Tumgik
#at now. just not really knowing what to do or how to cope and unable to deal with it the way I want for now. I'm just devastated I guess.
run-clever-boy · 15 hours
Note
Can you write some snape x reader one shot ? Maybe something after war ? Or whatever you want 😁 Thank you.
Happy to! It’s what I’m here for :) Hope you like it! I’m so so so sorry for this taking forever. I’m gonna be honest it’s really hard for me to write for him so I’m trying my best babes! It’s not very long, but I would love feedback, and if you have suggestions I can do a rewrite!
He survived - Severus Snape
Tumblr media
Severus Snape x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Mostly fluff, mention of Severus’ near death, slight angst and comfort.
Summary: Severus retired from teaching and is opening a shop in Hogsmeade to sell his potions. You are currently still a teacher at Hogwarts and spend the weekend helping Severus prepare for the grand opening. (Set about 4 years after the war)
“Sev, I’m home!” You called out to the open space.
“Over here!” He shouts back. You walk toward his voice to find him organizing potion ingredients into his shelves. “How was the first week with the brats?”
“It went fine, it’s really odd not having you there” You go up to him and hug him from behind. “How close are you to being ready for the opening?”
“Pretty close, the one ingredient I’m missing is the bezoars. If Pippin’s Potions could get the supplies to me when they promised, we wouldn’t have this issue.” He sighs heavily, rubbing his forehead.
You get up on your toes and place a light kiss on his lips, hoping to relieve some worry. “Everything will be alright Sev, have patience.”
“Fine, I suppose you’re right.” He grunts out, kissing your forehead.
"Did you sleep last night?" You ask with a raised eyebrow.
He shrugs. You know he still has nightmares, flashbacks really, of the war. It’s been really hard for him to get past it. You are just now beginning to cope with the horrors you faced, so you can’t even begin to imagine what her went through.
You go up behind him and start to rub his shoulders. You could see him tense badly, but then he eased into it. He set down whatever potion he had in his hand and dropped his head back a little. You worked on the knots in his shoulders as he breathed heavily.
“Thank you, I really needed that” He says sincerely, placing a hand on yours.
“Let’s get this organizing done, shall we?” You pick up a box of potions and ingredients. “Lead the way”
He points at a nearby shelf labeled Healing and caries another box with you, barely containing his smirk.
▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄
You wake up in your bed in Hogsmeade, Severus nowhere in sight. You walk downstairs to the soon-to-be potion shop and see him fixing the order of some things.
“Good morning, Y/n” he says in his usual baritone voice.
“Good morning sev… uh… how did I make it to the bed last night?”
He chuckles to himself as he turns to face you.
“I kept you up pretty late helping get ready, you fell asleep on one of the new potion tables.”
“Oh sev, I’m so sorry-“
He holds up his hand “don’t be, the first week of classes is exhausting, I appreciate the help, love.” He walks toward you and places a chaste kiss on your lips.
“I didn’t see you in bed-” you start again
“Don’t.” He says pointedly, casting a fiery glare in your direction.
“Sev” You paused, knowing you’ve had this fight before. “You need help, you went through so much, I just want to help.”
He sighs, looking down from you. “I can’t help it, Y/n, I just can’t.” He places his hands on the edge of a counter and leans on them. “Every time I close my eyes all I can feel is…” he chokes up. Unable to say anymore.
You walk up to him and wrap your arms around his chest, sliding your hand into his hair and pulling him down into the embrace. You feel your clothes dampen from tears and your heart breaks. You whisper 'I love you' into his hair repeatedly, hoping he realizes how sincerely you have always meant them.
"What did I do to deserve you?"
“Everything”
You hold him tightly, not letting go until you know he has had enough. The comfortable silence envelopes you as you slowly separate from each other. You hold the sides of his face and plant a kiss on his cheek, backing up again to look into his eyes, just to double check that he is ok.
You grab a box and start heading toward the last of the empty shelves and he follows suit. You spend time carefully arranging each item into their respective shelves. Severus taught you his system, but you double check every details to make sure everything is exactly where it should be.
“The bezoars came in finally, love” Severus says with relief as he carries in a box from the front door. You knew he had been worried about getting all the supplies because of the shortage after the war.
You grab the box from him and go over to the ‘medicinal/healing’ section of the vast store, placing them in their respective positions, finally completing the last of the stock after many hours of work.
“I’m going to get some shut-eye before we open, wake me up so I can get ready, sev”
“Yes ma’am” he says, walking over briskly to give you a kiss before you go up to bed for some quick rest.
▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄
You had never seen a shop more alive in Hogsmeade in a long time. You had also never been more grateful for the bedroom just upstairs for your energy boost. Your students, both new and old, came pouring into the shop with cauldrons in hand. Severus was working the floor. As usual, he was making sure each kid got what they needed and made sure “no brats can break my potion bottles”. You worked the register, which was now overflowing with customers. You saw some old friends and familiar faces as well. Harry and Ginny came to congratulate us, with Ron and Hermione not fair behind them. Narcissa came with Draco, which wasn’t pleasant, but you were able to keep them fair enough away from Sev to keep the civility going. Over all the business flowing better than you could’ve ever imagined.
“That will be 15 galleons please” You say in a very professional voice.
“Thank you so much! This is just a darling little shop here!” The older lady you are serving responds.
“Be careful” You lean in and with a low voice respond “You don’t want Severus to hear that!” Giggling with the lady as she gathers up her things.
You look over to him as she leaves. He is floating around the shop in his usual dark billowing robes. He moves effortlessly from place to place, clearly busy, but beautifully in his element. He turns and meets your gaze from across the room and a soft smile plays on his lips. Something tells you that he is going to be alright. Contempt in the life you two were given. Most of all, you were happy that he was yours. That he survived.
18 notes · View notes
musical-chick-13 · 1 year
Text
Oh, I did NOT just see someone call a character mentally ill (when there is no evidence of that in canon) just because they’re a bad person.
1 note · View note
simplyreveries · 2 months
Text
"and then i go and spoil it all by saying somethin' stupid like 'i love you'"
Tumblr media
riddle rosehearts
riddle feels such a strange feeling in his chest, he hates it. he feels nervous as you make his chest squeeze and filled with pressure every time, you're near— it washes away as soon as you turn and talk to him. he feels frustrated because he finds himself unable to focus, unable to think clearly when all he sees you. you make him feel such a sense of comfort, he feels like he can fully let his guard down and tell you everything about him if you asked and it scares him. he has looked into how he is feeling, tried asking trey bashfully or read books, things online how he could possibly cope with this sickness.
more often than not he’s drawn to observing and noticing everything about you, your little quirks, expressions, comments, when your right in front of him now, laughing and talking freely amongst your friends around him happily helping out and cleaning up a little. he doesn't seem to be near nor saying a word but only mesmerized as he watches from a distance, he feels so much in a daze of this realization that he doesn't snap out when you walk over to him, he looks at you with a distressed look.
"... have you ever been in love?"
leona kingscholar
despite leona’s intelligence and knowing just exactly what he is feeling about you, he is stubborn at heart. he absolutely hates what you're doing to him, he can't even sleep and take a nap in peace without you invading his thoughts. it looks like he’s angry at you or frustrated, really but it's just him unable to handle the emotions you make him experience. he is infuriated with how he succumbs to the jealously that you make him feel when you're with others, that he feels need to want that attention back on him. still, you talk and find him, usually talking his ear off about something random and some event that occurred to you today.
he has his eyes closed but still listens to you. sometimes you’ll join a game of chess with him, to which he usually takes the pride in winning. he never really questioned as to why you're so persistent on befriending or even just being around him, perhaps you warmed up to him when he cracked and gave into letting you and grim stay at his dorm when yours was practically taken over. his demeanor around you is small, but noticeable. sometimes you'd tease and laugh, you tell him "you must love me" his eyes are kept on you with his eyebrows raised, but he wouldn't say anything to deny.
"do you really wanna make me say it?"
azul ashengrotto
azul finds his demeanor collapsing around you, when he tries to play his cool-headed, business oriented, cleverly scheming person with a smug grin that turns into a stupid smile because he finds himself too nervous around you and so happy being close to you. any attempt he makes to be "suave" around you, it only shows what a hopeless man he is. he feels like he has to look like he absolutely is perfect in front of you, how else would you fall for him? nevertheless, you always seem to be able to see right through him and he hates that. he doesn't want to feel vulnerable, its icky to him.
he watches you after hours in the mostro lounge as you hum and finish closing and cleaning up with him and some others, however now it only seems to be you and azul. he knows he shouldn’t be staring but he tells himself just a few moments more, he always found you under the lighting to be mesmerizing. he hears you telling him about something silly that happened while you were serving, he hears you but can't focus as his mind is running with a million thoughts, if you ask him what it is, he clears his throat and carefully adjusts his glasses, replying slowly.
“i just... love you”
kalim al-asim
his feelings hit so hard, as soon as he got them, he loved it and wanted more of the adrenaline and high of being completely enamored with someone. he loved all the little things that happens throughout the day that makes him so giddy and happy he thinks about it as he tries to sleep, excited for tomorrow to come to see you. kalim feels like he is literally your other half, always wanting to be right beside you.
he finds himself daydreaming quite often, of what it'd be like to be yours, even the thought of you giving him a kiss on the cheek has him flushed. of course, you’d find himself at his celebrations and parades he holds at his dorm. he'd always try to get you to dance, grabbing your hands and jumping up and down with you laughing at least. kalim feels like he can say anything to you and thats exactly what he does. he grabs your hands and bring it up to his face near his lips.
"i love you!"
vil schoenheit
he had his apprehensions; you were more so just someone he knew and eventually because dormmates during his stay with the others at ramshackle. vil had always seemed so drawn to you, if you notice him staring and give a nervous, confused look he'll smoothly adjust something on you. it looks like he can see right through you at times, it didn't take long for him to believe what a genuinely good soul you are in this school. when you and the others were dealing with the events that unfolded when dealing with idia and STYX, when vil had hugged you and pressed a kiss to your forehead he realized just how fully he was deep in this. he pulled away and stared at you for a moment with his hands gripped on your arms that took a longer to fully pull away.
you've sparked such an interest in him, he practically found himself becoming infatuated over time. you'll find yourself within his dorm as he carefully applies makeup to your face-- he adores doing but he can't help but feel amused with a smile creeping to his face when he feels how strangely intimate it feels between you too with him so close. he looks at you with the dreamiest daze, he'll pinch your cheek lightly before moving to grab something else.
"i cant believe i've fallen for you"
idia shroud
he stares and fidgets on his phone nervously, biting his already scarred lip-- he is staring at your contact. he wants to get it off his chest, he wants to get it out of the way if you're reciprocating and feel the same way to someone like him. ortho practically bugs him all the time to, confident and laughs even when he brings up the idea- ortho knows you and thinks idia will be successful and pleasantly surprised with your answer. idia hates that he can't help the way he feels around you, he feels a sense of relief and comfort when you're near- like he doesn't need to be absolutely on edge.
yet as soon as he felt that sensation around you, he eventually turned into his fear because of his infatuation he has around you only grew. he feels his mouth goes dry and struggles to finds something to say when he's looking right at you. you'll still see his moments where he's rambling about something he built or a media he is enjoying but he grows back more into his shell of anxiety when he realizes how much he feels. he considers you perfect and honestly, far out of his league. there was no one someone like you would possibly fall for someone like him. still, idia has found himself to be a pathetic mess when it comes to you and quickly presses send.
"I think i love you"
malleus draconia
surprisingly, out of all of them - i feel like its him that falls for you the quickest. he found himself to be so smitten with you as soon as he accidentally stumbled upon you when it was unbeknownst to him that you were living in the ramshackle dorm now. he admires you, you've shown anything but fear around him and made him feel seen. he truly believes its fate that you somehow found yourself all the way to twisted wonderland and you two had met each other, he tends to find his mind drifting and thinking about that a lot. despite you possessing no magic, he still sometimes will tell you even before confessing that you must hold something. malleus won't give you an exact answer as to why he thinks that yet– being playful and mysterious as he quietly laughs to himself. you stumbled into this unknown world and made him this infatuated. he can't take his eyes off of you during the nights you find yourself talking to him, he watches you look at the nature, as he often shares you the beauty of it in the late hours.
"you've bewitched me, havent you?"
