickly leave the room, shutting the door as quietly and calmly as you can.

Finally, as you walk out, you spot the guards in front of Peeta’s door; you think it’s a little strange, considering neither Johanna nor Annie had security at the door but you walk towards the door anyways.

The guards hold out a hand as you approach.

“Restricted access, you can’t go in there.” The guard says, almost heartlessly.

Just as he finishes speaking, the door opens and Haymitch steps out and away. You would look through the window but the blinds are down.

“I’m sorry, Sweetheart, you can’t see him.” Haymitch takes your arm and leads you back down the hallway. “The Capitol… they tortured him so bad he—” Haymitch stops, and looks away for a second before looking back. “He tried to strangle Katniss, and kept yelling about how Katniss was a liar. He’s not himself right now.”

So much for your heartfelt reunion.

All content belongs to @beingsuneone , do not repost, copy or post on other platforms without my permission.

#peeta mellark #the hunger games peeta #thg peeta #peeta x reader #peeta #peeta mellark x reader #peeta mellark x you #thg x reader #the hunger games x reader #the hunger games #catching fire #mockingjay #spoilers #mockingjay spoilers #catching fire spoilers #thg spoilers #the hunger games spoilers

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catindabag · 5 months

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Another set of ✨Academy Photos✨ from the 24 OG Mentors in my TBOSAS Crack!AU. (Read THIS and THIS for context)

Drunk!Coryo with the amazing Lucy Gray celebrating and dancing like crazy at the train station to annoy the other Tributes before saying goodbye for the last time after ending the Hunger Games with ✨Ravinstill Nepotism✨. Also, Drunk!Sejanus Plinth took the photo. #supportive #rich #boyfriend

Rich Boy Sejanus Plinth buying his ✨Snow Angel✨😘 another expensive jacket before going on a date for ✨WinterFest✨😏. #Best #Gorgeous #PowerCouple #ofPanem

Class President Felix Ravinstill celebrating with his fellow classmates and joining their ✨End of The Year Class Photo✨ after finally ending the Hunger Games forever through sheer dumb luck and nepotism. #Ravinstillpower #nomoreHungerGames #Goodbye #DrGaul

Clemmie reading Festus Creed’s ✨Secret Diary Entrees for Blackmail Purposes✨about Arachne, Livia, Highbottom and Hilarius Heavensbee’s creepy old man. Fortunately, the contents of Creed’s diary were not released for the greater good of Panem. #dangerous #Tea

Clemmie, Lizzie, Festus, Felix, and Arachne ✨slaying✨ while waiting for Coryo and Sejanus to arrive with the food for their formal ✨TGIF✨ dinner party. #waiting4thefood #foodbyMaPlinth

Drunk!Festus and Drunk!Felix hugging like idiots in the middle of Scholar’s Road. Also, this photo was taken by a very Drunk!Coryo Snow who went shoe shopping with them for the weekend but accidentally ended up in ✨Pluribus Bell’s Night Club✨ instead. #Besties #Forever #LoveMeBoaBell🐱

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familyvideostevie · 7 months

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𝕛𝕠𝕖𝕝 𝕞𝕚𝕝𝕝𝕖𝕣 𝕞𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥

𝗴𝘂𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀 | 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗺𝗲

any nsfw/18+ content will be tagged as such, minors dni

when you read, please reblog and tell me your thoughts!

𝗳𝗶𝗰𝘀:

just and just as: a series of loosely connected one shots in an au!jackson feat.:

come care about me: a quiet evening at your house in Jackson with the man you call home | implied but unspecified age gap, domesticity, jackson au, joel is a flirt and a gossip [2.2k]

part two to the above: watching you with wonder: joel claims to have heard something interesting. too bad he keeps insisting he needs more information before he can tell you | domesticity, post-part i jackson au, joel is a flirt and a gossip but good thing you are too, a fair amount of kissing, fluff, softness, peace and all that good stuff [5.4k]

sort of part three to the above: steel drum weight of me: joel miller x fem!reader, 18+ mdni | joel comes back from his wall shift with hands in need of some serious tlc. but why stop there? | 3.2k you have me, you have me only: joel miller x fem!reader | you get (minorly) injured on patrol. joel does his best to patch you up and not worry too much. | jackson!joel, hurt/comfort, wound-patching, some blood, a jesse cameo, joel being joel, all that good stuff. | 4.2k

time you will not spend alone: romance at the end of the world is this: flowers, lazy nights in bed after long days, and savoring every moment | or, joel makes you something. | 18+ mdni jackson!joel au, fem!reader, fluff, maybe a bit cheesy but idgaf [5.7k]

a kind of hunger: you really need to stop sleeping with that guy from the bar before you like him too much. (it might be too late). 18+, mdni, multichapter, ongoing

the meaning of it all: Joel Miller, of all people, teaches you to ask for help. | jackson au, post part i, joel and ellie worked it out! joel is soft! language, violence, fluff, learning to accept help and love. [13.6k]

day after tomorrow: joel drops you off and picks you up from the airport. you are definitely falling in love with him, modern no outbreak au, fluff galore [2.7k]

it's your turn for choosing: joel stops by your coffee shack every day. it's not your fault you're a little in love with him because of it. | modern au, fluff, flirting, jesse and cat and ellie cameos, game!joel in my head. i have not been a barista so sorry to all baristas if this reads wildly off-base. [5.6k]

𝗮𝘀𝗸𝘀:

ask: joel doesn't get why you won't wear your damn gloves. fluff, jackson au [0.8k]

GEN FICS:

living high until that fatal day: joel finds himself stuck in a time loop of that day in salt lake city.| joel miller & ellie williams gen fic [7.5k]

#navigation #joel miller x reader

178 notes · View notes

snwpcktz · 9 months

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A GAME OF CRUELTY (pt. 1)

PAIRING: jay x fem!reader (ft. heeseung)

GENRE: hunger games au (pre second rebellion), neighbors to friends to lovers, angst

SYNOPSIS: after years of praying to not get picked for the reaping, the odds end up not being in y/n’s favor and she is chosen as district 7’s female tribute. she plans to simply sacrifice herself early, since it would be nearly impossible for her to beat all the other tributes and make it back safely to her now ex-boyfriend, ethan. but her perspective of the games change when her next door neighbor, jay, is chosen as the male tribute—and maybe her feelings towards him will change, too.

WARNINGS: mature themes (violence, death), major character death, descriptions of violence and injuries, love triangle, swearing, reader uses she/her pronouns, use of the binary genders to refer to the reaping tributes

WC: 10.3k

NOTE: hello hello !! the first part of my hunger games fic is finally here!! again, i tried to keep things as accurate as i could but this is set in the year before katniss and peeta were reaped, which means i don’t have a lot of set info to use. there will be a pt. 2, so if you’d like to be tagged pls reply to this post or my wips page! thank you and i hope you enjoy the read!! <3

reaping day. the most dreaded day every single year.

every year, two children between the ages of twelve and eighteen would be chosen as tributes to participate in the annual hunger games. they would fight against twenty-two other tributes to death, leaving only one survivor as the victor of the games. it was cruel, vicious, and the reason why y/n couldn't sleep peacefully every summer night.

y/n exited her house with a slip of paper in her hand. her boyfriend, ethan lee, had just sent her a little note asking for her to meet him in a nearby forest. it was the last year he would be reaped, so y/n brought a deer trinket from the local market as a gift.

once she locked her front door, she took a quick look around her neighborhood. it was like any other day in district 7, except that anyone could sense the dread in every single civilian's face. parents, grandparents, and children alike all held the same expression.

it only soured y/n’s mood. being the only child of her family, y/n’s mother stressed every single year over the possibility that her daughter could be chosen for a game that leads straight to death. it broke y/n’s heart to see her mother cry next to their fireplace every night, praying that her only child wouldn’t become a victim of the games.

her father wasn’t any different. although he was a man of few emotions, y/n could see how relieved he was when her name wasn’t called out during past reapings. his way of showing care was by teaching her how to throw axes from a young age. although he claimed that it was just a skill for her to use in “necessary circumstances”, y/n knew that he meant for it to be used in case she got reaped.

clutching onto the deer trinket tightly, y/n began her trek to the forest. it wasn’t uncommon for her to meet up with ethan in a forest--after all, they lived in district 7. the sounds of birds chirping filled her ears as she entered the area, accompanied by the droplets of rain falling from the night before.

she stepped over logs of wood on the ground, most likely left over from a recent lumber job. passing by the stream that marked the center of the forest, y/n made a sharp right turn, walking in the direction of the border to district 9.

y/n stopped several meters away from the fence that marked the border, decorated with large warning signs. she scanned the area around her but there was no sight of ethan.

“ethan?” she called out, her voice reaching to the dense tops of the forest.

it was silent for a moment before she heard movement above. “up here.”

she snapped her head towards the sound, now noticing ethan on top of a tree branch. he pushed himself off, landing safely on both feet on the padded ground.

“hey,” he said, approaching y/n.

“hey,” she whispered.

they stood in comfortable silence for a moment, savoring the seconds they could spare with each other. y/n was the first to speak, fiddling with the metal trinket in her hand.

“i brought you this,” she began, holding out the deer-shaped item to him. “take it as a good luck charm.”

ethan’s hand gently took the trinket, running his thumb over its grooves. his lips curled into a smile as he responded, “thanks, y/n.”

but the smile didn’t last. he swallowed thickly before continuing, “so, uh, i asked to meet you to tell you something.”

y/n nodded. “i’m listening.”

ethan paused for a moment, closing his eyes before taking a deep breath. “we…we need to break up.”

y/n could feel her heart drop. her breathing slowed as her mouth ran dry. she couldn’t understand the sudden request. hadn’t she been a good girlfriend?

“w- what?” she spluttered. “why?”

“it’s reaping day,” ethan solemnly stated.

“yeah, but this happens every year!” y/n retorted, feeling frustration rise in her voice. “plus, it’s your last year being reaped!”

“that’s the point, y/n!” ethan groaned, brows furrowing. “it’s my last year! do you know how many times i’ve applied for tesserae? my name’s in there twenty fucking times, y/n.”

y/n gulped. she knew ethan’s family wasn’t well off and that he had family members he needed to provide for, but she didn’t expect that he applied for tesserae that often. she could feel tears well up in her eyes, heartbroken for his situation.

“i have such a high chance of getting picked,” ethan whispered, worry clouding his eyes. he delicately held y/n’s hands, causing her to raise her head. “if i die, i don’t want you to hold onto me.”

“you’re not getting picked!” y/n screamed, ripping her hands away from his. “ethan, you’re the only man i love! you can’t just end things like this!”

she crumbled to the ground, hugging her knees to her chest. hot tears streamed down her cheeks as she sobbed, feeling the gentle rubs of ethan’s hand on her head.

“it's not fair!" she wailed. “it’s not fucking fair!” deep down, y/n knew that ethan was right--he did have a higher chance of being picked, and that tore her apart.