1K notes · View notes
jinnie-ret · 7 months
Text
fallen angel
stray kids x ninth member!reader (platonic)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
genre: hurt/comfort, some fluff at the end
content warnings: injury, hyunjin hiatus (but he still makes an appearance)
word count: 3k
If you enjoy feel free to send in requests as my asks are open! And let me know if you would like to join the taglist for when I upload more imagines :)
the stray kids members have two maknaes to comfort at the end of their 'I'll Be Your Man' cover. One upset because he thought he wasn't good enough, and the other an injured, fallen angel, left hurt because MNET hadn't done enough safety checks on their equipment.
pt 2
MAIN MASTERLIST
Practising the vocals for 'I'll Be Your Man' was difficult enough, trying to learn the choreography alongside it was hard too. But performing said choreography whilst being lifted in a harness too was even more difficult.
Y/N would be lying if she said she wasn't nervous. No, it wasn't to do with the heights, she could cope with that, but it was more the precision of her dance, and the fact that she would be hitting a high note in the air at the same time, having her own solo moment to shine. Maybe it would be different if they had multiple takes to make sure they got the right one. But with Kingdom, they didn't. She only had so many practices to ensure it looked perfect in front of her sunbaenims and friends. Yeosang and Wooyoung from ATEEZ had kept reminding her they were excited to see her performance. In the normal way, this would be encouraging, this time round, it only felt more daunting.
So when it came to the day of the performance, Y/N was unable to hide her nerves shining through.
"Y/Nnie, you good?" Han appeared in front of her, big brown eyes shining in concern as he watched the younger member zoned out in her own world.
"Huh? Oh yeah..." Y/N said dismissively, not really entirely sure how she felt right now, but her emotions showed more on the outside than on the inside right now.
"You've practiced this a billion times, you've got this," Han encouraged her, his hand resting on her shoulder whilst stylists were around the two making last minute adjustments to their outfits before they went on stage.
"Okay okay, I can do this," Y/N nodded, trying to hype herself up for the performance, breathing away her worries.
"Hannie! Y/Nnie!" Changbin loudly called them over to their group huddle where the rest of the members were gathered.
Y/N gave Han a thankful smile before they joined the others in the circle, Y/N slotting herself between Felix and Seungmin.
"Right, let's do our best, stay safe, and deliver what Stray Kids do best! Let's go! Hwaiting!" Chan led the small talk before they all cheered each other on and got into position on stage.
Y/N didn't have a part until the first group choreography part of the performance, where Han and Lee Know sang the chorus and led them through the gates. Felix, Han and Changbin then had their rap parts in a more hellish scene, where a dance break ensued, Y/N running off halfway through it like she was meant to, to get into position.
She was quickly harnessed by their supporting dancers and got ready for her solo part. As soon as she heard Lee Know sing out 'baby I just pray', she was slowly lifted into the air. Instrumental music played as she rose upward, stretching out her arms and legs and creating beautiful moments with them. And when her arms swooped across her long black hair, the other groups who were watching backstage were shocked to see it was a wig that was knocked off, revealing long white hair instead. As she rose higher, some large wings appeared on the screen behind her.
"Oh my god her hair!"
"Wow she's an angel!"
"That's my best friend! Let's go Y/Nnie!"
"So pretty..."
Now risen at the highest point in the air, Y/N began singing too, beautiful vocal runs flowing along with the violin in the background. Her moves ranged from static to more elegant moves too, and she feigned an expression as part of the performance like her soul had been taken away from her, sacrificed for the young boy to align with the storyline of the performance. She was then lowered as her movements became more frantic and dramatic, showing the desperate need to have saved a soul. At the same time, her wings dissolved behind her, the screen turning darker behind her.
"She's a fallen angel! Wow!"
"Oh wow..."
She continued to be lowered, and Y/N was beginning to feel a bit nervous now because she swore she heard a slight ripping sound from the cord she was attached to, yet she continued performing. It was until she was still 6ft in the air, that the cord actually did snap, and Y/N was forced to act quickly despite her shock to try and land. Despite the impact going straight through her left ankle, Y/N continued dancing until the camera panned away again, panting before realising she'd have to dance some more at the end of their performance too. She tried her best to keep her tears at bay, moving across the stage the best she could as she limped over to the rest of the boys. None of them noticed however, as they were in performance mode and hadn't seen her part of the stage from getting ready themselves for the next. And even the groups backstage had seemed to think the drop from the harness was planned, like it was part of her fallen angel character.
Her left foot was in agony, yet she kept going, her body twisting and turning whilst Han and Seungmin sung their hearts out, and Changbin rapped incredibly fast. She was relieved once it came to the end, and they were able to collapse to the ground, because ever since she fell that was all she wanted to do.
Once the lights came up, she cried out, hands over her face. It was then that she noticed she was finding it hard to breathe too, and she didn't know if it was another injury or if she was in so much pain from her ankle.
"Y/N what's happened?" Lee Know crouched down next to Y/N, thinking she was upset and tried to help her up but then she cried out in pain again.
"What's happened? Are you hurt?" Felix panicked, seeing the tears coming from the younger member.
Staff members from MNET rushed over, catching the attention of the other members.
"What's going on?" Changbin asked confused and worried.
A higher up crew member approached the group and began to explain what happened.
"There was a fault with the harness, the cord snapped as she was being lowered and so she suffered a slight fall. Good news is she landed it well so it still looked good on camera," they hurriedly tried to reassure the rest of the group, but their words did anything but that.
"She fell?!" Seungmin looked across at Y/N who was being comforted by a now angry looking Lee Know and a more worried Felix. Jeongin, who wasn't feeling too good about his own performance, looked worried for his fellow maknae.
"The harness broke?!? Why didn't you check it was safe?!" Chan exploded in anger at the MNET staff, because now one of his members was injured.
Whilst he continued to rant angrily at the staff, Han trying to calm him down, the rest of the boys gathered around Y/N.
"Ah it hurts," she cried through stuttered breaths, top half leant against Changbin as he had lifted her slightly into his arms. He rubbed soothing circles into her hands which gripped onto his so tightly.
"Where, Y/N? Can you tell us where it hurts, love?" Felix rushed out his words concerned for her, seeing the tears roll down her face.
"Landed on my ankle," Y/N whimpered, her breaths coming out short.
"Y/N you need to calm down, okay?" Seungmin patted her arm, thinking that she was working herself up even more, and not wanting her to feel even worse.
"Get a doctor here then!" Chan was heard shouting, which only made Y/N more upset.
"Hey, hey, hey, it's going to be okay, yeah?" Changbin reassured her gently, squeezing her hands tighter.
"W-what if I can't join the next performance?" Y/N shakily asked, eyes flitting back and forth between the boys who were her real comfort right now.
"We'll worry about that later. We're more concerned about you right now, Y/Nnie. Just breathe sweetheart, can you do that, hmm?" Lee Know spoke calmly, slowly taking off her shoe to reveal a swollen and bruised ankle.
"I'm trying to b-but it hurts to," Y/N says through stuttered breaths, tears still falling down her face.
"There's not a doctor here yet?" Jeongin questioned, wondering why someone on set hadn't arrived quicker.
"They should be coming over now," Chan informed them, before grabbing one of Y/N's hands, "we're going to get you some help, yeah? Just take some nice deep breaths, Y/Nnie."
Chan gave her the same advice as the others yet it wasn't working. Y/N knew it wasn't her panicking, but something worse.
"We keep trying to calm her down but she says it hurts when she breathes," Felix looks up Chan worriedly, and sees Han to the left of him with his clasped together nervously.
Some medical staff finally came over and lifted her onto a small bed to move her backstage and look at her properly. Y/N couldn't help but let out more whimpers of pain and the members tried to reassure her as they followed along.
"Only one person in here please," the standby doctor informed the boys, and that was when they decided Seungmin should go in with her. He was the most grounded at the moment, the other members either being too angry, worried or upset to remain calm like Y/N needed.
Seungmin gently held Y/N's hand as the doctors checked over her. With a slight press into her ribs, Y/N let out a loud yell of pain, Seungmin immediately whispering reassuring words to her and gently petting her hair.
"It's okay, it's okay, they're just making sure you're okay, Y/Nnie," he stumbled over his words, now wishing someone else was in his position instead because he feared he wasn't doing enough to comfort the younger girl and he hated seeing her like this.
"We fear you may have a bruised rib, Miss Y/N, you're going to have to seek medical help from a hospital," the doctor shook his head, regretfully informing them.
"No, no, I can't, what about the next performance, can't let the team down," Y/N cried, which was making her ribs hurt even more from the slight jolting of her body.
"Y/Nnie, it's okay, we'll figure out, but you need to calm down, jagi, because you'll hurt yourself more," Seungmin made sure she was looking at him as he said this, wiping her tears away with his thumbs, stroking her face gently.
"B-but-"
"Ssshh, please don't cry Y/Nnie, we'll get you to a hospital and then we worry about the future, okay, come on now, that's it, well done," Seungmin helped her to relax, an arm gently wrapped around her shoulders as he stroked her hair to calm her down.
Whilst Y/N's examination was happening, Chan had noticed Jeongin's upset.
"Hey Innie, it's okay, Y/N will be okay," he patted his younger member's back, thinking that's why he was crying to himself.
"It's not that, I mean, I'm worried about Y/N, but I messed up in the performance and then seeing her hurt too was just," Jeongin couldn't finish his words, crying into the shoulder of his leader.
"Ah, Innie, you did good, which part?" Chan patted his back gently.
"I just did a terrible job as a whole," Jeongin sniffled, his voice thick from trying to hold back his cries.
"Hey, it's okay man," Chan hugged him again.
Felix came and hugged Jeongin too.
"Ah what are we going to do with our maknaes?" Han sighed fondly, patting Jeongin on the head, and it was then they saw Y/N getting wheeled out of the medical room and heading down the corridor past their room.
"Hey, hey! What's going on?" Chan called after some staff of their own who were with Y/N.
"They're taking her to hospital, think she's got a bruised rib," the JYP staff shook their head angrily.
"A bruised rib?!" Changbin said with wide eyes, trying to peer round at Y/N who was sat up straight, trying to remain calm with Seungmin who was stood beside her, looking stressed himself.
"Lee Know and I will go with her, Seungmin, you go home with the others, yeah? We'll update you," Chan instructs everyone.
Seungmin nodded and was immediately embraced into a hug by Felix, feeling guilty for relaxing but he couldn't deal with seeing his member hurt.
And off they went. Changbin stayed behind with the 00 liners and Jeongin, making sure they weren't too shaken up by what happened. Chan and Lee Know stuck to Y/N like glue, one of them always holding her hand or stroking her hair, even when she had been given some drugs for the pain and was unconscious.
"I can't believe this happened..." Chan sighed, brushing back stray hairs from Y/N's face. They were sat beside her hospital bed.
"Typical MNET," Lee Know sighed angrily, looking at the boot now on Y/N's foot.
Y/N then started waking up.
"Hey, sweetheart, how you feeling?" Chan was quick to check in on her.
"Feel, funny," Y/N giggled trying to sit up but then wincing in pain.
"Oh gosh, she's gone loopy," Lee Know playfully sighed, but he couldn't hide his worry for her as he gently leaned her back.
"Wow I have such handsome members," Y/N suddenly said, the drugs she was given making her delirious and spouting whatever was on her mind.
"What? Y/N?" Chan laughed at the girl who staring at the two eldest members.
"Did so well today. Good performance. All 9 of us," Y/N carried on, seeming like she had forgotten about her injuries for now considering she thought all 9 of them was there, when really it was 8 because of the stupid hiatus Hyunjin had to be on.
"It was only 8 of us, Y/Nnie, remember?" Lee Know warily reminded her, and it was then she teared up.
"Call Hyunjin, I miss him. Want to talk to him," Y/N pouted sadly, and they couldn't deny their maknae.
"He might be busy though, Y/N," Chan said gently, calling his fellow member anyways.
Fortunately he answered.
"Hi Channie hyung!" Hyunjin said brightly upon seeing Chan's face, which soon changed to Y/N holding the phone closely to her face, making Hyunjin cackle.
"Woah, Y/N, all of a sudden?" he laughed over the phone.
"Hyunjin!" Y/N yelled into the phone, causing Chan and Lee Know to shush her due to being in a hospital.
"Y/Nnie!" Hyunjin joyfully said back.
"I miss you!" she said into the phone, holding the phone higher up where Hyunjin could see she was in a hospital gown and had an IV in.
"Miss you too- huh? Are you in hospital?" Hyunjin sounded very concerned, and Lee Know and Chan could hear it in his voice that he longed to be with them right now to comfort her and reassure himself.
"Yeah. Because MNET are all dickheads who can s-" Y/N spoke her mind, until Chan covered her mouth so she'd stop speaking and Lee Know took the phone.
"Hyung is Y/N okay?" Hyunjin frowned.
"We were filming and you know she had that harness part? MNET didn't do enough safety checks and so the cord snapped," Lee Know shook his head angrily
"What? That's ridiculous! How could they just let that happen?" Hyunjin rambled from the other side of the phone, but Y/N in her more delirious state thought he was talking about her.
"You angry at me Jinnie?" she asked sadly, bottom lip wobbling.
"No no no, not at you, jagi, at MNET, because they're all dickheads, remember?" Hyunjin quickly calmed Y/N, trying to make her laugh by using her words, and he was successful in doing so.
"Hyunjin!" Chan scolded, yet their was a smile as he spoke and Hyunjin could hear Lee Know's laughter in the background.
"Please update me if she's ok, yeah?" Hyunjin bit his lip worriedly, wishing he could be with his memners right now.
"Of course of course, that goes without question. Talk to you soon, yeah?" Chan promised Hyunjin.
"Bye hyungs! Bye Y/Nnie!" Hyunjin waved them goodbye as the phone hung up.
"Y/N you can't shout like that," Chan facepalms and laughs, scolding her for her shouting earlier on in the call.
"You sounded like a parrot," Lee Know said bluntly, causing Y/N to smirk.
"You sounded like a parrot."
"Y/N-"
"Y/N."
A sigh.
And another, Y/N copying Lee Know once again.
"Hyung make her stop," Lee Know whined, Y/N copying once again before he covered her mouth.
Chan managed to capture this on video and sent it to the groupchat to let them know how Y/N was doing.
Chan:
[vid. attachment]
Y/N is up and doing better
Han:
haha Lee Know hyung is annoyed
Chan:
well he did call her a parrot
Changbin:
ah Y/N is so clever like that haha
Seungmin:
she learnt it from me
Felix:
hahaha
what did the doctors say?
Lee Know:
she's got a bruised rib, broken ankle, don't know how we're going to let her down gently about if she can join the next performance or not
Jeongin:
I hope she can :(
Chan:
she spoke to Hyunjin and that made her feel better
Hyunjin:
what can I say? I'm a natural healer
Felix:
we miss you jinnie
Hyunjin:
I miss you guys too
but it's not long now, that makes me feel better
Y/N:
you know what is long?
Han:
which one of you let Y/N have her phone?
Y/N:
my d-dkfkfkfmfkfdkdkrkrkttt
Lee Know:
Chan did, but I've got it now. this one has gone crazy...
tagged: @oo-li
956 notes · View notes
chronicbeans · 2 months
Text
Queerplatonic Alastor x Reader Headcanons
Hehe my plan of writing headcanons for various Aroace-spec identity Alastor headcanons has begun. This one is with a cupioromantic and asexual Alastor in mind. I haven't seen enough of them, and as they say! "If you want it done right, you gotta do it yourself."
TW: Frustrations regarding romantic identity, complete unawareness of certain LGBTQ+ topics (my man's from the 1920's, he's almost completely in the dark), slight yandere behavior? (I feel he's just obsessive by default, regardless of the relationship type)
Tumblr media
• So, this man has never necessarily identified himself with any sort of LGBTQ+ labels. Back in his day, there weren't any terms to use for being asexual or aromantic. At least, not any that he knew of. He's always been comfortable with his sexuality, though! His main thought process was always "I'll probably find someone that I'm attracted to at some point, and if I don't, that's alright." That thought process has also followed him down to Hell, and stayed the same for all these years.
• However... Whilst he's very comfortable with his sexuality... His romantic feelings are very complicated, now. He's always desired to have one, and he's very confused as to why he hasn't felt any romantic attraction, yet. It makes sense that someone who wants a romantic relationship to be able to feel romantic attraction, yes? He's very much in the dark to the complexities of how these things really work, mostly due to him being from the 1920s-30s. He's caught up on slang and technology, but he hasn't bothered to keep up with sexualities and romantic identities, as he doesn't think about them much.
• So, does he ask any more modern demons and sinners for help? Ha! No. He's too prideful, and simply assumes that there probably isn't much of a difference in knowledge on romantic attraction as compared to his day. Yes, he's aware that there's way more identities for sexualities. People talk about them often, and he hears terms thrown around here and there as he walks through Hell. He never hears anything in regards to romance, though. It's simply not talked about as often, from his experience. So, he's completely in the dark. If anything, he's probably completely unaware that there are identities for romantic attraction.
• He does what he can to cope. This whole situation is very frustrating for him. However, at the same time, he thinks that it shouldn't be so frustrating. So, it's embarrassing to him, and he doesn't tell anyone about it. Instead, he does what he believes everyone who is single and ready to mingle does: reading romance novels. More specifically, he flips to parts where said attraction is described, or little scenarios that he wants is going on. Restaurant dates, walking through the park, dancing, holding hands and cuddling. Those sorts of things! Things nobody would ever expect someone as unhinged as him would want...
• The most frustrating part, however, is that he feels he should already be feeling such an attraction to you. You, being his most close friend. You're the one he trusts with certain secrets, one of the few people he doesn't mind touching him unprompted (besides, say, Niffty), and probably the only person he lets his smile down around. Though, he rarely does so, as he doesn't want to worry you. Unlike Niffty, who he sees as having a more familial feeling towards, he sees you as a close friend. His closest friend, but just a close friend, which frustrates him to no end.
• It takes him a long time to even think of mentioning it to someone. However, when he does, he'd feel too awkward to bring it up to you. So, he decides to speak to Charlie about it! After all, she has one of the more "modern" relationships. So, she probably also knows something about whatever is going on with him! And after the long and grueling process of talking to her? He comes out even more frustrated than before. Being unable to feel romantic attraction, but still want romance? Cupioromantic? It is all so confusing. However, he won't question it. He's clearly out of his zone, and he was horribly wrong when assuming the world of romance hadn't progressed...
• You, however, are his most trusted friend. His closest friend. So, he decides to waste no time in deciding to propose an idea to you. He's heard of these things called "queerplatonic relationships", and his understanding is that they are like friendships, but with some more traditionally romantic interactions involved. Which, whilst his understanding of the nature of queerplatonic relationships may be a bit off, he's trying his best. Once you explain it a bit further, emphasizing that they're closer relationships than friendships, but not romantic and can vary widely in affectionate interactions, he is immediately is set on trying to start one with you. Luckily, though, you agree rather quickly.
• Despite him wanting many of your interactions and ways of showing affection to be more traditionally romantic, such as cuddling or going out on friendly dates, he won't cross any boundaries. Both because you're his closest, most prized relationship with another person, and because he can't think of many other people who would even be willing to enter such a relationship with him if he ever asked. Not that he'd want to ask anyone else. There's a reason why he immediately went to you. It's hard for him to describe it, though. Despite being a man of words, whenever he tries to explain why he feels like you are the perfect person for him to enter this queerplatonic relationship with, he stumbles heavily.
• His little ideal for this relationship is, essentially, the types of things he's read in the romance novels he has. Sure, a little bit of a twisted version of it, but at it's core it's the same. He wants to cuddle in a nice, safe, and warm room (while there's probably the screams of an extermination going on the background). He wants to go to restaurants (this man's a cannibal so check your food). He wants to do the cheesy move of handing you red roses and candy as a gift (do not ask how he was able to buy such an expensive brand, or where the two large, heavy trash bags came from or what they are filled with).
• He's going to be very, VERY protective of you. Almost, if not completely to an obsessive degree. He knows how Hell is. People want power, and he's powerful, and you are close to him. He's sure many people are going to go after you, in order to get to him. So, your little relationship is going to be as well protected of a secret as it can be, at first, until he believes he can properly protect you from any danger. And after the secret is out, he's going to be right by your side the entire time. Literally. Whenever he can be, he's next to you. Nobody, except maybe Vox or another pesky overlord, is going to try to hurt you as long as he is there. Even then, he could completely destroy them, anyways!
410 notes · View notes
Text
I’m gonna write this down now so I can look like an absolute genius later (or look like a clown, but at least I said it with my full chest!)
❌ Spoilers for the FNAF Movie below! ❌
Ok, I might be huffing hopium here, but in my heart of hearts I STILL think Mike Schmidt is Mike Afton. If (or when) they make a sequel, there’s a way they can reveal this
So the most obvious thing from this movie is when Mike is in “Steve’s” office, and when “Steve” is reading Mike’s name out loud from his résumé, he stops mid-sentence. He looks at Mike for a weird amount of time, almost studying him, before completely changing the subject. There’s no way in hell “Steve” recognizes Mike from when he saw him as a kid when he kidnapped his brother Garrett 10+ ago, no chance. Also why would he go to Nebraska (unclear where the movie takes place, but let’s assume Utah because of the books) to kidnap a random kid and just drive off? Here’s what I think is going on…(also I’m gonna call him William from now on cuz we all know lol)
William fingered out that Mike is his son during that interview. My theory is that at some point, William was married and him and his wife have a son named Mike. And for one reason or another, they got divorced. This is when Mike was too young to really remember which is why he doesn’t recognize William during their meeting. Mike’s mom gains custody of Mike and remarries, she marries Mr. Schmidt. They have a child together, Garrett. Sometime after the divorce, William adopts a child, trying to cope after losing his only son. He adopts Vanessa.
William finds out about his ex-wife having another kid. He wants to cause her pain and suffering for leaving him. He follows the Schmidt’s and takes Garrett during the camping trip. Unable to handle the pain, Mike’s mom takes her own life, leaving Mike and his stepdad. Mr. Schmidt marries a little later to another woman, and she has a daughter named Abby. Sometime after this, both Mr. Schmidt and his new wife die, leaving Mike to care for Abby.
Vanessa owed William so much, he had adopted her while she had suffered in an orphanage for years. She would do anything he told her, even if it meant covering up his crimes. Years later, realizing what she was doing was wrong, she left her father and became a police officer, hoping to stop people like her father as she had failed to stop him.
Here’s another thing. Scott Cawthon knows that the fans are obsessed with the lore of FNAF. I think he knew he could make more movies, this isn’t going to be a one and done deal. Plus, he had his hand on this project every step of the way, he wouldn’t agree to anything that he didn’t want to happen in the story. Mike being William’s some is CRUCIAL to the story of FNAF (at least in the games). I think he’s trying to fake us out, you know how he loves to troll the fans!
Again, this is just a theory (A GAME THEORY lol), but I don’t think the idea of Mike being an Afton is dead just yet. Hoping and praying so I can look incredibly smart if or when the sequel drops 🙏🏻
569 notes · View notes
daddysuga101 · 11 months
Text
Sleeping beauty
Gojo x reader x Geto
Warnings: non con, somophillia, groping, slut shaming, reader is a virgin, reader gets drugged(not by gojo or geto )
"Toru, I'm so exhausted." You mutter weakly. You shift uncomfortably on the dirty floor of the frat house. Your eyes flutter opened and closed and your mouth feels like it was stuffed with cotton so you were 100% sure you were drugged or something.
There's no way light drinking should do this to you. What sucked more was how you couldn't tell Satoru or Suguru who did this do you because all of your thoughts were so jumbled as you went in and out of consciousness.
Gojo gently slapped the side of your face and blinking curiously at you. Humming quietly when you didn't open your eyes.
"Aw she's sleepy." Gojo teases in a low voice. You  miss the way Geto glares that Gojo muttering something about how he should be more serious considering the fact whoever drugged you could have made you OD. Thankfully by the way you were breathing steadily, that didn't seem like that was the case.
But more than that, Suguru chastezied Gojo to be more grateful for the fact you not only came to this party with them, but also trusted these two enough to not do something to you while in such a vulnerable state.
Especially now since they moved you into an empty bedroom of the frat house. Gojo once again behind you as you laid your back against his chest and Suguru sitting at the foot of the bed.
Two guys, one roofied girl, all alone and yet you trusted them.
Though, neither boys were quite sure that was a smart decision on your end. They weren't bad by any means, in fact in comparison to the walking piles of shit that frequentented these parties. Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto were good guys.
Despite what the general public would think about the two infamous man whores, they had no intention of making you a convenient notch in their belts. In fact if someone asked they'd tell them that they hung out with you because you were funny and cool to be around.
The three of you were as tight as tight could be. So tight in fact you one day spilled your guts to them about being in college and still being a virgin.
They were so understanding and sweet that you really couldn't see the excitement in their eyes at the time. They were good guys. But both knew the other silently wanted you for months. Yet somehow that day made them want you that much more.
'We won't touch her.' Was the settled on agreement.
That being said there was silent understanding between the two of them that if and when you lost your virginity they'd be the ones to take it. It's not cause their bad guys though. They just don't want some real bad guy to come into your life making you a convenient fuck. No they are not bad. Just concerned.
They wanna keep you safe. They love their sweet pure little friend.