"nothing is fair here," ethan mumbled, hand tangled in her hair. "but i just want you to know that if i do get picked, please...take care of my family for me."

y/n sniffled and nodded her head. "thanks," ethan whispered, the ghost of a smile on his lips.

a sudden gust of strong wind blew onto them, causing both of them to look up. a blimp flew across the forest, stripping trees of loose leaves and ground of dry dirt. they both immediately knew what it meant, sharing a look together.

"it's time."

rows of teenagers stood in front of the hall of justice, surrounded by members of the capitol with cameras and film equipment. peacekeepers had already flooded the district, running identification checks and bordering the area for the reaping. y/n could still feel her finger throbbing from the prick she received mere minutes ago as she stood in line.

the large screens next to the stage had already began running, displaying the various members of district 7. y/n could spot a pixelated version of herself, clad in a modest white sundress and matching white ballet flats. she turned her head to the left, spotting ethan standing in his row in no time.

but he wasn't looking at her. he kept his head forward, a solemn gaze on his face. y/n turned her head back around, letting out a pained sigh. she knew that whatever emotions he was feeling at the moment could never be experienced by her, a girl who lived in an only child household in a moderately well off neighborhood. but she couldn't help but feel selfish, desperately wanting ethan to be spared from the cruel hands of the reaping.

so she prayed. she clasped her hands together and lowered her head. please, she thought. please don't pick ethan. please let the odds be in his favor, just this once.

the sounds of footsteps coming to a stop and doors opening caused y/n to raise her head, eyes now fixated on the marble building in the front. members of the district government and previous victors of district 7 entered the stage, followed by a woman with a bright smile on her face.

luxurious, velvety, emerald green clothing adorned her body along with a matching sun hat and dozens of gold jewelry. her heels clicked on the wooden stage as she made her way towards the podium, perfectly glossed lips framing her pearly smile.

"welcome! welcome, welcome," she announced, her cheery voice echoing throughout the area. "once again, i am your district escort, tiffany young! happy hunger games! and may the odds be ever in your favor."

tiffany cleared her throat before continuing, "now! before we begin, we have a very special film brought to you all the way from the capitol!"

she raised her glove-clothed arm towards the screen as a video began playing. "war. terrible war," president snow's voice boomed from the speakers.

y/n noticed several girls around her rolling their eyes. she couldn't blame them. it was boring having to watch the same video every single year, especially when it did barely any justification for the games.

she turned her head to look behind her at the crowd of parents. she spotted her mom, head down and whispering words, most likely prayers for her daughter. her father was next to her, a comforting arm wrapped around his wife as he stoically stared at the screen.

it was just like every year. what was there to worry about?

y/n glanced at ethan. he had the same expression as her father, but she could see that he was chewing on the inside of his cheek. a soft sigh left her lips. there was one thing to worry about--ethan.

she decided to pray once more, lowering her head and squeezing her eyes shut.

please, pick anyone but ethan. i beg for you to spare him.

"this is how we remember our past," the voice of president snow stated. "this is how we safeguard our future."

"what a remarkable film!" tiffany gushed as the music began to quiet. "now, the time has come for us to select one courageous young man and woman for the honor of representing district 7 in the 73rd annual hunger games."

y/n felt her heartbeat quicken as she watched the escort's smile grow. "as usual, ladies first."

tiffany walked to the reaping bowl with poise, heels echoing in the silence that overwhelmed the district. she reached a gloved hand in, fishing for an entry slip. she gently selected one, returning to the podium elegantly.

tiffany took the liberty to clear her throat as she undid the delicate tape on the paper slip. she glanced at the crowd before announcing the name with a smile.

"y/n l/n."

the world stopped for a moment. y/n couldn't prevent the ringing in her ears as her lips parted in shock. the pounding in her chest increased to a ridiculous speed as the girls around her turned, isolating her from the crowd. her hands grew clammy as tiffany laid her eyes on her, the smile on her face appearing more sinister than before.

"come on up, dear!" the escort called, her voice sounding sickly sweet in y/n's ears.

y/n's feet moved slowly, dragging against the gravel on the ground as she passed by her fellow civilians. she didn't dare to look up from her pathway, shrinking at the feeling of thousands of eyes on her.

she could feel the peacekeepers behind her place their hands on her back, guiding her to the stage. her eyes were shaking, losing sight of each step she was taking.

she grasped onto the railing of the stairs, barely feeling the soles of her feet. she could see tiffany at the top of the stairs, reaching a hand out to her. "come, come!" she said to y/n, gesturing to her with her hand.

y/n gratefully took it, allowing the texture of her velvet gloves to bring her back to reality. tiffany placed her other hand on her shoulder, gently leading her to the left side of the podium.

"well, let's have a big hand for our first tribute, y/n l/n!" tiffany declared into the microphone.

the weak applause clouded y/n's head, contrasting the striking speed her heart was thumping at. she used the last of her strength and consciousness to lift her head, searching the crowd in front of her.

she could spot her mother's face, frozen with shock and panic. her father's mouth was open, completely bewildered and in disbelief. y/n moved her eyes to the crowd of teen boys, where she found ethan already staring straight at her, a fresh tear sliding down his cheek.

y/n swallowed thickly, not breaking the eye contact. here she was, standing on a stage that she never thought she would be standing on. her lips quivered as she gained the strength to mouth an "i love you", triggering a rush of tears to ethan's eyes.

she chose to cut the eye contact after that, unable to watch her ex-lover cry. she stared straight at the wooden floor, biting her bottom lip in an attempt to hold back the tears in her eyes.

"and now for the boys!" tiffany stated.

the escort walked to the reaping bowl on the opposite end of the stage, quickly plucking a slip from its depths and returning to the podium. she let out a small hum before unfolding the slip.

"jay park."

y/n raised her head to look at the crowd. the boys had distanced themselves from the said person, who looked just as surprised as y/n was when she was chosen.

y/n recognized him. he was her next door neighbor, a boy known for being respectful and hard-working. at just a year older than y/n, he was preparing to enter the workforce full-time, learning the ups and downs of his family's lumber business. he was known to be skilled with axes and saws, his muscular arms and broad chest proof of it all.

he wore a white dress shirt and black slacks, dark hair slicked with gel and neatly combed. the peacekeepers guided him to the stage, his dress shoes sounding every step he took up the wooden stairs. he stood on the other side of the podium, observing the crowd from his new perspective.

y/n turned to ethan, a part of her relieved that he wasn't picked. but he clearly did not feel the same, his eyes now red and cheeks stained with tears. he looked at y/n so hopelessly, it made her feel ashamed for feeling even a bit of relief.

"shake hands, you two!" tiffany's voice said, snapping y/n out of her trance.

she glanced at jay, whose eyes were already on her. they quickly joined hands, jay's large one wrapping around y/n's shaking one.

"happy hunger games!" tiffany announced, her smile brighter than before. "and may the odds be ever in your favor."

y/n had spent the last few minutes curled up in the corner of a room in the hall of justice, sobbing to herself as she processed what just happened. in the span of just several minutes, she had been chosen as a tribute for her district in a game of death.

her grip on her knees tightened. although her father had somewhat prepared her for this scenario, there was no way in hell that she would survive the hunger games. sure, she knew how to throw axes and she was pretty good at climbing trees, but she was sure that it was nothing compared to what other tributes can do.

she felt her tears flood out as she fell into a hole of despair. it was impossible for her to win, huh? i'll just die first, she decided, choking out her sobs. i'll die first so that my parents won't gain false hope. i won't let them waste tears over me.

the creak from the door opening caught y/n's attention. a peacekeeper held it open, allowing her parents to step inside the room. "you have three minutes," he stated before shutting the door.

y/n immediately stood up, running to her parents. "mom! dad!"

her mother engulfed her in a tight hug, warm tears falling onto y/n's shoulders. "my precious, sweet little baby...why is the world so cruel to you?" she whispered, her voice thick with anguish.

y/n only cried harder, burying her face into her mother's neck. "you don't deserve this, baby," her mother weeped. "you deserve to live a happy, long life with us."

"m- mom, i'm gonna die," y/n babbled, feeling her words slur after crying for so long.

"don't say that, please," her mother begged. y/n could feel more droplets of warmth land on her shoulder. "please, please! don't ever say that again."

"y/n, you have to try your best," her father's voice reasoned. "you need to fight until the end."

y/n could only cry more, letting out a gut-wrenching scream. "i- i don't wanna leave so early..."

she could feel her mother squeeze tighter as her sobs got louder. "baby, y- you know we love you so, so much, right?"

"yes, mom...o- of course i know."

"please, live. for us."

the sound of the door opening caused y/n to hold onto her mother tighter, watching the peacekeepers heard towards her parents through her swollen eyes.

"no! stop!" she yelled, gripping onto her mother's arm. she could feel another peacekeeper restrain her from behind, ripping her away from her parents.

she wailed, pushing away the peacekeeper. she watched her mom get dragged out of the room, burying her face in her hands as her back shook from the intensity of her sobbing. her father turned around, sending a solemn smile to her.

she watched a stream of liquid drop from her father's eye. it was the first time she saw her father cry.

the door slammed shut for a moment before it reopened, a tall man entering with a peacekeeper at his tail.

"ethan!" y/n ran to the boy, who let her press her puffy face on his chest.

he rested his head on top of hers, hugging her hair while closing his eyes. "i thought it was going to be me," he whispered, breath shaky. "but it turned out to be much more worse than that."

he gently cupped y/n's face before bending down, swiftly connecting their lips. wet with tears, their lips molded against one another, filled with desperation and despair.

they separated after a moment, allowing ethan press his lips against y/n's forehead as she sniffled. "i still love you, y/n."

his words only caused her to choke out another sob. "i'll love you forever. you know i love you so."

the dreaded door opened once again as a peacekeeper pulled on ethan's arm, forcing him away from her. his eyes welled with tears once more as he mouthed another "i love you" before the door shut, physically separating the two.

y/n collapsed to the ground, screaming as she punched the ground with her fist. i love you too, ethan.

after what seemed like hours of crying and peacekeepers forcing her into a carriage, y/n had somewhat collected herself, lightly sniffling as she gazed out of the window.

tiffany seemed almost unaffected by the girl, chattering about the capitol to jay with a grin on her face. she would spare a glance at y/n every so often, but decided to not speak to her, assuming that she wanted some personal space in the cramped carriage.

before they knew it, they had arrived at the train station. "just an hour and we will arrive at the capitol!" tiffany cheered as they boarded the train.

as soon as they entered, the tributes were greeted with luxury they had only dreamed about before. crystal chandeliers, gold-plated silverware, and plush cushions were laid out just for them. glass displays held varieties of baked sweets and savory bites, followed by an impressive selection of beverages stored in crystal pitchers.

y/n’s mouth gaped at the sight, slowly stepping into the train cabin. of course, the capitol is different.

“now, now, sit down children!” tiffany sweetly said, guiding the two with gloved hands on their backs to a table. “i’ll be back in just a moment!”

y/n hesitantly sat down in a chair that was much too lavish for her, practically swallowing her in the lush cushioning. jay followed in suit, seating himself next to her.