And they'd keep all the bad of the world away from you and your purity.
So those days you'd come crying to them about the fact that boys didn't like you, they'd coo in your ear about how boys are just stupid and you have to keep looking.
They didn't however tell you the simple fact that they threaten any and all boys in your class from breathing at you the wrong way. Because again, if they don't look after you no one will. I mean look at the situation you're in now. Drugged up and sleepy, completely unable to protect yourself. Here you are, your breath shallow and your back lying against Satorus chest in such a way (if he were a bad guy) could simply cope a quick feel before you were sober enough to notice.
But Satoru is not a bad guy. Geto on the other hand is staring down at you his tongue peaking out to lick his dry lips.
"She's cute isn't she?" Suguru asked. Toru nods his hand combing your braids from your face.
"So cute." Satoru agrees. The two of them sat in silence watching you as you slept.
"Which asshole do you think roofied her?" Suguru asked playing with the fabric of his own shirt.
"Who knows. I mean don't most guys want a piece of her? Couldve been anyone of those assholes right? That's what you get for dressing like a slut huh?" Gojo teased in your ear pulling your cheek a little.
You didn't respond of course which caused Gojo to laugh. Geto let's out a shaky breath watching the place we're your shirt dips leaving your tits barely covered.
"Virgin my ass. No way a girl her age with tits like that hasn't had a cock in her." Geto muttered dryly.
"That's what makes her special Suguru. A slutty looking body with a virgin pussy. How exciting right?" Satoru said resisting the urge to cup your pussy over your skirt.
"Virgin whore." Suguru remarked absentmindedly palming his erection over his jeans.
"Easy tough guy, she's barely awake." Satorus reminds. Poking your cheek getting no reaction. "Scratch that she's completely out."
"Don't take the high road with me Satoru. You only have her up against you like that so you can feel her body on yours." Suguru accuses his eyes never leaving your barely conscious form. Satoru makes a sort of a huff sound as if he's offended by the accusation but won't actually deny it.
"You're the one palming yourself, fucking perv." Satoru joked. Suguru rolled his eyes his bangs falling clumsily over his forehead as he climbed up the bed straddling your waist.
"Oi! She'll wake up. Plus hell will freeze over before I let you fuck her. If anyone will have her virginity it's me." Satoru remarks with a shrug. Geto rolls his eyes.
"Relax I won't fuck her. But since we're here..." Suguru unbutton his jeans pulling his hard cock out. Satoru rolled his eyes.
"You try to put anything in her I'll kill you understand?" Satoru questioned.
"Yeah yeah." Suguru muttered sticking two fingers in your mouth using your spit as lube. Suguru grabbed his own erection and stared down at you as he began working on himself.
Suguru imagined you waking him up with his cock in your mouth. He imagined fucking your throat and hearing your virgin throat gag on him. He imagined you crying about him being too big when he finally fucked you. He imagined hushing you and telling you to just take it.
"Fuck." Suguru muttered fisting himself harder until he spilled in your clothed tits.
"Fuck baby, such a good girl." Suguru said breathlessly wishing it was your pussy he came on or in.
"Gross. Get your fucking jizz off her." Satoru muttered annoyed. Suguru scoffed.
"What I can't nut on her but you can fondel her?" Suguru retorted referring Satorus hand that found it's way to your breast sqeezing periodically.
"You're forgetting one thing. She's mine at the end of the day. Her mouth, her pussy, her skin. You can jizz thinking about her all you want, but she belongs to me."
"The strongest always gets what he wants." Suguru remarked dryly and irritated as he wiped his cum off.
"Damn straight."
You groaned a little, snuggling deeper into Gojos arms not aware of the fact he was grabbing your breasts.
"Lemme show you something." Gojo said,
"Y/n baby, spread your legs." he murmured you couldn't move so he happily did it for you, his large hands separating your thighs.Your skirt short enough to give him easy access.
"Satoru-."
"You had your fun let me have mine." Gojo said his long fingers cupping over your panty covered pussy. "Also you can relax, I'm not gonna rape her." Gojo says as he rips the crotch of your panties off licking his fingers and running circles over your clit.
Despite your ineberated state you still try to grind your cunt in his fingers making Gojo smile.
"She really is a whore deep down. See how she grinds into my fingers? I bet she wants them in her. You do don't you baby." he asks in your ear.
You groan weekly Gojo’s persistent and relentlessly rubbing of your clit in firm fast enough circles. He feels your body tense up and holds you still as your body tries to fight him off.
You whimper weekly and whoreishly before you finally cum. Your clit swollen and over used by Gojo.
"So sensitive Y/n. Never had her sweet pussy touched before huh?" Gojo asked smacking your clit lightly. You groaned quietly relaxing against Gojo again still not quite awake.
Suguru rolls his eyes because fuck Satoru, he wanted to make your virgin pussy cum first. Oh well, he's sure there's other firsts he can steal from you some other time.
Because again, god forbid some bad guy comes along and tries to take them from you?
Because remember Satoru and Suguru are not bad guys.
---
The next morning while on his morning run Satorus phone goes off and it's a message from you.
Y/n: Hey, do you know why my panties are ripped?
Gojo: yeah those assholes that roofied you ripped them:((
Gojo: but I promise we got you before they could touch u:)
Y/n: oh wow, thanks so much Toru, that could have been bad
Gojo: no need for thanks sweetheart me and Suguru took real good care of ya
1K notes · View notes
chaoskid-deer · 6 months
Text
today’s episode has so many GREAT (heartbreaking) moments but one thing that really struck me was how Seward is doing. He uses a lot of clinical language that could easily be interpreted as him being more emotionally removed but jonny sims’ performance makes me think how much of that is a coping mechanism to try desperately to keep it together so he can do his job as Lucy’s doctor, as well as how much he is straight up UNABLE to process his own feelings.
Especially during the part where he’s comforting Arthur, and talking a lot about Masculine Grief, it doesn’t feel like someone trying to assert how tough and manly they are, it feels more like he’s grasping at straws trying to figure out how to comfort his friend and trying to justify that him mostly just standing there holding Arthur was Ok and A Good Job. Arthur is telling him that he doesn’t know what he has to live for, and as we know from Seward’s opening lines, Seward doesn’t know either!!! He’s basically standing there wanting to die listening to the strongest, best man he knows ask him how he’s supposed to go on and has NOTHING to give Arthur. But for some reason just holding him and crying together seemed ok? So maybe he did something right? Must have been because Arthur is so Manly and Perfect that he didn’t need a lot of comfort to pull through. (Oh Seward, it’s because you’re his BEST FRIEND and you’ve been there for him at great personal cost this whole time, give yourself some credit)
This ties in to a lot of @see-arcane ‘s excellent analysis of how Seward likes to hold up his friends as Better People than him, and take cues about how to act from them, and uses performing masculinity and clinical distance as a crutch because he thinks there’s something inherently wrong with him that he’s afraid of.
And right now, he doesn’t even have the time to process his own feelings. Lucy has died, and on top of grieving the woman he loves, he also feels as though he’s failed her as her doctor. But Arthur need support and is busy with his fathers death, Lucy has no nearby relatives, van helsing is busy with his own mysterious quest, and all of the administrative work of death still needs to be handled by someone.
Arthur gets to lay his head against the sofa and pray. Van Helsing gets to beat his palms and sob. But for Seward, there is work to be done, and he won’t let himself break down until it’s done. And his work is never done.
606 notes · View notes
zanarkandskylines · 26 days
Text
₊✩‧₊◜ coping with the accident (pt.2)
『 ♡ - k.bakugo x fem!reader 』 tw/cw: mentions of hospital equipment but happy ending!! ⋆ ˚ʚɞ — pt. 2 as requested! hope you enjoy @queenpiranhadon ♡ ( part one ) -`✧ katsuki bakugo masterlist 
Katsuki laid in the grass, the small wisps tickling his skin in the breeze. The sunlight’s warmth comforted him, reminiscent of a cherished childhood blanket. He doesn’t remember walking to the riverbank, or really…anything at all about the day. The last thing he could recall was being on patrol with Kirishima. It was cloudy that day, too - nothing like the current forecast.
‘Did I pass out?’ The thought echoes through the caverns of his mind.
Maybe he was dreaming the world around him, creating the ideal paradise for his soul. Regardless of how he got here, the peace it offered him was unmatched to anything he’s felt before. It was…strange.
‘Where the hell is everyone?’
Katsuki could hear faint whispers every now and again, sometimes the sounds of unknown technology droning and beeping at random. He felt a squeeze on his hand a little while ago, confused by the foreign sensation when he saw nothing there.
He rose slowly, careful with his movements as he scanned his surroundings. No one else was around - he was completely alone.
Suddenly, Katsuki was overwhelmed with the urge to lay in the river. He begins to make his way to the edge, wading into the water with his boots on. The river wasn’t deep by any means, just enough to come to his knees. The current flowed softly around him as he laid on the surface, floating blissfully in the cool stream.
A wave of exhaustion washed over him in the moment as Katsuki’s eyes fluttered closed.
‘So…tired,’ he thought, unable to fight the drowsiness building inside him. His vision was fading to black until a splash nearby startled him out of his tranquil haze.
You appeared above him, observing curiously with your brows scrunched together and hair hanging in front of your face.
“What are you doing in the river, Kat?” you ask, tilting your head. He blinks a few times before finding the words to respond.
“I…don’t know.”
A zealous laugh erupts from your throat. Katsuki’s heart flurries at the sound of your voice, emotions welling from deep within himself. You shuffle around his body and extend your hand for him to take.
"Come on, Katsuki. Let's go home."
He takes your hand like it's the most fragile thing in the world.
The landscape around the two of you begins to dissipate as he rises from the river. Everything is swirling into puffs of smoke - including you. He tries to say 'don't go!' but the words halt on his lips, unable to vocalize his feelings.
And then...it happens.
Without warning, Katuski's eyes shoot open - a raspy breath escaping his lungs. He shakes his head to fix his sight and pixelate the world into focus. The fluorescent lighting of the hospital hallway reflects off the tiles and creates a dim hue in the room.
He has a million questions, his brain playing catch up with reality while he analyzes the setting around him. That's when his gaze falls downward and sees...you. You're fast asleep, hunched over in the uncomfortable plastic chair with your head on the hospital bed - hand tangled with his.
Katsuki sighs to himself, letting his lips curl into the softest smile he could muster. He rubs his thumb over the back of your hand, causing you to wake from your slumber. He can see the glistening of tears forming in your eyes through the darkness. Your mouth moves, but nothing comes out - you're too overwhelmed with emotion. So, he decides to fill the silence for you.
"I'm home."
he deserved a happy ending ♡
219 notes · View notes
mrs-kmikaelson · 3 months
Text
Our Song and Dance⁴
Pairing: Finnick Odair x reader Summary: You'd grown used to dancing the same dance over and over again, the victor's dance, but then you start dancing with Finnick Odair and you feel things you never thought you'd feel. So you let yourself enjoy the dance, even though you knew that every song inevitably came to an end. Warnings: LONGGGG, descriptions of torture, suicidal thoughts and tendencies, violence, exploitation of minors, mentions of forced prostitution, very complicated relationships, complex mental health issues, death, grief, and some unhealthy coping mechanisms Words: 18.2K
Masterlist
a/n: since it's that time of year, i decided to give u guys a lil present. merry christmas and enjoy!!!
Tumblr media
You had never felt so cold.
Growing up in a working home, you sometimes went through winter just hoping that your sheets would be enough to keep you alive, unable to afford a heater. In your first Games, you nearly froze to death, your matches being the only thing that saved you. Then once you had won and made it to the Capitol, you went through those cold nights with Finnick, sometimes hoping that you really would freeze to death, even if you never told him that.
Yet none of those times could compare to how cold you felt now. 
Cold as you were brought out of the Capitol. Cold on the hovercraft. Cold when they sedated you. Cold as you were wrapped in blankets. Cold as Finnick went to touch you. And now, as the doctors examined you like you were an artifact, you were still just as cold.
But you were an artifact, weren’t you? You were the Princess.
So it didn’t really matter how cold you were at all.
You had been transported from the open medical area to your own room. It was almost like you blinked and, just like that, you were in a different room. Like magic.
Even though magic did not exist. Not in Panem. Not in this world.
Someone named Boggs had come to see you, explaining that you were in district 13, a district that you thought didn’t exist for your entire life. This is the revolution, he said. He was meant to bring you up to speed, ease your confusion, but you weren’t sure that was possible at the moment. 
Throughout his explanation, you didn’t say a word, just staring up at him. This may have been seen as rude, but you weren’t doing it on purpose. You really didn’t know what to say.
He eventually left, not getting anywhere with you. From what you could tell, he had a lot more to deal with than just one girl. For a supposedly dead district, there was a lot going on in 13, but that wasn’t where your mind was.
Your body was in 13, but your mind was in the Capitol.
“Please, don’t-”
You closed your eyes, trying to rid yourself of these memories, but that only made it worse, images appearing underneath your eyelids. Your eyes quickly snapped open, darting around the room, your chest rapidly falling and rising.
You were in a bed. There was a desk, some chairs, a glass of water on the night stand next to you. The floor was white, tiled, not grey concrete. There were lights. You were in 13, where the lights were on, not in the Capitol, surrounded by darkness.
You’re alive, Y/N, you told yourself. But that didn’t seem to make anything better.
When did it ever?
You ran your hands up and down your arms, feeling new scars that hadn’t been there before, scars that could maybe heal one day, but you knew there were still open wounds you had that couldn’t be treated, open wounds that may never scar at all. 
You didn’t think the wounds you had right now would ever close.
Your heart was racing, beating so loudly that you could hear it, so you imagined it wasn’t yours at all, that it was Finnick’s heart that you heard. Though you supposed that your heart did belong to him.
Even though you didn’t want to see him.
Nevertheless, imagining him sitting with you and pretending to listen to his heartbeat was what calmed you down. It always would. In a way, that was the only thing about you that remained sure, the only thing you had left from the life you lived.
Because that’s what it was: a life lived. Y/N Y/L/N lived her life. For a time, she was happy. She fell in love. And then she died. Now… now, you didn’t know who you were.
What you did know was that you weren’t the same Y/N that Finnick knew, the same Y/N who’d fall asleep in his arms. Now, you weren’t sure you could fall asleep at all, not for long, never for long.
Johanna and Peeta’s faces flashed through your mind. Their screams still echoed in your head. They were different now, too. Johanna wasn’t so fearless anymore, and the golden boy wasn’t so golden. His bright gold had been captured by darkness, and you weren’t sure if any of you would ever see it again.
At that thought, you finally got up, ignoring the ache in your bones. You couldn’t just sit there. You couldn’t sleep. You couldn’t eat. You couldn’t think anymore- you wouldn’t. You had to see them.
You left your room, a nurse coming up to you right away. “Ma’am, please, you need to rest-”
“I’m fine.” Your voice was raspy and scratched at your throat, so you cleared it. You didn’t know what you looked like, but you knew it couldn’t have been great with the way the nurse was looking at you. “Could you please take me to my friend Johanna?”
Hesitance was painted all over her face, as well as fear. You didn’t know why; you weren’t in any position to fight. “I’m sorry, I- I can’t-”
You cut her off. “I just want to see my friend.” Annoyance laced your voice, but if one listened closely, they’d also hear the desperation. You needed to see her, you needed to see someone familiar, someone that wasn’t there just because you were their responsibility, someone that wasn’t the boy you loved.
Her mouth opened and closed for several seconds before she responded, “I- she’s with a counsellor right now-”
You sharply inhaled, blinking and seeing Johanna, hearing her cry. When you opened your eyes again, you only saw the nurse staring at you anxiously, expectantly. You ran a hand through your hair. You needed to see someone. “Peeta then,” you said. “Take me to Peeta.”
Her fright seemed to increase. She looked at you like you weren’t in your right mind, which was right, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. There was something else in her expression, like there was something you didn’t know, something she didn’t want to tell you, but she nodded, anyway, agreeing.
This nurse was young, kind, and even a little naive. If you were in your right mind, you’d feel more empathy for her, be more compassionate or soft, but you weren’t. Your mind was in all of the wrong places all at once.
She reminded you of the nurse you had in the Capitol. She wasn’t there to ease your pain but to keep you alive, make sure you didn’t bleed to death so that you could go through the whole routine all over again the next day. She looked at you like that, too, like she was scared of you, even though you were the one that was powerless, even though you were the one on the brink of death.
Now you weren’t. You’re safe now, Boggs had told you. You didn’t say anything in that moment, but what you wanted to say was that he was wrong.
You’d never feel safe again.
Tumblr media
When the nurse brought you to Peeta, Katniss was also there, but she didn’t notice you, staring through the glass of a white room. There was a blond boy in that room, strapped down to the bed.
But this boy wasn’t Peeta.
He wasn’t Peeta at all.
“Y/N?”
You turned away from the sight in front of you to the voice that called your name. The voice belonged to none other than Haymitch Abernathy, victor of the 50th Hunger Games and second Quarter Quell, but you knew him better as the man who drank his sorrows away until he couldn’t remember all that’d happened to him.
You nodded in greeting, but didn’t speak. He looked like he had more he wanted to say but held it in as he glanced back at the room, a young blonde girl entering it and carefully going to sit on the bed.
“She’s too close,” he remarked.
“It’s okay,” someone else responded. You turned and saw a greying man on the other side of Katniss, recognizing him immediately as opposed to when you first met him. Plutarch Heavensbee.
You glanced to Haymitch who was already looking at you. He glanced at the Gamemaker then nodded to you. Whatever he was trying to say didn’t fully translate, and you didn’t understand why this man who had caused so much pain was standing right next to Katniss like it was nothing, but for now, you still remained silent, choosing to let it be.
Throughout this interaction, Katniss had practically been none the wiser, eyes fixed on the inside of that room. When you redirected your attention to the scene, you realized why she was so focused. You still recognized the blonde girl from the reaping, even though it’d been over a year since they took place.
Primrose Everdeen.
Yet little Primrose never went into The Games. Her sister took her place. This was Katniss’ sister.
We live in district 13 now, she told him, her voice soft, soft enough to tell you that even though she was surrounded by war, her childhood was still there. It’s a real place. Stories are true. A pause. You were rescued.
Peeta didn’t look fazed by what she was saying, his attention on something else entirely. The look in his eyes was contained, but you saw it. Anger. My family hasn’t come to see me, he said, but he was talking to himself more than he was talking to Prim.
Family.
You saw your mother’s face in your mind, but you weren’t sure if that was still what she looked like. The last time you saw her was a year ago, her face stricken with grief, tears leaking from her eyes.
She hadn’t come to see you, either.
And you realized it was probably for the same reason Peeta’s family hadn’t come to see him. 
At that realization, anything else Peeta or Prim said fell upon deaf ears. You couldn’t hear a thing, your song playing in your head on a loop, dancing so fast that the world blurred and you couldn’t see a thing.
Dancing, dancing, dancing, dancing, dancing, dancing-
“Y/N.”
The call of your name cut through the music, making you turn your head to see Katniss staring at you. You glanced around; Haymitch and Plutarch were gone now, so was Prim. It was just Peeta on the other side of the glass, kicking and yelling, people in scrubs going to sedate him.
You actually looked at her now, noticing the purple marks around her neck that matched the bags underneath her eyes. She looked different now, different from the last time you saw her in person and different from when you saw her on TV.
The Girl on Fire looked like her spark had been extinguished. 
And, suddenly, she reminded you of yourself now more than ever.
You nodded to her and then turned to walk away, but her hand caught your wrist. Like a reflex, you yanked it away, spinning around to face her. She muttered a sorry under her breath, making you inhale.
“It’s fine,” you replied, your voice quiet. She couldn’t be blamed for how you could no longer handle touch, neither could Finnick. You felt guilt wash over you as you heard his voice cracking in your head, remembering how you didn’t say a word to him.
He’s fine, you told yourself. He has Annie. 
Your thoughts were diverted away from him and back to Katniss as she spoke. “Has anyone explained it all to you yet?” This was a question, even though her voice was monotone while she asked it.
You wrapped your arms around yourself, thinking back to Boggs. “Yeah- um, a little.”
She looked at you like you were a puzzle and she was rearranging the pieces in her head, using what little energy she had. “Did they tell you?”
You furrowed your brows. You were just as if not more tired than her, your mind all over the place, too all over the place to understand what she was asking you. “Tell me what?” You questioned.
She didn’t respond right away, still looking at you as if she was trying to figure you out. Her eyes told you this story; however, her expression was blank. You’d seen snippets of her videos, not in full, never in full, but even from a snippet, you were able to see that look.
The way a victor looked.
When you met Katniss, you thought to yourself that she hadn’t been under the spotlight long enough to have been burned.
But with the spotlight they had on her now, she’d gone up in flames.
After a beat, she ceased her mental debate and decided to speak her thoughts. “I think we should talk.”
And she may not have known it, but what she told you may have just changed the course of your life.
Tumblr media
Katniss took you to her room, sat you down, and with her raspy voice, she explained your situation to you. I’m The Mockingjay, she said. And they wanted you, too, Y/N. They wanted the Princess of Panem and The Mockingjay to be the voices of this revolution.
You stared at her wordlessly as she went on, just listening. To her, you must have looked crazy, listening to everything she said without any reaction whatsoever, but you knew that Katniss had been dancing long enough now to read you, too. 
You were mind-blown. She was telling you that they wanted you to be a voice for the people, but wasn’t that so ironic? Your voice had been on mute for years. You were silent as you were used in the Capitol. You were silent as they made you go back and take everything from kids, kids just like you. Even when you thought you were about to die and had so many things to say to the boy that you loved, you didn’t say any of it.
How could you ever be a voice?
They chose the wrong person. Katniss was good. She was good at being The Mockingjay, good at saying the right things, and great at being a voice for Panem. But you? You weren’t cut out for this.
Why would she tell you this? This revolution had been well-planned and was proceeding fine without you. Why would she tell you this- why now?
You cut her off mid-sentence. “Katniss, what exactly are you trying to tell me?”
She paused as if she didn’t know the answer, either. Her red eyes glazed over and, for a few seconds, you both sat in silence. You thought she wouldn’t say anything until she looked back up at you. This time, her eyes were full of light, like she’d just realized she held the key to all she ever wanted, all you ever wanted.
And, in a way, she did.
“Hope,” she breathed. “I’m telling you that I have hope for a better world.”
A better world. 
Once, you had hopes, too. You hoped that your kids would make it through The Games. You hoped that you could be loved back by the person you loved. You hoped that you could one day mend your relationship with your mother. You hoped that you could be happy.
But each of these hopes were crushed until nothing remained but disappointment.
You didn’t have any hope left.
Tumblr media
After Katniss’ declaration, you sat silently before eventually leaving without saying a word. 
She was so young. Sometimes, you forgot that. She wasn’t a child, but she was supposed to be. She was supposed to have a childhood, not the weight of a country resting on her shoulders.
But you’d carried the weight of the crown for years now.
You knew better.
You abandoned the idea of hope as soon as you dived off that pedestal in The Games, and then it abandoned you for good the second you woke up in the Capitol. 
There wasn’t any hope left, not for you.
You got back to your room, ignoring your nurse who opened her mouth to speak to you but ultimately didn’t say anything, letting the door close in her face. It wasn’t personal. There were too many different people on your mind to think about her, so many words you said and didn’t say floating around, things you did and what was done to you.
You didn’t want to be awake anymore, to think about these things. Sometimes, nightmares offered more relief than your real life ever could. 
But as you went to go lie down, you suddenly stopped, seeing something on your bed that hadn’t been there before. It was a sleek black box, one that wasn’t so common back where you were from but became an everyday custom after you won The Games. You picked up, clicking the side button and watching light shoot of it and project an image in front of you.
For a moment, you could’ve sworn your heart stopped.
Because that image that the box projected was of Finnick Odair.
It was a video shot here, in 13, similar to others you’d seen, but you’d never seen this. This was the first time you saw him on camera since before the Quell. And this was also the first time you’d looked into his eyes since you left that night.
Even if you weren’t really looking at him.
Finnick was always charming, the corners of his lips always quirked upward. He had mastered this façade- oh, Finnick knew how to dance, dance around all of the hard topics, dance around everything that was wrong with your lives to make you seem like the perfect happy couple, like victors.
But he didn’t look like that in the video.
He looked solemn. And maybe even a little scared.
No matter his appearance, you could’ve never expected the words that came out of his mouth, never from Finnick, never from one of you, from a victor. But he still said them.
Your mouth fell open. For the first time since you arrived in 13, you let tears fall down your cheeks, though you didn’t know if you could stop them, even if you tried. They burned on their way down, rubbing salt into the bruises you could see and the bruises you could never fix.
May the odds be ever in your favour, darling.
The box in your hands clattered to the ground, the video cutting out as you ran to the toilet, but Finnick’s voice still echoed in your ears. You threw up what very little you had eaten, head spinning.
Dancing, dancing, dancing.
This song didn’t sound right anymore. This dance didn’t feel right anymore. You were so tired of dancing- you just wanted to stop.