“this is insane,” jay muttered, eyes fixated on the delicate china set on the table.

y/n hummed in response, blinking her swollen eyes as she took in her surroundings. “it’s crazy how we went from being neighbors to sacrificing ourselves for our district,” she mumbled, a frown etched onto her face.

jay could only sigh at the comment. one day, they were going about their daily errands, chatting as the children of families who lived next door. the next, they were seated in a high-speed rail train on the way to the capitol, where their desperate battle for survival would be broadcasted for all of panem to see.

“y/n, jay, i want to introduce you to someone!” tiffany’s bubbly voice rang.

the escort approached the table, followed by a woman sporting a coffee brown blazer and a matching pencil skirt. her raven black hair was highlighted with scarlet red streaks, all tied back into a ponytail that moved from side to side with each step she took.

she slid into the seat across from y/n, a cold expression on her face as she crossed her arms over her chest. “this is johanna mason, victor of the 71st hunger games!” tiffany introduced, elegantly seating herself next to the said woman. “she will be your mentor as a victor from district 7.”

silence overcame the room. y/n and jay stared at johanna expectingly, who was avoiding their gazes by locking her eyes onto the table in front of her. tiffany sat perfectly straight, her smile slightly faltering at the sudden change in volume.

“well,” she said, standing up and brushing off her velvet skirt. “i will leave you three to it!”

her emerald green stilettos clicked against the hard floor as she moved to a cabin next door.

“so, you’re the unlucky pair that got pulled into the games this year,” johanna grumbled, eyeing both of the tributes. “i’m not someone who’ll sugarcoat things, so you both better be fucking prepared for what i’m about to say.”

y/n and jay nodded, eager to hear from a fellow district citizen and a victor of the games.

“you have literally no chance of winning.”

johanna’s words caused y/n’s heart to drop. she could tell that jay was experiencing the same, tension quickly swarming around the table.

“but you have a good chance of surviving longer if you follow my advice,” she continued, resting her elbows on the polished table.

johanna picked up a gold butter knife, running her fingers along the edges. "you're not a career district, but you're not the most disadvantaged. that's what 7 is--always stuck in the middle. lumber is all we're known for, so everyone who watches the games knows that we can handle our axes. but don't let them think that."

she stabbed the table with the knife, causing both of the tributes to flinch. "you need to act weak," johanna declared, looking at both of them in the eye. "that's how i won. make them believe you won't survive anyway, hide, and attack at the last moment. fool them. use their stupidity to your advantage. that's the only way a middleman can win."

she turned to jay, ponytail following her head movement. "you. jay park, seventeen. i heard you're already in the lumber business."

"yes, ma'am," jay replied, a little intimidated by johanna's stare.

"don't call me that, it makes you sound like a pussy," johanna spat, leaning back in her seat. "call me johanna."

"yes, johanna."

she let out a hum of approval. "are you good with any weapons?"

"i've worked with axes and saws," jay answered. "i've done mostly chopping, cutting, and sanding my whole life. some heavy lifting and business communication, too."

"great, strength and customer service," johanna summarized with a nod. she turned her head to the right, locking her eyes onto y/n. "now you. y/n, seventeen. any experience with weapons?"

"my father taught me how to throw axes since i was little," y/n responded. she found herself fiddling with the hem of her dress, nervous for her new mentor's reaction.

"axe throwing, i like it," johanna replied. "unfortunately, there are no throwable axes offered in the games, so you're sort of fucked there."

y/n felt her breath hitch. before she could speak, johanna continued, playing with the knife stuck in the table, "but knife throwing isn't far from axe throwing. plus, if you train enough, you might be able to throw the axes they have."

y/n let out the breath she was holding in, somewhat relieved by her mentor's response. she had never felt so grateful towards her father.

"now, this whole week is dedicated to preparing for the games," johanna stated, changing the topic at hand. "you will spend your time training, being interviewed, being tested, and kissing up to sponsors. unfortunately for you both, your first day has already started."

the windows of the train transitioned from dark to light, beams of sun flowing into the cabin. a huge body of water could be seen surrounding hundreds of high-rise buildings made with sleek designs and accompanied with phenomenal technology.

johanna eyed the two tributes with astonished looks on their face, curling her lips into a small smirk. "welcome to the capitol, bitches."

y/n stood next to a chariot, adjusting the corset on her body. she had just spent the last few hours being completely tortured, aka hours of waxing and plucking. if that wasn't enough, her stylist completely ridiculed her for having a puffy face after crying, embarrassing her in front of the whole prep team.

she had never wanted to go home so badly.

but here she was, dressed like a capitol darling in getup she could have never pictured herself in. a forest green corset was bound tightly around her waist, hugging the black long-sleeved bodysuit embroidered with gold leaves underneath. a matching black maxi skirt was wrapped right under the corset, with layers ruffled and seams sewed with gold thread.

thick, gold hoops hung from her ears and gold cuffs banded her wrists. her hair was combed and let down, decorated with a single gold barrette embellished with emeralds. her eyes flaunted deep, green eyeshadow shimmering with gold pearlescent glitter and long, curled and lengthened eyelashes. her lips were painted with a warm brown lipstick, matching the color of her nail polish.

y/n had never felt so out of place. she shifted her weight, feeling uneasy standing in such tall heels. how do people in the capitol dress like this everyday?

her eyes caught jay heading to the chariot, adjusting his own gold cuffs. his chest was covered with forest green armor, accented with gold leaves. his biceps were framed with a long-sleeve compression shirt, perfectly sculpting the curves of the muscles. black slacks accentuated his long legs, held on his waist by a black and gold belt. his hair was slicked back and his ears were cuffed with gold earrings. glittery green eyeliner bordered his eyes and his lips were plush and pink- wait, why was she looking at his lips?

y/n blinked. she couldn't believe how stylish (and incredibly attractive) her next door neighbor looked. the most they had seen each other in were the formal attire they wore for reaping day every year to look somewhat acceptable on public television. but now, now she understood why he was such a hot topic among the girls in her neighborhood.

jay's eyes met hers and he flashed a small smile, finishing his trek to the chariot. "you look amazing," he said, a few strands of gelled hair slipping out of place and framing his forehead.

"same goes for you," y/n breathed out, sending back a smile of her own.

they could hear a dramatic gasp and turned, spotting tiffany and johanna heading towards them. "my darlings, you look absolutely stunning!" tiffany squealed, clapping her hands as she walked.

"trees, trees, trees," johanna groaned. "that's all that damn stylist can do. get some fucking creativity, people!"

"johanna!" tiffany yelped, slapping the mentor on the shoulder. she faced the tributes once again, adorning a bubbly smile. "well, i think you both look absolutely wonderful."

"at least it's better than mine, i guess," johanna grumbled, crossing her arms. "now, today is all about beginning to attract some fans. act friendly, smile, and wave. don't do anything stupid and you'll be fine."

the static from a speaker could be heard as caesar flickerman appeared on a screen. "that's our cue to go!' tiffany exclaimed. "we'll see you later, darlings! and remember, smile!"

their escort and mentor left, following the crowd of other district team members. jay let out a soft sigh before saying, "it's time for us to get ready, then."

y/n hummed. jay stood next to the entrance of the chariot and held out a hand. "ladies first," he stated with a smile.

thump! y/n was glad she had a full face of makeup on to hide the heat spreading on her cheeks. she delicately took his hand, feeling her heartbeat increase as she stepped onto the chariot and held onto his gentle hand.

jay followed after her, accidentally brushing his shoulder against hers. she could feel the warmth radiating from his body due to their close proximity. her hands gripped the railing of the chariot, squeezing the metal tighter as she tried to not focus on the boy next to her.

the crowd outside began to grow louder as the first chariots were released. she could hear caesar flickerman from the screen, gushing with claudius templesmith about each of the tributes' stylistic costumes.

before she knew it, the horses in front of her began moving, pulling their chariot closer to the entrance. bright stage lights shone in y/n's eyes, blinding her for a second.

she felt jay place his right hand on her left, tapping her two times. "smile, y/n."

and so she did. y/n parted her lips to reveal the most dazzling smile she could, the sound of cheers filling her ears. but she missed the sweet smile jay gave her as her eyes adjusted to the new lighting.

the unsteady movement beneath her feet and the overwhelming amount of viewers caused her stomach to churn, but the hand on top of hers provided her a newfound source of comfort. she swiveled her head around, making sure to keep her bright smile plastered on her face.

the audience was full of people sporting vibrant garments and bizarre accessories. colored eyelashes the length of a hand, dyed hair in all sorts of purples and pinks, and puffy sleeves adorning shoulder after shoulder. it was beyond anything y/n could've imagined wearing, but here she was, standing in almost identical clothing while they observed her like a character in a game.

after all, that was all she was to them--a new addition to their cruel game that they watched eagerly every single year. to the ultra-wealthy, it was all fun and entertainment. but to her, it was a one-way ticket to her death.

she felt the smile on her face falter, gulping before stretching the corners of her lips wider. now was not the time to think about those things. she needed to attract sponsors to gain even a minute more of survival in the arena.

so she stood up straighter, flashing her most welcoming face that she could. the heat from the torches that they sped past only added to the adrenaline rush she felt running through her veins. her eyes flickered to the dual screens above the audience, catching the cameras filming their chariot.

she glanced at jay, who's smile was just as charming as ever. his jawline was firm and sharp, a charismatic feature that the capitol's cameras easily captured. his eyes shone with determination, a look that many could only find in the careers.

y/n felt a sense of pride in the moment. proud to have jay as her partner, proud to hear positive reactions from the audience, and proud to be from district 7.

the horses made a turn, slowing their pace down as they brought the chariot to a stop. a gust of air brushed past them as they left the heat of the runway, ending their time in the spotlight of the tribute parade.

y/n allowed her lips to relax, scanning the environment around her. the last few chariots were filing in, all carrying tributes dressed just as extravagantly as them. she watched as the sponsors in the audience screamed with energy, enjoying the last moments of the parade.

she could see the cameras pan to a podium above the tributes and turned to face it. there president snow stood, waving to the crowd with a small smile.

the audience grew quiet as he cleared his throat. "welcome. tributes, we welcome you," president snow announced. "we salute your courage and your sacrifice. and we wish you, happy hunger games! and may the odds be ever in your favor."

y/n felt her eye twitch at his words. before she knew it, the chariots began to move again, pulling all of the tributes out of the spotlight as the crowd cheered one last time.

in just a couple of more days, y/n had found herself on the last day of training.

johanna had taught her the differences between throwing knives and throwing axes, and so she had adjusted her training accordingly. she had quite a bit of trouble at the beginning, but eventually adapted to the new weapon quickly.

now, she was more determined than ever to try her hardest in the games, no matter what it took.

she practiced climbing structures and creating fires with jay. they talked more over identifying sources of water, studying types of infection, and spying on the other tributes. jay had taught her how to properly use a tactical axe and y/n had showed him how to aim weapons in long-range fights.

she learned that jay was talented at cooking and often tried new recipes for dinners on weekends. he informed her about the small pieces of etiquette he picked up on at formal business meetings at meals in their apartment. within just two days, she found herself closer than ever to her next door neighbor.

they shared secret smiles during training sessions, had late-night talks after hot showers, and gave each other words of encouragement every morning. he cut her steak for her at dinner, she wiped his sweat after training, and they held hands on the way to the basement of the training center, squeezing each other tightly as a way of supporting each other.

they had become close friends in such a short span of time, but they wouldn't tell each other about the deeper feelings that were brewing in their chests.

johanna slapped both of their backs as they stood in the elevator on the way to their private training sessions, where they would be officially scored by the gamemakers. "now, i would say act weak, but you two have showed off way too much during your training," she spoke, a hint of playfulness in her voice.