But Finnick hadn’t stopped at all.
Finnick was still dancing. Katniss was still dancing. Peeta, Johanna, every single person in Panem was now dancing with you. They knew now. They could hear the music, too. And who would save them?
You had wished for years and years that someone would pull you off the dance floor, that someone would make it stop. There were so many people that knew, so many people that just let you endure it- let you all endure it. How could you let any more people endure anything close to that?
You couldn’t stand on the sidelines and watch as everything burned to the ground. No, you wanted to help them set fire to the Capitol and burn Snow alive.
Hope. I’m telling you that I have hope for a better world.
You may not have had this hope. There was no better world out there for you.
But you’d be damned if you didn’t try to make one for every kid out there that cried and prayed their name didn’t get called at the reapings. 
You would not get to live in this better world.
But you would make it in memory of the younger you that could have.
Tumblr media
You later found Katniss again, telling her that you’d do it. You left out the part about how you sobbed for hours at the recording you knew she left you because that wasn’t what was important right now. You were not important right now.
This was about something much bigger.
She took you to Coin, who cleared the room at the sight of you, a surprised expression on her face. “Ms. Y/L/N, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” She stood up, shaking your hand, glancing at Katniss periodically before looking back to you. “I’m sorry I couldn’t visit you sooner-”
“It’s alright,” you cut her off, trying your best to pull your lips into a smile. You had barely been in the room with her for a few seconds, but there was something about this woman that threw you off.
Katniss explained her story to you, how she was a widow, how her entire family died in a day. You sympathized with that, but Alma Coin did not remind you of a widow in the slightest.
She reminded you of the people you saw in the Capitol.
Clearly, she sensed the tension, giving you a smile and letting go of your hand, beckoning you both to sit. You sat down in the chair across from her, surveying the room, looking at the blueprints and papers sprawled everywhere. Your attention was drawn back to the woman when she spoke.
“So, how may I help you? I know adjusting to life here must be hard for you. But I will be here every step of the if you so need it.” You opened your mouth to speak, but she kept going, “You are an incredibly strong young woman. I cannot imagine what it must have been like to live through those Games, nor could I imagine what it must have been like within the walls of the Capitol.”
No, you couldn’t, you thought, but you didn’t say that. Instead, you gave her a stiff smile, hoping that all your practice faking it could make it look believable. It seemed that President Coin had some practice faking it, too.
However, you cut straight to the point. “Madam President, I want to help the rebels in any way that I can.”
Her mouth fell open slightly, as if that was the last thing she was expecting. She looked to Katniss again, like you were out of it. And maybe you were, but so was The Girl on Fire. So were all of you.
It wasn’t fair of her to treat you like glass because, the truth was, she was right. You went through The Games not once but twice, and then you were immediately thrown into the Capitol, facing horrors that you weren’t sure you could ever speak aloud, horrors that flashed before your eyes every time you blinked, even as you sat across from her.
But you were. You were sitting across from her. You were ready to do something.
You may have just been pulled from the Devil’s clutches, but you were ready to walk through Hell all over again if it meant you got to kill him.
Katniss didn’t waver. “So do I.”
Coin’s hesitance was easier than expected to spot. For someone who wanted to lead Panem, she surely wore her heart on her sleeve. Or maybe you had just gotten too good at this dance that you could spot anyone’s slightest misstep. 
Slowly, she cautioned, “You both are going through a lot right now-”
The brunette sharply cut her off, “That doesn’t matter.” Your eyes were trained on Coin, but if you stole a glance at Katniss, then you knew you would’ve seen the fire in her eyes. In a way, she hadn’t changed at all since the last time you saw her.
And you wished that was true.
“Send me to the Capitol- send us to the Capitol.” Underneath her demand was pleading. “I’ll do anything.”
Coin brought her hand to her mouth, an indent on her finger where her ring was supposed to be yet no ring in sight. “I can’t.” But she wanted to. “I can’t send you there. We can’t get into the Capitol until we control district 2.”
“Then send us to 2,” you spoke up, her eyes moving to yours. There was some emotion in her eyes, pity or fear, you couldn’t tell, but you didn’t want to know what you looked like to find out. “I can fire up your troops, call out to the loyalists. You’ve seen what The Mockingjay can do, and I don’t doubt that you know what I am capable of.” You paused. “Let us win this for you, Madam President.”
She was silent for a moment, continuing to stare at you as if she was waiting for you to break, to do something that showed her that you weren’t capable of this, but she wouldn’t get that opening. You wanted this more than anything, and you would stop at nothing to get it.
Finally, she blinked, and you knew you had her.
“It would be an honour.”
Tumblr media
You didn’t tell Katniss, and you certainly didn’t tell Coin, but a part of you was relieved that you weren’t going back to the Capitol so soon. You just left, and yet it felt like it had both been a world ago and just yesterday.
You didn’t know if you could handle it so soon, going back there. You could barely even handle looking at Finnick.
It wasn’t his fault. It was never his fault. You could never blame him, never for this.
How could you blame him when picturing his face was what got you through it?
How could you blame him when the only reason you survived was to find out if he was still alive?
They told you he was dead. They played his screams on a loop until you couldn’t tell that they stopped. His screams now blended in with the music so well.
Oh, you loved him. You loved him so much more than you could ever express. And maybe that’s why you never told him, but now you knew it was for the best. Finnick was strong, and beautiful, and he had a long life ahead of him with the woman of his dreams. You weren’t gonna get in the way of that.
You knew that you’d never truly be happy without him.
But you also knew from experience that he’d never be happy with you.
These were the thoughts that filled your head on the hovercraft. Even as he was nowhere in sight, his face was still all you could see.
He was here, too. You knew he was. Katniss told you beforehand. She didn’t know the whole story between you two, but she still told you. She had no idea how grateful you were.
You were hiding from him. You accepted the fact that the two of you would never get a happy ending, but that didn’t mean that you were ready to see him, knowing that. If you looked into his ocean blue eyes, God knew that he’d only pull you in and drown you in them.
You couldn’t do that.
It wasn’t fair to him.
It wasn’t fair to Annie.
It wasn’t fair to you.
And it wasn’t fair to all the people that were depending on you.
Suddenly, your thoughts were cut off the sound of footsteps came your way. You looked up, letting go of a breath you didn’t know you were holding when you saw it was just Haymitch.
He nodded to you. “Princess.”
You held back a scoff as he sat down next to you on the floor. “Haymitch.”
You still remembered when you met him. He was one of the first people to actually speak to you after you won your Games. For some reason, the others were too “intimidated” by you, but Haymitch didn’t have much left to be scared of, not when he went into an arena with 47 people and was the only one who walked out.
What you couldn’t remember was the last time you had an actual conversation with him, or at least the last time you had a conversation and he was sober.
“How’d you find me?” you asked, but your eyes were still trained on the floor. He didn’t seem to mind.
“I hang around here sometimes, go through the boxes and see if there’s anything medicinal in ‘em,” he responded, making you chuckle.
If he was looking for something medicinal, then you weren’t such a great replacement.
“Well, sorry you couldn’t find what you were looking for.”
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him shake his head. “No, I need to be brought back to reality, anyway. And you, uh, you do a good job at that.”
You snorted, sensing the compliment was backhanded, even if he didn’t see it that way. Or maybe he did, but Haymitch was never one to hold his thoughts in. “Why, because I’m so fucked up?”
“No.” A beat of silence passed. “Because you remind me of a human’s will to live better than those Games ever did.”
You finally looked up, seeing that he was already looking at you. The sincerity in his eyes was so strong that it burned into yours, making you look away before it burned just enough to spark tears. “I don’t think I’m the best example of that.”  
His reply came quick, like he didn’t even have to think about it, but he had no idea how much you would after he said it. “You’re still standing, aren’t you?”
Aren’t you?
You didn’t say anything after that, nor did you look at him, and he didn’t force you to. You spent the rest of the ride pondering over his words.
You thought of every painful thing you ever went through. The Hunger Games. Being sold. The Quarter Quell. The Capitol. Falling in love.
You went through all that, and you were still here. You were still standing.
Weren’t you?
Or were you just waiting for the right moment to fall?
Your thoughts were halted as you felt the hovercraft come to a stop, realizing just how long you’d been thinking. You both stood up, going to leave this room. Like most real conversation you’d had with victors, you thought you both would just pretend it never happened, but right before you were about to enter the main ops room, he stopped you, grabbing your wrist. This time, you stopped the flinch before it could happen, looking up at him.
Haymitch Abernathy was not a soft man. After being cut so many times, his edges were jagged and sharp, but looking at you in that moment, he looked more than just soft. He looked sorry.
He hesitated, like he wasn’t sure to say what he wanted to say or not, something unusual for him. He seemed to have made up his mind, telling you, “Stay standing, Y/N. There are still people out there that can’t do that by themselves.” Then he paused, eyes glazing over.
“Show them that they can.”
Tumblr media
Getting off the hovercraft, damage surrounded you. The once pristine nature of district 2 was gone, replaced by devastation, rubble everywhere. If this was district 2, then you couldn’t imagine that any of the other districts were any better, that your district was any better.
Your mind was drawn back to your mother before you shook it away. You couldn’t be thinking of that right now.
A man in black attire carrying an assault rifle greeted you. Not a Peacekeeper. But a chill still went down your spine.
You couldn’t really tell if it was because of the soldier or if it was because you felt Finnick staring at you.
He wasn’t far behind you, in the row behind you and Katniss with Boggs and Gale. You tried to ignore it, but that proved to be harder said than done.
Katniss carried her bow in her hand while a sword was strapped to your belt, lightly hitting your leg as you walked, but you got used to this feeling during your first Games. In a way, it was almost comforting, even though it never should’ve been, even though weapons should’ve never been comforting to a child so young.
But you weren’t a child anymore.
In your hand, you carried a crossbow, Beetee’s special arrows on your back. The sword was really only there for show. This wasn’t The Hunger Games; no, this was a very different and special game entirely.
This was war.
You wouldn’t be getting up close for combat very often, so a crossbow made more sense, but after The Games, weapons started to hold sentimental value, both for the victors and the viewers that watched them. For Katniss, it was her bow; for Finnick, it was his trident; and for you, it was your sword.
Suddenly, as you were making your way to the Justice Building, a bomb went off, shaking the ground and making you spin, your grip on your bow tightening. Your heart was beating rapidly, but Corporal Homes wasn’t fazed, even letting out a little laugh. “Don’t worry. It’s just how the loyalists say good morning.”
You let out a shaky breath, holding the bow tighter to try and stop your hands from trembling. You shut your eyes, trying to calm down, but all that did was bring you right back to the Capitol. Your eyes quickly reopened, but when they did, they met those ocean blues that you’d been trying to avoid.
Your body went rigid. It begged you to look away, but you couldn’t. You were pulled to him like a magnet, a magnet that scraped against you, a magnet that nearly stopped your heart with how strong it was, but no matter how much it hurt you, fighting against it was useless.
Concern swam through his eyes, along with another familiar emotion you couldn’t pinpoint. It had been so long since you last saw him, since you last really saw him. Maybe that was why you couldn’t decipher it.
But, really, it felt like no time had passed at all.
“Are you okay?” God, and his voice. How was it possible that his voice could both fill and create a hole in your heart at the same time? It was both quiet and loud, both sure and uncertain, and caring in every sense of the word.
So warm but made you feel so cold at the same time.
You just looked at him for a few seconds, as if you were hypnotized, until you realized you needed to respond. You nodded, afraid that your voice would crack if you tried to speak.
He looked like he wanted to say something more, but a hand came to your shoulder, yanking you out of trance. You turned to see Katniss, glancing between you both for a second before her eyes rested on you. She nodded towards the building and the rest of the crew who had walked ahead of you. You nodded back, walking away from Finnick without another word.
How did we get here? you wondered. 
We’re gonna be fine. Look, whenever you get nervous up there, you just hold my hand, alright? You’re not alone in this, okay? I’m right here.
He was right there. He was still right there.
But the difference between then and now was that you could no longer just hold his hand.
He was right there.
But you were still alone.
Once you had put some distance between yourselves and Finnick, Katniss whispered, “I’m sorry.” You turned your head, but her eyes were directed in front of her. “That looked personal.”
“No, it’s fine,” you assured her, and then you left it at that. Because, truth be told, you were grateful for Katniss interrupting you. You weren’t sure you would’ve ever walked away if she hadn’t. But you did. And now you had bigger problems to worry about than your love life, if you could even call it that.
You finally made it into the Justice Building, being greeted by both Commander Lyme and Paylor. While they lived in higher ranks, they were still soldiers. You appreciated how they cut right to the chase.
You and your squad from 13 stood around a table projecting a hologram of district 2’s mountains with at least a dozen other soldiers, more littered throughout the room with Coin on a TV in front of you. 
Lyme started, “President Coin, we’re indebted to you for the reinforcements, the Princess, and the Mockingjay.” She glanced at you. “But I’m not sure that anyone outside of 2 knows what we’ve been up against.” She pointed at the hologram. “This is The Nut. The Capitol’s headquarters for all offensive operations. It’s manned by both military and civilian personnel from district 2.” She then continued to explain what all more or less knew, that it lied so deep beneath bedrock that it was untouchable.
“Yesterday, we attempted to take the northeastern gate. The enemy countered from higher up and we were forced to pull back.” She momentarily looked down, her mask of a stone cold commander falling and showing the human behind it. “We took heavy losses.”
Another commander spoke up. “Could we create a decoy? Send troops towards one gate, launch a staggered attack on another.”
Paylor didn’t miss a beat. “Whose troops do you propose as a decoy, Commander?”
Although the question was not directed towards her, Coin still responded, “We have the Mockingjay and we have the Princess of Panem. Do not underestimate their influence. We could use them to erode support, sway some of the loyalists.”
“You’ve been underground a long time, Madam Coin,” Lyme said. “This isn’t like the rest of Panem. Support for the Capitol runs deep here.” And why wouldn’t it? When the oppressor had done just about everything but oppress you, then how could you see the oppression happening everywhere else?
Coin quickly retorted, “Then there is no sacrifice too great.” Her voice was like that of a widow: soft enough that you could tell what she’d been through but firm enough for the exact same reason. 
No sacrifice too great… but wasn’t there? 
“We need to control the arsenal inside that fortress. Even with every district in this alliance, we are outgunned.” All twelve other districts could band together, but without 2, none of you stood a chance.
No sacrifice too great.
“I won’t commit my people to a ground assault just to pillage weapons.”
“Commander Paylor, your people have suffered more than just about anyone else at the hands of the Capitol.”
“Which is why I won’t condone a mass suicide.”
“If we don’t take district 2, we won’t get into the Capitol.”
For the first time since your entrance, you spoke up. “What if we don’t have to take it?” You felt everyone’s eyes on you but yours remained focused on the hologram in front of you, unblinking as if you weren’t there at all. 
And maybe you weren’t.
Lyme responded, “What are you proposing, Ms. Y/L/N?”
What were you proposing? You couldn’t be sure. But you knew what you needed, and that was this war ending in Snow’s final breath.
No sacrifice too great.
“What if we don’t need The Nut to win?” You looked up. “What if we could take it away from them instead?”
Gale seemed to be the only one who caught onto what you were saying, or at least the only one willing to speak it aloud. “We could disable it, trap them inside or flush ‘em out.” He continued, gesturing the hologram. “If we can’t attack straight on, then couldn’t we use our hovercraft to strike around it? We’ll use the mountains; we’ll hit weak spots in the peaks.”
“We could design the bomb targets in sequence using seismic data.”
“Trigger avalanches,” you muttered just above a whisper, imagining it in your head. Something like this happened in The Games once, one of the years you were mentoring. It was catastrophic, akin to a bloodbath. It was a miracle there was even anyone left alive to fight for a victor’s title.
You wondered if Finnick thought of this, too, but you didn’t dare look over at him, looking back to hologram and trying to block the images of blood and terror from your mind.
But as you stood there and spoke about war, you didn’t know if that was possible.
Not when the war in your mind had still yet to be won.
“Block all exits, cut off their supplies. You make it impossible for them to launch their hovercraft.”
Paylor had a look of realization on her face. “Bury them alive.”
“We’d forfeit any chance to control the weapons-”
Beetee cut Coin off, “Yes, but we’d face a weakened Capitol.”
“There’s civilians in there,” Boggs interjected, stoic but any hearing person could hear the compassion in his voice. Civilians. Is that what they were?
You were a civilian too, once. Then you were a tribute, a pawn, a victor, the Princess. Did civilians still exist? What kind of civilians could support the Capitol? What kind of human beings could support the torture you were subjected to, the torture people in the districts were subjected to on a daily basis?
You wondered if your mother was given the courtesy of a civilian before the Capitol took her life.
You weren’t.
“They should be given a chance to surrender. Could use one of the supply tunnels for the evacuees.”
“It’s a luxury we weren’t given when they firebombed 12,” Gale said, as if he were reminding you, as if any of you needed a reminder.
“There’s gotta be a better way.” You were already so focused, but if you were losing attention in any way, Katniss brought it back, the disbelief in her voice audible to everyone in the room. She glanced in between Gale and you, but she didn’t get whatever response she expected of you.
Katniss may have had hope for the good of humanity, but you didn’t have that. The Capitol took that away from you without a second thought. She may have been driven by hope, but you were driven by anger.
There was no sacrifice too great.
“I suggest we try the avalanche, but leave the train tunnel alone,” Coin decided. “Civilians can escape into the square, where our armies will be waiting for their surrender.”
“We should have every available medic standing by.”
“And if they won’t surrender?” Lyme challenged.
Coin’s lips almost formed a smile. “Then we will need a compelling voice to persuade them.” And a voice was something she had.
The Mockingjay and the Princess, two sides of the same coin. Heads or tails, luck was on the President’s side either way.
You tuned out after that, letting everyone else talk logistics. Throughout the entire conversation, you didn’t hear Finnick say a word. He was perhaps the most talkative person you had ever met, and yet now, he had nothing to say.
He only looked at you the whole time, like an artifact.
And even as you walked away, you still felt the cold burn of his stare.
Tumblr media
You watched from a broken window of the Justice Building as the hovercrafts started, rubble blowing in the wind. The sight was magnetic, pulling you in to look at it. It was almost beautiful.
This world could’ve been beautiful.
You wished that this dance could have been more beautiful before it made your feet bleed.
You watched as the hovercrafts danced in the sky before dropping bombs on the mountains, dancing to the sound of explosions and then to the sound of cheers around you.
Dancing, dancing, dancing, dancing, dancing-
“This isn’t right.” A voice brought you out of your trance. You turned to see Katniss, her eyes on the scene outside the window, as mesmerized as you were. But mesmerized wasn’t the right word. She was stricken by horror.
Oh, if she saw what happened to you that could make you ever justify this. If she saw what happened to Peeta to make him hysteric. If she saw what happened to Johanna to make her numb. If she saw, then would she still be so transfixed then?
If she saw, would she still be standing?
If she saw, would she understand why you still were?
You stared at her for a moment, contemplating if you would say any of this before deciding against it, turning back and monotonously replying, “It’s fire catching, Everdeen.”
She scoffed, “And we’re lighting the match.”
Sharply, you countered, “Don’t forget that the Capitol poured gasoline everywhere first.” You turned back to see her already looking at you. A sigh left your lips. “They did this, Katniss.”
“And so anyone that had anything to do with it deserves to burn for it?”
No.
Yes.
“Did we deserve to burn, Girl on Fire?” You caught her off guard, anger slipping through the cracks of your voice, resolution filling your eyes. “Did we deserve to burn in those reapings, in those parades, in those damn Games as they all made a spectacle of it? All those kids and their families, did they deserve to burn just because the Capitol saw fit?” She was silent, tears coming to her eyes that she refused to let fall, so different from that girl you were with in the arena yet the exact same. Your eyes burned, too. “The way I see it, we’re fighting fire with fire.” You scoffed. “At least we’re giving them a way out.”
You didn’t stick around to hear Katniss’ response, walking away to find whoever would tell you what do next. You could’ve stood by that window for the rest of the night, watching as the terror unfolded, but you had more important things to do than watch the fire.
You had to go light a match.
Tumblr media
You examined yourself in the mirror blankly. You were donning a black costume, and a costume it was. Because what was a costume if not an impersonation of something you were not?
But someone thought that this was what you were. Someone thought that you could be a leader. Cinna did—or at least that’s what Effie Trinket told you. You didn’t know why she seemed to be in charge of “design” or why she showed such an interest in you, but you supposed it wasn’t so unusual for an artifact.
Your makeup artists did their jobs fabulously, painting your face until you were almost unrecognizable, until you looked like that girl from before The Games, that girl that the people of Panem knew and loved. With this makeup, you couldn’t see the circles under your eyes, the discolouration of your face. They made you look alive again.
On the outside, at least.
On the inside, you weren’t sure if there was any makeup that could repair the damage that’d been done.
Your hair had been braided into an updo, like a crown. They tried to give you back your necklace, the one Finnick gave to you before The Games, but you never wanted to see that necklace again, never wanted to see a rose ever again.
You would hate the smell of roses for the rest of your life.
“It’s time.” You looked away from your reflection to see Haymitch standing at the door. You nodded to him, glancing back at the mirror one last time before exiting the room. Katniss fell into step with you both as you made your way toward the train tunnel, but remained silent. You didn’t speak, either.
Soon, you were joined by the rest of your Star Squad, but you avoided any and all eye contact with Finnick. It’d be a shame to cry and ruin all that beautiful makeup on your face.
It’d be a shame to feel something right now when you felt so numb.
But you’d quickly be feeling a lot.
“Don’t worry, Katniss. There’ll be survivors,” Boggs tried to reassure. She glanced at him, but didn’t respond.
Haymitch was more concentrated on what you came here to do. “Let’s focus on what it is you gotta say.” He looked in between both of you. “Now, Plutarch wrote a speech that either of you can read-”
“No,” you both simultaneously said, briefly glancing at each other.
Haymitch sighed, throwing the cards to the side. “Okay, didn’t think so. Let’s, uh…” he stopped you both, standing in front of you. “But just remember you’re talking to everybody. Not just the rebels, but the Capitol, the survivors in 2. We want them to lay down their arms. So you- both of you might wanna experiment with a little sensitivity, warmth.”
They have the upper-hand, that’s what he was really saying. But you understood how this worked. You’ve danced this dance a million times already.
“Don’t worry, Haymitch. I know how to fake it.” He looked over at you as if he wanted to say something, but Boggs spoke before he could.
“Make it quick, you’re exposed.”
Katniss walked toward the tunnel first, turning once she was far enough to face the rest of you. They decided that she would go first. She had been at this for a while now, much longer than you.
You’re lucky, you know.
How so?
You just are.
Maybe the Katniss Everdeen that you met in the training centre was lucky, but this one, the one who shot an arrow at the force field in the Quarter Quell, the one who became a symbol before she could even blink… you weren’t so sure that this one was so lucky. Not anymore. Not in this world.
Luck didn’t exist in this new world.
“This is Katniss Everdeen, speaking to all of the loyalists from the heart of district 2-”
“Survivors! Inbound!”
The sound of the train’s horn became audible to you, its wheels screeching against the train tracks. Boggs went running for Katniss while a hand grabbed your shoulder. This time, you couldn’t hold back the flinch.
“We need to go, Y/N.” And then your body went rigid. 
That was your name.
That was your name coming from Finnick Odair.
You didn’t even notice when he moved so close to you.
You swallowed, nodding, but it was like your feet were cemented to ground. You couldn’t move. If you moved, if you turned around, then you’d be looking right into his eyes.
Oh, there was time when the only thing you wanted to do was stare into his eyes all day. And maybe the problem was that you still wanted to.
You closed your eyes, inhaling a shaky breath, and when you opened them, the survivors were jumping off the train, being forced down to the ground, guns pointed at them, loud noise everywhere. Suddenly, you couldn’t take your eyes off of what was happening, even as every bone in your body begged you to, even as your head spun.
Finnick’s hand was still on your shoulder, but neither of you moved. None of you did. 
Another man jumped off, looking disoriented, but what drew your attention to him wasn’t his appearance but the gun in his hand. The grip on your shoulder got tighter. 
“Drop it! Drop your weapon! You! Drop it,” Boggs shouted, aiming his machine gun at him as he moved in your direction. “Drop the gun! Drop it-”
Suddenly, a gun went off, and everyone was screaming. You ducked down, eyes frantically darting everywhere before they settled on Katniss, running towards him, yelling. Your eyes widened, a wave of déjà vu passing over you as you remembered this exact scenario in the Quell, Katniss running towards danger and you running after her.
And just like that, even though you were paralyzed by fear, you quickly shot up, running after her without a thought. “Katniss!”
“Y/N!”
“Stop! He needs help!” She screamed as you were about to reach her. The next moment happened too fast for you to grasp it, the man jabbing his gun at her chin and cocking it. You skidded to a stop where you were, your breath catching in your throat.
Boggs was shouting, but your ears rang. It was almost as if you could feel that barrel on your own skin, and maybe it was because you had.