"so instead, go for something more average," she instructed. "like a seven. or a six. miss two shots but hit one. you won't get as many sponsors but at least you'll be off of some of the tributes' radars."

johanna sent both of them a small grin. "good luck to you two, and be as average as you can!"

her words caused both of the tributes to chuckle, exiting the elevator once the doors opened. "bye, johanna!" y/n called, waving to their mentor.

johanna just leaned against the glass windows of the elevator, shaking her head with a smile.

the two district 7 tributes entered the gymnasium's waiting room through automatic sliding doors, finding many other tributes already sitting inside. thick tension clouded the room, causing the small smiles on their faces to drop.

they were finally here on their last day of training, two days before the games would begin.

they sat down on stools labeled with their district's number, eyeing the other tributes warily. the careers sat with confidence in the front, cocky as ever with smirks on their faces. on the opposite end, the lower districts were hunched and fidgeting, anxious for the evaluation.

once again, y/n and jay stood in the middle, both figuratively and literally. y/n swallowed thickly, suddenly feeling a little parched. sure, she had trained long and hard to adapt to knife throwing, but her skills were definitely not on par with a career who had been throwing knives her whole life.

she glanced at the district 1 female tribute, who was giggling at something her partner had said. y/n had observed her throughout their training sessions, taking the time to understand her style of fighting and her precise aim. y/n wasn't unaware of her surroundings either, finding the tribute's gaze on her multiple times.

she fiddled with her fingers, suddenly feeling her hands grow clammy. "jay," she whispered, catching the boy's attention who responded with a soft hum. "do...do you think we can ever defeat the careers?"

jay glanced up, taking a quick look at them before replying, "well, they're not invincible, are they?"

y/n let out a soft chuckle at his words. "sure, they attended a special training academy and whatever, but we've played around with axes since we could hold a pencil," he continued, wrapping his arm around her and rubbing her shoulder comfortingly. "like johanna said, we just need to deceive them to win. after all, we might not need to fight them for them to die. a nasty ego is just as bad as a sword through the chest."

jay gave her one last pat on the shoulder before facing her. "don't underestimate yourself. you've worked hard and deserve to show off a little."

y/n smiled, gazing into his kind eyes. "thanks, jay," she said. "you deserve it, too."

he smiled back, staring straight into hers. they sat in a comfortable silence, neither of them breaking the eye contact. y/n was thankful that the room wasn't dead silent, otherwise everyone could hear how loudly her heart was thumping.

the warmth in his eyes, easing all of the tension in her body. the way his pupils dilated the longer he stared at her. the reflection of the light in his eyes, highlighting his soothing gaze.

for a moment, she swore that she saw jay's eyes flicker to her lips. but the sound of an alarm interrupted their silence, catching the attention of all the tributes.

"the private training sessions will begin now."

y/n let out a quick breath, seeing jay do the same in her peripheral vision. she squeezed her eyes shut, holding her head in her hands. how could she think about anything else other than the evaluations at hand?

but no matter how stressed her mind was, it couldn't stop the pounding in her chest. heat rose to her cheeks as she replayed the moment in her head, remembering the split second jay eyed her lips.

time flew by as her head ached, split between worrying about her private session and processing the feelings in her heart. she felt ashamed with herself--it had not been long since ethan broke up with her and she was confident that she still had feelings for him. so why was her heart fluttering around another man?

before she knew it, district 6's tributes had finished up and the waiting room was half empty. "district 7, y/n l/n," the electronic voice announced.

y/n stood up, stretching her limbs before heading towards the gymnasium entrance.

"hey y/n!" a voice called through the silence.

she turned around, looking at jay, who now had everyone's attention. "be average," he said with a grin, causing y/n to smile.

"you too," she replied, pointing at him.

she could hear him chuckle as she left through the sliding doors, taking one more deep breath before entering the gymnasium. the training room was cold, with little light illuminating the large area. she could hear the chatter of the gamemakers in a room above, observing their little festivities with food and drinks.

y/n walked to the marking in the center of the room, making sure to look at all of her surroundings. three targets shaped like humans were placed at a certain distance from her marked spot. to her left was a spread of different knives, all set neatly on a placemat and a table.

she turned around to face the gamemakers, who were enjoying their cocktails above. "y/n l/n, district 7," she introduced herself, catching the attention of the head gamemaker, seneca crane.

he swallowed his sip before nodding to her, prompting her to begin her chosen skill. she picked up a knife, gripping the wooden handle tightly.

she held her breath, focusing her eyes on the target and balancing herself. be average. she let her eyes lower before throwing the knife as powerfully as she could.

the thigh. not a critical area but definitely a shot that could cause lots of pain. she heard some pleased reactions and some mocking chuckles from the gamemakers.

y/n continued, grabbing a longer knife. she planted her feet, eyed her target, and threw the weapon.

the edge of the arm. another painful area, but not a critical one. definitely less impressive than her last shot. she heard more chuckles this time but didn't mind them.

she brushed her hands over the rest of the knives, taking the time to weigh her options. she decided on a thicker knife, with more weight and less speed.

she stood on the marking, once again. she took in a sharp breath, holding it as she positioned herself. eyes straight on the target, soles flat on the floor, and arm in the air, tensing with energy. she threw with all her might, a shout coming from her lips.

right smackdown in the heart. she huffed, staring at her work in disbelief. a few whistles and weak applause could be heard from the gamemakers as she faced them and bowed, taking her leave.

she was met with johanna and tiffany at the entrance of the district 7 apartment, who clapped loudly for her.

"that was wonderful, darling!" tiffany cheered, flaunting a hot pink tulle dress and matching accessories. "you did amazing!"

"great job on being mediocre, y/n," johanna commented with a chuckle. "that last shot was nice, though. definitely will bring you some sponsors."

"thanks, guys," y/n replied with a smile.

"come, come! jay's evaluation is playing," tiffany said, ushering y/n to the couch in front of the television screen.

she sat down on the soft cushion, shimmying a bit to get more comfortable with the skin-tight training clothing she was wearing. johanna stood behind her, resting her arms on the frame of the couch as tiffany elegantly sat down.

y/n could see jay on the screen with a tactical axe in hand. he swung the weapon around, hitting vital spots of the dummies surrounding him. the camera panned to the gamemakers, broadcasting their impressed faces as they discussed his skills.

he finished up by chucking his axe straight at a dummy’s head, the weapon slicing the head straight down the middle. jay took a moment to catch his breath before bowing in front of the gamemakers, ending district 7’s private training sessions.

y/n gulped. she knew jay was good, but the evaluations showed her a new side of him. one that was vicious, determined, and confident. there was no doubt that he would be a threat in the arena.

the television screen flickered off and tiffany stood up immediately, clapping her hands. “marvelous! just marvelous!” she gushed. “what talented tributes we have this year!”

“you should’ve seen the beginning, he purposely dropped the axe on a dummy’s foot,” johanna said with a light laugh. “i think he took my advice a little too seriously.”

y/n snickered at the comment, standing up from the couch. “he’ll be here any minute now!” tiffany exclaimed, rushing to the door to greet him.

as soon as y/n and johanna caught up to the escort, the door opened, revealing jay with a tired smile on his face. sweat stuck his loose hair to his forehead and his chest puffed with each breath he took.

“darling, you were outstanding!” tiffany squealed, patting him on the back. “just wonderful! the sponsors should be piling in as we speak!”

“nice job, jay,” johanna complimented. “i liked the part where you dropped the axe on the foot.”

jay chuckled, giving the mentor a playful glare. his eyes shifted to y/n, who was already smiling with pride.

“you did amazing, jay,” she said, causing him to grin.

“thanks, y/n. you did well, too.”

“now, wash up, children! i don’t want this apartment to be reeking of sweat!” tiffany ordered, prancing off to the kitchen. “and remember that they will broadcast the results this evening!”

after an afternoon of resting, a hearty dinner, and a lighthearted sunset watch, the district 7 team sat around the television screen, patiently waiting for their results. caesar flickerman held a rare serious expression on his face as he relayed all the information off of his cards.

the room was filled with a thick silence with everyone sitting perfectly still. the anticipation grew every minute as everyone watched eagerly, paying close attention to the other tributes' scores. per usual, the careers scored high, with the district 2 male scoring an eleven. y/n chewed on her bottom lip, the worry at the back of her mind beginning to grow.

there was less than 48 hours before she would be in the arena, fighting against each and every one of the tributes displayed on the screen.

once the district 6 tributes' results finished up, y/n could feel her heart beating unbelievably fast. it was the first time a test result could determine life or death for her, and the tension in her body came to an all-time high.

as caesar flickerman changed his cards, y/n felt a hand creep towards hers, gently intertwining their fingers. she turned to her left, spotting jay mouthing an "it's okay" to her. her chest heaved as she tried to calm herself down, forcing herself to breathe slower.

jay gave her a quick nod before facing the screen once again. "from district 7, y/n l/n..."

y/n whipped her head to the screen, not blinking once as the world stilled around her. she could feel herself squeeze jay's hand tighter, holding her breath for a single moment.

"...with a score of six."

she released the breath she was holding, relaxing her grip on jay's hand. she could feel johanna pat her shoulder in approval. "that was very average, y/n. an exact 50%."

a part of y/n was glad that she would be able to escape the careers' watch, but another part of her was worried about receiving little support from sponsors. but she chose to not fret about that as she flinched at how strongly jay held onto her hand.

she glanced at him, realizing that it was the first time she saw jay so visibly anxious. the typically calm and laid-back boy was now tense and nervous, a light sweat forming on his forehead. she could feel his palms grow clammy as he clutched her hand tighter, awaiting his results.

"and from district 7, jay park...with a score of eight."

cheers erupted from the room, a delightful squeal coming from tiffany. "jay, darling, you are spectacular!" she gushed, clasping her gloved hands together.

"great job, jay," johanna said with a nod. "but you'll have to be careful now. you're on par with the careers, which means that you've spiked their interest."

"nice job, jay!" y/n exclaimed, taking his hand into both of hers. he grinned and replied, "yours was good, too."

"well, all that's left for you two is to charm the audience tomorrow!" tiffany cheered, standing up. "rest well and wake up early! i will teach you all the interview etiquette you need to know!"

"and don't get too comfortable with each other!" johanna sternly teased. "you are on a survival show, not a dating show."

as they shared the final laughs of the night and prepared for bed, y/n couldn't help but ponder over her mentor's words. what johanna said rang true, even if it was intended to be a lighthearted joke. in the end, they were competitors in a game, even competition for each other.

she climbed into her bed, burying herself underneath the lush covers. she knew it was wrong for her to think about anything other than survival, especially when her inevitable death was approaching extremely fast. so why did her heart beat so fast when he touched her? why was she so unbelievably comfortable with someone she had just began considering a friend four days ago?

why was jay on her mind every night as she fell asleep, worrying about the games?

the eve of the hunger games. y/n stood in line, right behind the district 6 male tribute. she shifted her weight, watching the interviews commence from the screen backstage.

her stylist chose to dress her in a cream chiffon gown, the torso embellished with pearls and yellow topaz. her shoulder straps were loosely draped with layers of chiffon strung together. gold droplet earrings and a thin, double-layered gold necklace accented her ears and neckline. her hair was tied up elegantly, bound with matching gold ribbons. her eyeliner was drawn with gold glittery liquid, two yellow gemstones glued right underneath her lower eyelids. she shifted once more, balancing on her gold stilettos cuffed to her ankles.

the district 6 tribute in front of her peeked over her shoulder, throwing her a sultry grin. "looking good, seven," he commented, adjusting his black tie.

before y/n could respond with a snarky remark of her own, a hand was placed on her shoulder as she felt the heat from a body close to hers.

"i suggest you turn back around, six," the voice of jay, now sarcastic and brooding, spoke out. "your interview is starting."

as the slightly flustered tribute entered the stage, y/n faced jay, now realizing exactly how close they were. his face was mere centimeters from hers, a firm stare in his eyes.

unlike her, jay was clad in a sleek all-black suit, with gold cuffs and a gold handkerchief in his breast pocket. his hair was styled into a comma, eyebrows brushed and sleek, and ears adorned with multiple gold studs and loops. his eyes were painted with the same gold eyeliner as y/n and his fingers were wrapped with gold rings.

she could feel the heat from his breath, smell the subtle scent of his body wash, and hear the low beating of his heart. the hand on her exposed shoulder dropped, causing her to look up at him. he had taken a step back, repositioning himself in the line.

"you good?" he asked, a concerned expression on his face.

"yeah...i'm okay," she mumbled, turning back around.

she stood still, trying to calm the clamoring in her heart. she fanned herself with her hands, cooling down the heat spreading on her face. to others, it looked like she was flustered to be next on stage. but she knew that the fluttering in her stomach was for a completely different reason.

the audience applauded as the district 6 male finished up his interview, taking a large bow before leaving the stage. caesar flickerman laughed loudly and faced the cameras, microphone right underneath his chin.

"now, district 7, with gorgeous outfits for gorgeous tributes. let's hear it for y/n l/n, seventeen from the seventh district!"

y/n inhaled sharply before stepping into the spotlight, flashing a bright smile as she waved to the audience. the cheers grew louder with each step she took, shaking hands with caesar before sitting down in the interviewee's chair.

she sat with one leg crossed over the other and hands placed on her top knee, just like tiffany instructed her to. "welcome, y/n!" caesar exclaimed with a grin. "how are you liking the capitol?"

"it's very different from home, that's for sure," she responded with a light nod. "i have to say, the fashion here is quite extraordinary. never could i have imagined that i'd be wearing a ballroom gown, talking to a man with bright-red hair in front of the whole nation."

caesar paused for a moment, touching his said hair. "are you talking about me?"

"yes, i'm talking about you, caesar," y/n replied with a laugh.

the host let out a hearty chuckle, causing the audience to laugh along. "now, speaking of home," he continued, leaning towards the tribute. "is there anyone special back there? someone you're interested in? there has to be someone interested in you--who wouldn't fall for this stunning smile?"

y/n felt her smile falter as the audience cheered at the comment. caesar's question suddenly reminded her of the boy back at home, most likely watching the broadcast while he worked late hours to provide for his family. how could she forget? the day he ended their relationship, right before she got pulled into the games. she realized that the days she spent in the capitol were void of ethan, her mind completely focused on training and the day she was dreading.

and maybe a different boy, too.

but caesar's question caused her to swallow thickly, feeling guilty for forgetting about him. the boy she promised her heart to, the one who gave her his love seconds before they were ripped apart.

"well...uh..."

she found herself unable to think of a straight answer. "there...there's this boy..."

caesar hummed, egging her on. "he's the most wonderful person ever, kind and caring, a complete family man," she added, a smile forming as she thought about ethan. "he always prioritized others before himself. took care of his siblings when his parents couldn't. made sure to ask me if i ate even when he had no food."

but the smile didn't last long, soon dropping before she continued, "but we ended things before the reaping because he thought he was going to be reaped. he didn't want me hanging onto him if he died in the arena."

a dry chuckle escaped her lips. "but here i am, standing here instead of him. i guess things didn't turn out the way we expected them to."

caesar had a pitiful expression on his face as the audience cooed, some sniffling in the crowd. "i'm sorry about that," he said, placing his hand on top of hers. "i wish you the best of luck in the hunger games."

"thanks, caesar," y/n replied, shooting him a small smile.

"well, there we have it, ladies and gentlemen," the host concluded, helping her stand up. "from district 7, the brave and courageous y/n l/n!"

he raised her hand, letting y/n take in all the applause as the crowd stood and cheered. she left momentarily afterwards, welcoming herself into tiffany's arms backstage.

"darling, you did amazing," she said, rubbing her shoulders soothingly. y/n knew why tiffany was reacting this way but chose not to speak, appreciating the moment of comfort the escort provided her.

she escaped her arms, stepping closer to the screen backstage to watch jay's interview. he was already on stage, seated next to caesar with a charming smile.

"so jay, tell me, how is it that such an attractive man is sitting here right next to me? hm? do tell."

jay chuckled at the host's comment. "well, i'm just alright. but if you insist, i think it must be the brows."

"no need to be humble, jay. but are my red eyebrows as dashing as yours?" caesar questioned, raising his brows repeatedly. "if i'm being honest, i think mine are better." the audience howled with laughter, causing both jay and caesar to join with the crowd.

"now, tell me," the host continued. "do you have a special someone? our gorgeous district 7 tributes surely do not lack in the beauty department, do they folks?"

the audience cheered as a soft smile formed on jay's face. "look at him! jay park, with the jawline and the muscles! surely you had admirers back home, didn't you?"

jay chuckled again before speaking, "well, caesar, i wasn't really that desirable-"

"humble again," caesar interrupted by fake-whispering to the audience, inducing more laughter from the crowd.

"-but i did have my eyes on this girl from home," jay finished, piquing the host's interest. "oh! do tell."

"she's from the same neighborhood as me," jay added. "actually, we're next door neighbors."

the audience gasped with excitement and shock. but y/n froze, eyes never leaving the screen backstage. she knew that no one in the capitol knew they were next door neighbors--nobody except for y/n and jay themselves.

"i wish i could've talked to her more before i left, but i was reaped unexpectedly," jay said with a frown.

caesar matched the frown on the tribute's face. "well, you go out and win those games, and you tell her how you feel when you get home, okay?"

jay awkwardly smiled, responding with a small, "okay."

"ladies and gentlemen, the charismatic jay park from district 7!" caesar finished, triggering cheering and applause from the audience.

y/n watched as he exited the stage, approaching where she was standing with their team. tiffany immediately sauntered up to him, patting him on the back. "marvelous, darling! you answered so well!"

jay shot a weak smile at the escort before meeting y/n's eyes, already knowing that she figured it out. he quickly left backstage, heading towards the elevator to go to their apartment.

but y/n followed him, narrowly squeezing into the elevator just before its doors closed. jay gulped, avoiding her eyes as she stepped closer to him, leaning against the glass windows.

"jay," she began, softening her voice. "was...was that about-"

"yes."

he locked his gaze with hers, clenching his jaw tightly. "it was about you."

y/n's eyebrows furrowed, parting her lips to speak. "but-"

"i'm sorry that i feel this way and i completely understand if you don't feel the same," jay interrupted. "but nothing is going to change how i feel. i know that one of us will die, or maybe even both of us. but i can't help it."

the elevator dinged, its doors opening to the seventh floor. jay exited, followed by y/n, not turning around to look at her as he stopped at the entrance of their apartment. "i have feelings for you, y/n. and i know i shouldn't be having them when we're fighting against death in less than 24 hours."

"jay, wait-"

he opened their apartment door, immediately leaving her at the foyer as he made a beeline to his room. the loud slamming of his door echoed around the apartment, making an obvious statement to y/n.

y/n could barely force herself to sleep last night. with the hunger games dawning upon her and jay's words ringing in her ears, she spent most of her night tossing and turning under the covers.

but as she sat in the jet, transporting her to the arena with a tracker in her arm, she realized that the one event she dreaded most was finally happening. there was no turning back--the games were about to begin.

johanna led her to her tube in the launch room, brushing off her brown jacket seconds before the tributes had to be ready. y/n's hair was tied up away from her face, sporting a cropped vest of armor and black cargo pants under her long track jacket.

"remember, avoid being lured into the cornucopia but grab anything nearby," her mentor advised, straightening the collar of the jacket. "and find a source of water and food as early as possible. burn out all fires before it gets dark and make sure to hide well."

johanna paused, placing her hands on y/n's shoulders. "and please, stay alive. i believe in you."

y/n nodded. "thanks for everything, johanna."

the mentor smiled, a hint of uneasiness in her face. "they'll start the countdown soon. don't jump off the pedestal early, or they'll blow your guts out."

y/n stepped inside the launch tube, watching as the glass door swiveled around to a close. she felt the ground beneath her rise as johanna waved goodbye to her, causing y/n to smile sadly back.

she turned her head upwards, squinting her eyes as the dark space flooded with light. her tube stopped moving, locking into place as a burning heat overwhelmed her body. she scanned the arena, her heart beating faster than ever.

"the countdown begins now. 60..."

it was a ruined city. all rubble and dry concrete. the sunlight was pelting on them like a fire, breaking the tributes out into a sweat. a single pillar, chipped at some of the edges, was surrounded by backpacks and weapons alike. some of the supplies were spread out, varying in locations across the cornucopia.

"...45..."

y/n noticed a backpack a couple of meters away from her. she locked her eyes on it, planning to grab it before running.

"...30..."

she blinked harshly, the dryness of the heat getting to her eyes. she noticed jay several pedestals away from her, already looking at her.

"...20..."

her hands were already sweaty and shaking from both the anxiety and heat. but jay's eyes comforted her, slightly relaxing the stress in her body. it was as if all the tension from last night between them evaporated into thin air.

"...10..."

she felt her chest heaving, struggling to breathe from the rapid beating in her chest and the dust in the air.

"...9..."

she closed her eyes, trying to calm herself down.

"...8..."

she inhaled slowly and took her time to exhale.

"...7..."

she opened her eyes, adjusting her eyes to the bright sun again.

"...6..."

she eyed the backpack in front of her, feeling her heart racing even more.

"...5..."

she looked at jay, who was preparing to run.

"...4..."

he met her stare, their eyes locking with each other.

"...3..."

she mouthed a "stay alive."

"...2..."

he nodded as his lips said, "you too."

"...1..."

within the end of a second, the 73rd hunger games had begun.

taglist: @kpopstanmeg @kyunlov

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rubyreduji · 10 months

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➥ 1.5k, smut ➥ you and jihoon work out together, and nothing inappropriate happens

★ music to my ears

➥ 1.7k, smut ➥ the walls in jihoon’s apartment are a little too thin, but maybe that’s not a bad thing

★ boyfriends

➥ 5.6k, fluff, ft. soonyoung ➥ you ask your producer out. too bad he already has a boyfriend, or is it?

★ reading and doing

➥ 2.3k, smut ➥ jihoon catches you reading fanfic about him

★ wedding crashers

➥ 2.7k, fluff ➥ your ex-boyfriend is getting married. you crash his wedding with your best friend

★ of boobs and bases 🎸

➥ 13.3k, smut ➥ jihoon gets to meet his favorite rockstar, things only go up from there

★ boyfie

➥ smau one-shot, fluff ➥ you might most definitely have the most perfect boyfie ever

★ timeless 🎸

➥ 10.3k, fluff, romance ➥ you’ve just met jihoon, yet something about him feels familiar

★ the witches in the woods

➥ 1.7k, fluff, witch!au ➥ being a witch and a witch hunter is not always the easier, having to keep your two identities separate, but it’s the job you have to do to keep from your crush finding out

★ ahegao and arousal

➥ 3.6k, smut ➥ jihoon just wanted to have a nice night watching anime with you, how was he supposed to know the show he picked was a hentai?

jihoon x nude model reader (smut)

ceo woozi x employee reader (smut)

ceo woozi x employee reader pt. 2 (smut)

sitting in woozi’s lap (fluff)

she got the ruby (smut)

nsfw woozi thoughts (smut)

passenger princess jihoon (fluff)

dilf jihoon x daughter’s best friend reader (smut)

childhood best friends to lovers (fluff)

street racer thoughts (smut)

street racer thoughts 2 (smut)

blue hoodie woozi excerpt (fluff)

dating idol woozi (fluff)

nipple piercing sub!woozi (smut)

#rubyreduji #masterlist #lee jihoon #woozi #woozi fanfic #woozi masterlist #seventeen #seventeen fanfic

213 notes · View notes

sequinsmile-x · 24 days

Note

Can you write a fic where Emily is pregnant, and she feels the baby move for the first time but panics something is wrong because she'd already lost a baby previously?? She doesn't know whats happening and the new sensation immediately freaks her out. Kind of like Meredith in Greys.

hiii bestie! Of course - I love this idea.

This fic takes my word count on Ao3 over 2 million words. 2 MILLION WORDS OF HOTCHNISS. That is wild, and bonkers and just...a true testament to my brain being nothing other than a desk covered in an unending pile of ideas vaguely organised into stacks.

I am writing a fic (a Hunger Games AU) that is as unhinged as the thing it is celebrating haha, so keep an eye out for that, but for now I just want to say thanks for being here, thanks for always being so supportive of my work, and....heres to the next 2 million I guess.

-x-

Flutter

Pregnancy had been rough on her since the start.

AKA the one where Emily feels a new sensation in her pregnancy and panics, but Aaron knows exactly what it is.

-x-

Words: 2k

Warnings: pregnancy, references to previous miscarriage

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily sighs contentedly as she settles into her seat on the jet, excited that they are finally heading home after a long case. She was exhausted, tired in a way that she hadn’t thought was possible, and her plan for the five-hour trip home was to sleep.

“Are you okay sweetheart?”

She smiles sleepily as she turns to look at her husband, “I’m okay,” she says, placing her hand on her bump, “Your kid is sucking the life out of me,” she says, raising her eyebrow as her smile becomes wry, “But I’m okay.”

Pregnancy had been rough on her since the start. Her nausea in her first trimester had hit her hard and fast, leaving her unable to keep anything but water and the plainest possible food down. It felt like everything, not just food, triggered it - including Aaron’s cologne that she’d always loved. He’d stopped using it the moment she told him, even going as far as showering immediately to wash away any remnants, aware that his wife loved to snuggle with him when she didn’t feel well.

He’d been everything she could have ever hoped for in a partner during this. Kind and attentive and always aware of her needs, sometimes even before she was. He bordered on overprotective a lot, but she did nothing except raise her eyebrow at him every time he yelled at Derek for eating breakfast sandwiches in front of her that would make her gag. She’s sure as she gets further along, it would drive her crazy, that she’d end up yelling at him when he went what she deemed too far in his quest to protect her and their unborn child, but for now, she let it slide.

This was something they’d both waited for, both wanted so much, and she couldn’t imagine being mad at him for wanting to look after them.

She’d been pregnant once before. They’d only been trying for a couple of months when she felt slightly off and took a test, her eyes wide as she gripped the positive test in her hands. They’d been excited, overjoyed at the prospect of making their family bigger. They’d huddled together in the armchair in their bedroom that morning, both of their palms on her still flat belly, talking about their plans for the future.

Their joy had been shortlived. It was only a couple of weeks later when Emily started to notice cramping, a discomfort that was mild at first and got worse very quickly. By the time they made it to the hospital, she knew what the doctor was going to say, her hand tight around Aaron’s as they had confirmation that she had miscarried. She’d walked out of that hospital with a broken dream and a plastic bag full of medication she’d taken once before. They were pills she’d taken in secret in the Embassy in Rome, as opposed to the comfort of her own home, her husband by her side as she helped her body along with the process it had started by itself.

There was still joy when she found out she was pregnant this time. Still an unrelenting type of happiness she would have once said was beyond her, but it was quickly chased by fear. An anxiety she still couldn’t shift even though she was 19 weeks along now.

She knew Aaron was anxious too, which was why he was overprotective, wanting to do everything he could to keep her and the baby safe. It’s why she let him talk her into not leaving the precinct when they were away on cases weeks, and why she’d already agreed to stop going on cases altogether when she hits her third trimester.

Aaron chuckles softly and leans in to press a kiss to her forehead and he puts his hand over hers on her stomach, linking their fingers together, “Why don’t you try and get some sleep on the way home?”

She hums and shifts in her seat, her hand still on her bump, “I’m going to try,” she yawns and rests her head on his shoulder, her eyes drifting shut, “I hope you don’t mind me using you as a pillow.”

He smiles again, seemingly undeterred by the fact the team were all within listening distance, that Derek and Dave were sitting opposite them, fascinated by this relatively rare insight into what they were like when they were just Aaron and Emily, as opposed to Hotch and Prentiss.

“It’s what I was made for sweetheart,” he says, kissing the top of her head, and she smiles, pressing her cheek further into his jacket.

She hears a barely covered snicker from the other side of the table and she feels Aaron tense. She never wanted him to feel embarrassed for how much he loved her, never wanted him to feel ashamed. She kicks out and smiles when her foot connects with Derek’s shin.

“I didn’t even say anything,” he complains, and he's frowning when she peels her eyes open to look at him.

“You were thinking it,” she grumbles, wrapping both of her arms around one of Aarons as she snuggles back down, her eyes closing again, “Pregnant and half asleep or not I’ll still kick your ass.”

Aaron places his hand over one of hers and squeezes, “Go to sleep, Em. I’ll wake you up just before we land.”

She falls asleep before the plane even leaves the tarmac.

___

She feels groggy when she wakes up, like she’s slept not enough and entirely too much all at once. Aaron insists that she waits in the car for him as they deplane, and she doesn’t have it in her to argue with him when he says he’ll bring her bag to the car.

She yawns as she pulls the visor down to check her reflection in the mirror and she winces, horrified to learn she looked as tired as she feels. She places her hand on her bump and leans back in her seat, flipping the visor back up.

“You’d better be cute,” she grumbles, rubbing a circle on her stomach, a smile spreading across her face, “Who am I kidding, of course you’re going to be cute.”

That’s when she feels it. A strange sensation rolling through her belly, a fluttering that is enough to make her freeze, her eyes wide as she stops breathing for a second, waiting for it to happen again. It does, and she feels familiar panic start to spread through her, chasing the feeling away like a harsh winter breeze. She immediately feels nauseous, bile climbing up her throat as she convinces herself something is wrong with her baby, that she’d got too comfortable, too safe in her happiness that she’d somehow let something slip.

She jumps slightly when the driver's door opens and Aaron climbs in, but she remains frozen in place apart from that, both of her hands on her belly.

“I was thinking we could pick dinner up on the way home,” he says, pulling the door closed behind him, “Do you still want chicken nuggets…” He drifts off when he looks at her and panic flashes through him, he reaches out and touches her cheek, gently encouraging her to look at him, “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

She blows out a breath, tears she hates pressing at the back of her eyes as she shakes her head, “I don’t know. I felt something…I don’t know what I felt,” she says, speaking so uncharacteristically quickly he worries she might choke, her words strangled by tears, “I think something is wrong.”

He has to swallow down the fear that threatens to climb up his throat as he looks at her stomach, the way she’s got both hands on it as if she’s trying to protect their child from whatever she’s felt. He could feel whatever he needed to feel later, right now she needed him to be the strong one when it was so often the other way around.

“Sweetheart,” he says, catching a tear on her cheek and pushing it away, “Tell me what you felt, okay?” He says calmly, hoping his smile is reassuring, “And we’ll go from there.”

She growls in frustration, more aimed at herself than anything else, hating the fact pregnancy had entirely removed her ability to control her emotions, “I don’t know how to explain it,” she grumbles, her lips pressing together in an attempt to stop her chin from trembling, “It felt like…maybe gas bubbles I guess? Or like a swirling sensation. What if something is wrong? I can’t lose-”

“Em,” he says, cutting her off, reaching for one of her hands and linking it with his, a bubble of relief popping in his chest, making him relax a little, “Did it feel like butterflies in your stomach? Like a fluttering sensation?”

She sniffs and pauses for a moment as she thinks about it, and she then nods, tears splashing down onto her cheeks, “Yeah,” she says, clearing her throat, “Yeah it did feel like that.”

He can’t help the smile that spreads across his face, a conversation he’d had with Haley years ago coming to mind. She’d sat next to him in bed, describing in detail how it felt when Jack moved inside of her, her smile teasing as he lamented that he couldn’t feel anything on the outside yet. It felt like a crossroads in his life, a moment from his past colliding with his present, the lessons she’d learnt whilst loving Haley always coming into play whilst loving Emily.

“That’s the baby moving,” he says, lifting their joint hands and kissing her knuckles, “What you felt is our baby moving, sweetheart.”

She just stares at him as he repeats himself, his words not sinking in as she looks down at her bump, “Wh…what?” She looks up at him, her eyes slightly wild, still not entirely convinced that the perceived danger was over yet, “How do you know that?”

He reaches out and tucks some of her hair behind her ear, “That’s how Haley always described it to me,” he says, his smile soft and wistful, “Like a butterfly flapping its wings,” his smile gets wider as he chuckles, “Until of course he got bigger and she started comparing Jack to a soccer player.”

Emily laughs, the sound catching on a sob as she shakes her head, “Well, he is a good mid-fielder,” she says, wiping tears from her cheeks, “So the baby’s okay?”

He nods, “We’ll keep an eye on things obviously, if you feel any pain or have any bleeding we’ll go straight to the hospital,” he leans forward and stamps his lips against hers, “But yes, the baby is okay. They are just saying hi.”

She chuckles and shakes her head and rubs a firm circle on her stomach, relief spreading through her so quickly she feels lightheaded.

“Hi baby,” she says, almost willing to feel the movement again, to be able to enjoy it without feeling the fear that she’d immediately fallen into, “We’re so looking forward to meeting you.”

Aaron kisses her again before he leans over the centre console and kisses her bump, “And if you think Mommy is protective now, just you wait until you wait until you’re here.”

Emily narrows her eyes playfully as he pulls back, “What did you say?”

“I said I’m taking you and baby for some chicken nuggets,” he says, smiling at her as he clips his seatbelt into place and starts the car.

“That’s what I thought,” she hums and places her hand on his as he places his on her thigh, squeezing gratefully, hoping she could put everything she never quite found the words for into the touch, her love for him seeping from her skin into his.

A week later, when they find out they are having a son, Emily watches in fascination as their little boy's movements on the screen match up in real time with the fluttering she feels beneath her skin.

-x-

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#hotchniss #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #aaron hotchner #hotchniss fanfic #emily prentiss fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotchniss fan fic #hotchniss fanfiction #aaron x emily #emily prentiss

58 notes · View notes

97keanu · 9 months

Text

"ᵒʰ ᵐᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ⁱ ᶜᵃⁿ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵒⁱˡ

ᶠᵃˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵐʸ ʰᵉᵃᵈ

ˢᵉᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵉᵃ ʷᵃⁿᵗˢ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵐᵉ

ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵉᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏⁿⁱᶠᵉ ʷᵃⁿᵗˢ ᵗᵒ ˢˡⁱᵗ ᵐᵉ

ᵈᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ʰᵉˡᵖ ᵐᵉ﹖

ⁱ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁱᵗˢ ᵒᵛᵉʳ

ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ⁱ ᶜˡⁱⁿᵍ

ⁱ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᵉˡˢᵉ ⁱ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵍᵒ..."

Sandbox Love Never Dies

Dave Lizewski x Demonic!Reader (Jennifer's Body AU)

Premise: In this chapter, reader becomes the god she was always destined to be. She does something she shouldn't, and ends up on Dave's doorstep, the only place she has ever known to go to for help. Dave is completely horrified from the night events, but still cares for reader. Some cannon from JB divergence, maybe this way we can find a happy ending. Either way, the horror is starting to settle in with this chapter, please mind the tags and authors note!

Words: 4.5k

Read chapter one here // be added to the tag list for this fic here

Tags/CW: reader death(and rebirth), side character death implied but spared the gorey details, blood, gore, angst, drama, shared trauma, hurt/comfort, nurse Dave, bath scene, Dave helps reader bathe, Dave and reader end up in some pretty good fluff at the end.

Author's Note: this chapter was really interesting to write as the horror part of this au starts to become more prevelant, but if you are squimish to any of the above CW's the please be mindful when reading. As mentioned, there is a character death in this chapter, but I opted to skip an in depth scene of what happens, but if you've seen JB you should get what's going on. If any of that is confusing, let me know! This chapter is under the cut <3 P.S. this song really fits this chapter, so give it a listen ʚ♥︎ɞ

The sky looms, limitless, an endless expanse of stars over this world. A cruel world where girls too young are tied, roped, adjusted as such to the top of a natural stone used as a sacrificial table. The sky has a million eyes and they're all on you tonight, Snowflake Queen, as your heavy breathing remains still human just yet. The omnipresent dark that covers the earth nightly is just as restrained as you are, helpless to stop what will soon happen.

You can almost feel the same pit of darkness as the sky open up in your stomach, blood running out as stupid men play stupid games with ritualistic consequences. All you can do is scream, the sound falling on deaf ears of the woods that envelope the scene.

You find yourself as cold and limitless as the sky as your human body is ruined. The assailants laugh, crack jokes, and sing songs as their blood pumps to the idea of fame and fortune being theirs. As you go still, they figure the job is over, throwing away any evidence into Devil's Kettle, the rushing, hungry mouth of the waterfall that eats all it's given, never to return. They don't even bother to give you a second look as they leave. You can feel the chill of death take you, your breath leaving, leaving, leaving. Never to return as yours.

Then, you feel something else.

You feel something move inside your broken body, breathing life into your lungs that had just barely stopped its function. You can feel it, black, slimey, crawling down your throat and slipping into that pit of your stomach, but not filling it. No, it sits there like a creature, a parasite, that only adds to the emptiness, that begs as much hunger as the rushing waterfall, it growls with animalistic hunger, the sound rushing out of your mouth as you try to scream.

You aren't even sure what happened next, your eyes focused on all the little pinpricks of light in the sky that disappear if you look directly at them for too long. What you do remember is the crunching of bone as you escape your restraints, then the sound of it going back into place, your wounds closing, your body changing, a darkness filling your veins.

You're different, maybe even better, than before.

The next thing you come to realize is how your body finds itself breaking into a run, stumbling through the tree line and seeing the still smoldering Melody Lane Tavern. The fire seems vague and so far away to you now, like another life. The corpse of the building is still illuminated in red and blue, so you decide to walk away from there. As you do, on your path you see someone.

The shape in the dark is walking with hunched shoulders, holding itself, and shivering. You watch, curious. As you approach, the familiar face begins to connect in your fuzzy brain.

"Marty?" Your voice croaks out, still so tired from what's happened.

Marty turns to you, he's completely out of it, but upon seeing a familiar face looks weakly hopefully.

"You're alive…" You say to him, he can barely speak after what's happened tonight. As you look at him, and see the thin dribbles of blood fall from his head, that pit inside you opens up farther than before. You feel a low growl wanting to escape your lips. Something about that blood is making you so hungry it's taking over your already clouded mind.

"Does anyone know you're here, Marty?" You say, almost as a puppet, the hunger speaking for you. Marty can only shake his head, and you can almost feel the world go back for what happens next.

The only thing you remember later is flashes, you can't think about it too much, the humanity in you is still on the surface since the transformation. No, you don't want to talk about what you did to Marty.

You do, however, know that the only thing you feel after is euphoric. You are coated with the blood of this endless nightmare, stumbling about the dark, wet blacktop roads. You barely register the headlights aimed for you, and you know that even if you were struck by a car, you're invincible right now. You drank the blood, and now you're a god.

✧

Dave can't stop shaking. He feels like his stomach might cave in, and he can hardly believe any of tonight happened. He can still see you, dazed, glassy eyed and being pulled into those fuckers van. His muscles tighten just thinking about it, and he feels like he throw a punch for one of the first times in his life.

He's so worried about you, he has no idea what to even do, but he knows something is wrong. As he and Katie were caught in the hectic aftermath of the fire, the police just starting to show up, he felt something that made him double over in the grass. It was as if his stomach had been slit, he could feel it so vividly, practically sense your pain as much as you felt it. All he could do was writhe in the grass, begging Katie to help him, and not let anyone want to try to keep him here longer. No, he didn't need medical attention, he just needed to get home. He needed somewhere he could be safe, somewhere he could maybe try to think of saving you.

Katie, despite how little she's known Dave, actually came through, and helped Dave get to his feet. Despite the pain, they made it to Dave's car without anyone trying to stop them. Katie was happy to help Dave, but she was terrified for Erika, who hasn't been spotted yet. Because of this, while she has positioned Dave in the driver's seat, she tells him she has to stay, look for Erika. Dave understands, and they share a look.

Dave knows all too well how she's feeling right now. That's exactly how he feels about you. He gives her a nod, as if to say 'go to her', and after Katie leaves, Dave takes his own advice.

He starts the car and begins to drive, his head feeling still filled with the smoke from the fire, smoggy and clouded from the night's trauma. He feels so strange, physically. He had felt the immense pain, but now all he feels is numb. His whole body is cold, and that scares him more than the pain. You have to be alive to feel pain, this numbness…"god…please don't let it mean that…".

Dave lets himself drive in almost dazed state, the small town is quiet at this time of night, and no one has been seen on the road since he got away from Melody Lane's chaos. In fact, it's so eerily desolate. The cold, wet night glistening off the road. Dave takes his eyes off the road for a moment, to turn on the heat in the car, the shivering cold and numbness reaching a breaking point inside him, it's so strong.

When he looks back at the road, he practically screams, the terror rising and catching in his throat, he hits the brakes as hard as possible. His headlights flood a figure with a brightness that blocks out half their shape. But what he catches before the person runs, impossibly fast, makes his spit run thin. That puffy white jacket, those piercing eyes, all that blood….

Dave can barely shake himself free of what he's seen, but now he's sitting here, all alone, that numbing feeling drifting away. It's all he can do, so he finishes his drive home.

When he returns home, he can barely move his body, the pain of tonight already setting in as the adrenaline cools and thickens inside him. Dave is just so tired. He weakly goes inside, his dad is likely well asleep, maybe a bottle in. Despite feeling like tonight's events should be 'wake your parent up out of a drunken stupor' worthy, Dave trudges up the stairs to his attic room. As he opens the door, the intense numbing feeling brushes past him once again, and he braces himself.

Inside, you sit on his floor, bloody and clothes torn, completely dazed.

Dave cannot describe how it feels to see you, he is shocked, but the relief of having you here, with him, not with those horrible men, washes over him so intensely that his knees almost give out.

"Oh my god…" Dave doesn't even feel like he's saying it, but the words fall from his mouth. He rushes to your side, falling next to you, and gripping your arms through your jacket. "You're alive…I thought…"

You're still so dazed, but your eyes slowly drag over to Dave. Your mouth is crusted with blood that's not yours, god, if Dave knew from whom it came from he would never forgive you. Besides that, you can hardly understand what compelled you, in this new form, to come here. Old habits die hard, you suppose. You also have a feeling that absolutely terrifies you when Dave comes so close.

As much as you felt something similar when you saw Marty, this is different. You feel as if the hunger inside you isn't an overwhelming coldness, no it's not the need to fill that numb spot within you. It's different. A blazing fire. It builds, your stomach set ablaze and filled with a want and a yearning that is so strong. You eye Dave with a hunger that goes well beyond the need to eat, no, this isn't sustenance, it's a want for him, all of him.

You can just imagine, pulling him up from the floor, dragging him to his bed, and your weight and power on top of him. You can just imagine his innocent eyes as you can't decide whether to fuck him or sink your teeth into him. Just the thought of sliding his cock into you while you do both, tasting him, his neck in your mouth, the submission as he allows you to take him, all of him…

Dave has to reach up and gently grab your chin, focusing your attention on him. You didn't even realize a low growl had started forming, deep within your chest as you thought about consuming Dave. You also notice he had been talking while you imagined this, and feel a mixture of disgust and lust.

"What happened…?" Is all he can say at this point, you seem completely broken, and he can sense that your energy is different even if he doesn't acknowledge that he does. You don't respond, for a long moment, your thoughts a haze of trying to ignore the budding hunger inside of you, and remembering how to be, well, human. Even if you couldn't articulate it now, you knew you were not like Dave anymore, not at all. You aren't really sure what you are, or everything it entails, but you know for sure if you don't keep your hunger in check…you don't even want to think about what could happen, the guilt from your still fresh humanity filling your veins with a chill.

"Dave…can you…can you please just help me up…" You start, your voice is dry and tired. Dave doesn't even question, he simply stands and holds out his hands, those large hands you've dreamed about touching you. You realize how cold your hands are to his nice, warm, human hands. He swiftly pulls you up, and you wobble, his hands there to steady you at the waist.

You're so close when you look up at him. He wasn't always this tall, you remember when you were kids, and you used to tease him about how he was shorter than you. You're almost certain that it was around the time he gained an inch, that one defining inch, above you, that's about when you started to fall in love with him. It wasn't so much that his being taller did something to you to change your feelings on him, no, it was more of the fact that after that, you guys slowly became more than just schoolyard mates. Even if you would never admit those feelings that fluttered at the worst times. Right now, is one of them. If you could blush, you would be right now, Dave's big blue eyes look at you with concern and worry. Of course, Nurse Dave as always, here to patch up your bloody knees just like when you were kids.

Right now, it's a bit more than a scrap on the knee. Dave doesn't know if he should even be keeping you here, if all that blood is yours, well, he should take you to the hospital, right? You seem so pale, so fragile as he slowly takes over the situation, no longer time for questioning any of this.

"Here, let's go to the bathroom…" He says softly, guiding you to his en suite. It's small, dimly lit by a yellowing bulb, and messy in a way that teenage boys always seem to make. He gently picks you up, and for a moment, you're surprised at how strong Dave is. You don't remember when he got to be so strong. He sets you on the sink counter, which has ample room for you, and begins by taking your puffy, once white, jacket off.

"What are you…?" You start, still out of it.

"You just…" Dave seems embarrassed for a moment as he continues to undress you, but his eyebrows pull together, determined for your own safety. "I need to see what happened, you're bleeding so much…"

Dave's hands begin to shake as he notices underneath your jacket there is a large hole in your shirt. He has to steady himself, he has no idea how bad the wound is, and as he keeps looking at the shirt he notices more and more holes, the blood making it so hard to see what exactly is going on.

"Did…oh my god…did you get stabbed?" Dave has to take his glasses off for a moment just to make sure he's seeing this all correctly. There's no way you could even be standing, let alone at his door if these truly are stab wounds. He reaches out gingerly, his fingers barely tracing a hole that goes directly over your heart, and pulls his hand back in fear of that hole leading to a wound in your body. You don't respond to his question, way too tired and focused on fighting your own hunger to be talking much right now.

"Okay, we need this off…" Dave says quickly, any embarrassment for seeing you in your bra overtaken by how scared he is about what he will see on your body. He gently, but effectively takes your shirt off, a lacy white bra underneath, soaked in blood. Dave looks you over, the blood is slick on your body, starting to turn darker shades of red and brown now as it begins to dry, but what he realizes is that as his fingers explore your body all he feels is softness. His fingers even trace to that spot, right over your heart, moving away blood that slicks his fingers, and all he finds is smooth, soft skin underneath. No wounds.

"This…this isn't your blood?" He almost scoffs the words out, in disbelief. By the looks of you when you came in he thought…well, he doesn't really even know what he thought, but he was sure you were in much worse shape. You catch his eyes when he asks, and shake your head wearily. Dave lets out a sigh of relief that expels so much stress he can barely breathe in again when he's done.

"Holy shit…God…you had me so worried there…" He could almost scream, but instead he does something neither of you expected. His strong arms grab you, pulling you close, almost off the counter, and into his chest. He puts his head right against your tangled, blood soaked hair, and he is glad you can't see him right now. Dave sees a glance of himself in the mirror, the tears forming and slowly dripping down his cheeks. He just can't believe you're here, you're okay, and that he can keep you safe now.

"I'm so lucky…" He whispers, not necessarily to you, or himself.

Lucky. You could almost laugh if you weren't losing more and more energy as you feel yourself sinking into Dave's arms. Nothing about tonight had been lucky. In fact, you almost wonder if this is some sort of sick joke being played on you, and if you could just close your eyes, fall asleep, when you woke it would all be over.

When Dave finally pulls away, to get a better look at you once more, you let out a small noise of discontent from losing his warm embrace.

"We should probably get you cleaned up." he says, looking you over, assessing what's needed. "Do you think you can do it yourself…?"

Before he's even finished asking the question you're shaking your head. Dave can't help a blush rise to his cheeks as he thinks about how he will have to undress you completely to really help you get clean. He then nervously moves his hand to push his glasses back up, before noticing them sitting on the counter next to, and laughs uncomfortably.

"Well, we'll have to get these c-clothes," he starts sputtering out a bit, he isn't usually so nervous around you, you're, well his best friend in the whole world. And if it wasn't for the gender difference this wouldn't be such a big deal. Dave lets out a shaky breath, then continues, more determined to complete the task at hand so that you can feel better. "Yes, as long as you're okay with it, I'll have to undress you to help you bathe."

He settles on that, hoping he's not being weird and that the end justifies the mean here. You look up at him, and muster the energy to speak, to calm his nerves.

"I need your help Dave, I don't care if you see me naked…" You say weakly, and it's true. If it wasn't for the fact that you were feeling as if your energy was fading faster and faster, you may have very well been worried about Dave seeing you naked. But right now? No, you couldn't care even if you tried after the night had. You think Dave senses that and feels the same way. He's just as tired as you, by the look in his eyes.

Dave doesn't say much more, besides an occasional instruction for helping to get your clothes off. He helps you wiggle out of tight skinny jeans, the task made harder by the blood soaked spots that want to stick to your skin. After that, it's only your bra and panties left. Dave can't help but notice how much of your body is being exposed to him for the first time. It's just how he imagined it, if not even better, and he has to remind himself that this wasn't how this should have gone, and now is not the time for a wandering mind. You tell him you have your underwear covered as far as taking it off, and ask if he can start the bath.

He nods, says 'of course!' As if he had made some mistake when his hand reached up for the waistband of your matching panties. He turns to the bathtub before he embarrasses himself more, and you slowly, muscles tired and sore, hop off the counter and begin taking off your bra. When you're finally fully undressed, you ask Dave if he can close his eyes as you hop in the tub.

"Oh, sure, here." He holds out his arm for you to steady yourself as you get in. You utilize this, and as you sink into the half full tub you feel a sense of ease hit you. Dave has it at the perfect temperature, the heat of the bath making you miss his warm arms once more. You let Dave know when he can open his eyes, even though you're sure he can see a full view of your ample chest, it somehow feels better that half of you is protected by the bubbles Dave also added to the bath.

Dave can feel how deeply red his cheeks are as he watches your breasts rise and fall in the water, and when the water begins to turn a rusty color, Dave straightens his mind out. He kneels down next to the tub, his knees on the bathmat. You slide closer as he grabs a washcloth and begins dipping it in the warm water. Neither of you speak as he begins with your face, the softness of the cloth and the warmth of the water easing your tensions while taking off blood and make up. Dave has actually helped you take your makeup off for the night before so he starts with this, feeling most confident in his abilities.

Eventually he finishes your face, and you open your eyes to see him deciding where to start next. He starts on your neck, it's the next thing down that has blood crusted on it, so might as well, right? He cleans gently, making sure that he's not hurting you, going slowly. When you're certain your neck is done, and he's just avoiding going lower, you look up at him, meeting his eyes with a new boldness that has emerged from your transformation. You take his hand gently and lead it to your breast, keeping your eyes locked as you allow him to feel your soft, plump skin there. His eyes look so nervous, something about how much he wants to touch in this way being so clear on his face, yet he rejects it, as to be gentlemanly, or a good friend perhaps, turns you on way more than any of the other boys who have had access to your breasts.

He takes his time here, despite his nerves. Circling your breasts with the washcloth until your supple skin is all that's showing. He keeps his eyes mainly on yours, something about the connection between you two right now is more than just a horny teenager seeing his first pair of boobs. No, it's deeper than that. It's about the trust between you two, and how Dave is staying focused on your needs first and foremost. That isn't to say that how he is touching you now isn't making your already weak legs feel weaker, a quivering in your chest and between your legs building as Dave moves on to the other side, making sure to give the same attention there. You can feel yourself twitch as he brushes over your nipples, which are so hard and tight despite the warm water. They just barely float above the bubbles, and Dave makes sure you're all clean before moving on.

You thought the spell would be broken when he moves on to cleaning your back, but somehow, his hands moving in such a pleasurable massage, makes you want him even more. You completely relax as he cleans, you're sure that it's clean by now, but Dave continues to massage just to make you feel better. When he pauses, you feel his breath against your ear, his voice soft, full of something you've never heard from him before.

"Does that feel good?" He checks in, and you nod, giving a small, relaxed 'mhm…' along with it. You can't see it, but you're sure Dave is smiling, pleased to please you. He always has been that way. He can't help it when it comes to you.

He reaches for the shower head, glad that the bath is a two in one, and starts the water there. He checks the temperature again, making sure it won't be shocking, and he wets your hair. He still can't believe how much blood was on you, and you're unharmed. He begins to gently wash your hair, wondering where it came from. Perhaps he'll ask you in the morning when all this might make more sense. But right now, he works a lather into your hair, his hands like magic, moving so thoughtfully through your locks. You find yourself wishing that this had come on any other night. Why is it that you get to know the pleasure of Dave's hands on your body after all that's happened and not on both of your own terms. You are too tired and enjoying what Dave is doing to care right now. That's for another you to ponder sometime.

Dave finishes up your hair, and gives the wash cloth over to you, instructing you to finish up anything he couldn't reach. He informs you that he is going to get some new clothes for you, and to your surprise, his cool lips touch your forehead before he leaves. You gaze up at his form as he's already out the bathroom door, strutting quickly away to find some new clothes without leaving you too long. You finish washing while he's gone, and stand up wearily out of the tub, grabbing a nearby towel to dry off.

You're all wrapped up in a white towel of his, the tub filled with dirty water, slowly taking it, fand the night that caused it, down the drain. Dave comes back in, surprised you're out, but glad you didn't slip while doing so.

"I got you an old band shirt of mine, and a pair of my shorts." You smile, taking the shirt and shorts.

"I love this shirt…" You say, slowly pulling over your head, the towel still shielding you.

"I know…" Dave says softly as your head pops out of the shirt, your wet hair leaving droplets on the shoulders. You smile and Dave glances away as you slip his shorts on, fitting you nicely enough for the night. You discard the towel and follow Dave towards his bed.

"Here…" He says, pulling back the covers so you can get in. You do, gladly. Dave slips in behind you, and he immediately puts his arms around your waist, too nervous of you escaping him again. You notice the hunger from earlier is duller, calmed for now. Somehow, Dave's attention to you has helped, and you find as Dave snuggles against your shoulder, your breath slowing. The terrors of tonight are ringing around your ears still, but it's no match for how tired your body is. You drift into a deep sleep, wrapped by Dave Lizewski's arms, something you never thought would happen this way.

Some thing's really must be fate.

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