Snow’s voice rang through your head, Tell me about the rebel plan, Y/N.
You’re gonna have to kill me first.
Oh, sweet girl. He had knelt down next to you. I will make you wish that you died in that arena.
The man’s voice shook you out of your daze. “Give me one reason I shouldn’t shoot you.”
“Drop the gun!”
Katniss was silent, staring right into his eyes, but you saw what was behind the brave façade she was putting on. She didn’t have a reason.
“She can’t.” His eyes went to you, widening as if he hadn’t realized you were there. You stepped forward, feeling everyone’s eyes on you. Inside, you were shaking, but on the outside, you were calm and collected. On the inside, you were just a tribute in this game, but on the outside, you were the victor that everyone had crowned you.
“We blew up your mine. But you burned her district to the ground- my district to the ground.” You stepped closer, your resolve hardening. “So I guess we both have every reason to want to kill each other, but, really, does that make sense?” You asked, not looking away from his eyes once.  “You know who I am. You know who she is, and I can bet that you know a few of the people standing behind me. So many people that the Capitol has rooted for, that you have rooted for- why would we be doing this? After the riches, and the glitz, and the glamour, why would we fight back against a system that has supposedly given us everything?”
Because they took everything from you first.
You took another step closer, putting your hands up when he jabbed the gun in Katniss’ neck. “Look around you.” He quickly glanced around before his eyes fell back on you. “Are these the people you want to kill? The same people that you cheered for?” Slowly, your hands fell. “Why are you fighting us? Why are you fighting the rebels? You’re neighbours. You’re family.”
He looked up at you for a few seconds, but those seconds felt like hours. In his eyes, you could see evil, chaos. But you also a sliver of humanity, and you prayed to God that you reached past the chaos to the humanity. You prayed to whoever would listen that he heard you. And, maybe, for the first time, the universe was on your side, because his gun slowly lowered to the ground.
You exhaled a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Katniss was stuck in a trance until you pulled her up, but you weren’t so focused on her. Your eyes panned over the people, your people and the loyalists alike, but they were all just people, you realized.
They were all just people.
“There is no our side or your side,” you yelled, backing away from the man and facing everyone. “There is only freedom and captivity. These people are not your enemy.” You turned, facing the rest of the crowd. “We all have one enemy. And that’s Snow.” Tears gathered in your eyes. “He does not care who you are or how loyal you are, how important you are—to him, we are all just pieces in a game.”
You pointed to your people behind you. “Katniss Everdeen, Haymitch Abernathy, Finnick Odair, Peeta Mellark, Annie Cresta, Johanna, Beetee, Enobaria- we are all that is left from three generations of victors. The rest of them are dead.” The faces of those that you killed flashed through your mind. “Slaughtered in the Quarter Quell or killed in the aftermath, it’s all the same. They were murdered by the Capitol—and it didn’t matter how important, or loyal, or loved they were- their lives were ended like they didn’t mean a thing.”
“And they would do the same to any of you if it benefit them.” You shook your head, raising your voice. “Stop killing for him.” You paused, breathing heavily. Your fight was not with people in the districts. Your fight was with one person and one person only. It was time that everyone else saw that. “Tonight, turn your weapons to the Capitol. Turn your weapons to Snow.”
Before you could say another word, gunfire erupted and you were falling to the ground.
And then your vision went black.
Tumblr media
“Please, I don’t know anything,” you sobbed, fighting against your restraints, but it was no use.
Snow tutted, coming out from the shadows in which he hid. “Oh, Y/N, I wish I could believe that.”
Your body shook. “Please, I’m telling the truth, I don’t know anything about a revolution.”
“And yet all of your comrades did?”
You rapidly shook your head back and forth, worsening the pounding in your mind. They kept telling you about an uprising, but you didn’t know what they were talking about. They said you knew, but you didn’t know. They said that Katniss knew, that Peeta knew, that Johanna knew, that Finnick knew, but they couldn’t have.
You didn’t know.
You didn’t know where they were.
You prayed that Finnick was safe, but if he wasn’t, then you prayed that he was dead. You’d rather him be dead than ever face what you were facing now.
“They didn’t. I didn’t- I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Snow looked at you silently for a few moments, and you had no idea what he was thinking. Then brought his hand up. You flinched, but his hand only went to your hair, petting it. The look in his eyes was almost something like pity, you realized, but it wasn’t real. You didn’t know how long you’d been there, wherever you were, but in the time you there, you learned that President Snow was incapable of sympathy.
You even thought that he enjoyed this.
“Oh, my dear princess… I would’ve hoped that you would’ve learned to be honest with me by now,” he sighed, and then he took his hand away and looked away from you altogether, looking to the Peacekeeper that’d moved to the wall. “Again. And let’s be a little more… effective this time.” He moved to walk away, and you shook your head.
“No, no- please don’t- please, please- no- no!”
You shot up, panting, your hands digging into blankets. Your eyes darted around the room and you realized you were back in your bed in the medical centre. A hand was placed over yours and you immediately shuffled away, your eyes going to the person and meeting blue, concerned orbs.
Finnick held his hands up in surrender. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s just me.” Your chest still rapidly fell up and down, but for some reason his presence calmed you down and put you into a panic all at the same time.
Only Finnick could do that to you.
You closed your eyes, blinking the remnants of your nightmare away, even if that nightmare wasn’t a nightmare but rather just the life you so happened to live. You’re here, Y/N. You’re alive.
But why?
“How am I alive?” you croaked, looking down at the dull bed sheets instead of into his eyes. It was funny: you looked down to avoid the blue of his eyes, but the colour of these sheets was so similar. 
What’s your favourite colour?
It’s blue, not really dark or light either. Sort of green- it’s close to grey, too.
Now that colour just made you want to cry.
Finnick didn’t say anything for a moment, as if he was shocked that you were even speaking to him. And you were, too. You hadn’t spoken to him in weeks, and if you went back to the last time you spoke, back in the arena, you would’ve never thought that this was how it would turn out. Even if you went back to just your first days in the Capitol, you still could’ve never imagined a reality where you didn’t speak to Finnick.
But you could’ve never imagined any of this happening in the first place.
If you went back to the night you met him, you could’ve never imagined how deeply you’d fall for this boy.
And you never could’ve imagined how much it’d hurt when you hit the ground.
Finnick’s voice was low when he finally spoke. “You were shot back in 2. But the bullets were stopped by your costume. Cinna made sure that it was bulletproof.”
Cinna.
The way people spoke about him, in the past tense, the way you hadn’t seen him anywhere. You’d figured that he was dead.
You wondered how many more people would die for this revolution before you could all be free.
“The doctor says you sustained minor injuries, bruised rib, bruised lung. But nothing worse than the injuries you came back from the Capitol with.” At that, you turned your head to face him, meeting his eyes immediately. His eyes were soft but almost hard. He was almost looking at you the same way he did after you volunteered for Annie. In his eyes, you saw care, confusion, sadness, some anger, and emotions you couldn’t name, but most of all, you could see the pure exhaustion weighing him down.
He stared at you for a few seconds, or maybe a few minutes, maybe longer than that—time didn’t seem to exist. “Why would you do that, Y/N?” He whispered. And in that moment, you knew you weren’t talking to the Prince of Panem, the victor of The 65th Hunger Games, or the soldier who wanted to build a better world.
You were just talking to Finnick.
And that scared you.
Your breath hitched.
Why would you do that?
Finn-
Why would you volunteer?
Because you had to.You volunteered for Annie because you had to, the same way you did what you just did because you had to. To you, there was no choice, only one path to follow.
“I did what I was meant to do, Finnick.” Even as you willed it not to, your body betrayed you, your voice cracking on his name, but this time, you kept eye contact. And even though you were talking to Finnick, the Finnick that held you at night and soothed you when you cried, your Finnick, he was not talking to Y/N, not the Y/N that he held and soothed.
That Y/N could not talk to Finnick, not this Finnick.
If she did, you didn’t know if you’d ever get her back again.
He was shaking his head before you even finished speaking. “No, you could’ve died.” I’m already dead.
“But I didn’t.” But I did.
“But you almost did!” You flinched as his hands went up in the air, and then he froze, freezing you with him. You flinched. You flinched like he was gonna hit you, and he saw that. You cursed yourself immediately, wishing you could take it back as the look that encompassed his eyes became hurt.
There were few times when Finnick ever looked at you like that, and you could remember each as if they just happened. You never wanted to see that look on his face again, to be the reason for that look.
Time stopped again. You didn’t know what to say. You wanted to apologize, but you couldn’t find the words. And before you could, time picked back up. Finnick’s hands fell down to the bed, and he looked away from you, lowering his voice. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Y/N.”
Tears welled in your eyes. He didn’t know what he was saying. “You could have the world at your fingertips, Finnick.”
“There is no world for me if you’re not in it.” He looked back at you. And you couldn’t tell if your imagination was playing tricks on you, but you could’ve sworn there were tears in his eyes, too. “You’re my world, Y/N.” And just like that, any hope you had of remaining invulnerable shattered and the dam you were trying to hold in your eyes broke, tears falling down your face.
You shook your head, silent sobs wracking your body. Did he have any idea the effect he had on you? Did he have any idea what he was doing to you? “Why are you saying these things?”
Something akin to a scoff left his lips. “Because it’s true-”
“No- no, they’re not-”
Finnick latched onto your hand, making you look right at him. This time, you saw tears trailing down his cheeks, and they seemed so real. “Y/N, I swear to you on everything I believe in that I’m telling you the truth.”
You wished it was the truth. You wished that this was real. You had been wishing that your pretending could become real for ages now.
But you’d danced this dance long enough to know that wasn’t gonna happen.
Even if Finnick had convinced himself that it would.
“It’s impossible.”
��I l-”
“Ms Y/L/N?” You both turned the source of the new voice, finding your doctor at your door. She glanced between you both carefully as you ripped your hands away from Finnick’s, wiping at the tears that’d fallen and the ones that continued to fall. “May I speak with you, please?” She requested, glancing at him.
He quickly stood up, but this time, you weren’t looking. “Yeah, I’ll, uh- I’ll head out.” He paused for a second, like he was waiting for you to say something, but you weren’t sure that you could continue to speak to him right now, even if you wanted to. When you remained silent, you heard his shoes pitter-patter against the ground as he made his way out of the room.
When he was gone, you exhaled and Dr. Terren looked back at you. She hesitated, “Did I… interrupt something?”
“No,” you breathed out. “Nothing important.”
She nodded after a beat, getting right into her medical talk, but she didn’t look so convinced.
And you weren’t sure that you were, either.
Tumblr media
You were hit bad, the doctor said, but it could’ve been worse. And she was right. It could’ve been worse.
You didn’t feel a thing. Lung, ribs—all you felt was heartache. Maybe it was good that you couldn’t feel the pain. But you couldn’t be sure.
She kept pushing the same idea: therapy. That’s where Johanna was. That’s where Peeta was. But that wasn’t gonna be where you were. Terren kept talking about trauma, about how this near-death experience called for you to talk to someone, but really, what good would that do?
Would that therapist understand? Did they go through what you went through? Did they understand what you were going through? You didn’t have time to stop and talk about your feelings, if you could even sort them out into words, nor did you want to reminisce over anything that happened while you were in the Capitol.
Even if reminiscing was all you could do. 
When Terren left, you ripped the IV out of your arm, leaving your hospital room to go to the other room they gave you. At least that one wasn’t filled with your favourite colour.
Your room in 13 was grey, like most things here. It was drab, but you wouldn’t complain. Anything was better than the Capitol. The door to your room slid open, and then you stopped. On your floor was the same black box Katniss left you, the same one you watched Finnick from.
Poison.
You swallowed, deciding to ignore the box altogether and go to your ensuite. You never wanted to see that video again. Watching it from that box was the first time you ever saw it, and it would be the last.
They must have gone through extra effort to hide it from you in the Capitol. They made you believe he was dead. You believed this was such conviction that, when you saw him again after the rescue, you thought you were dreaming.
You even thought you’d died.
You even wished you did.
As you looked at yourself in the mirror, dead is what you looked like. That bullet may not have killed you, but you still looked like a corpse. You’re very lucky to be alive, Y/N, Dr. Terren told you. 
Luck.
If luck was what kept you alive, then it wasn’t good luck at all. Luck would’ve been that bullet puncturing like it was intended to.
Your hand went to your ribs, looking at the bandages wrapped around them in the mirror. Then your hand travelled to your hair. Long and silky, so sought after in Panem. But as you ran your hands through it, you didn’t feel its softness. All you felt was Snow’s hand, petting you as you begged him not to kill you.
And then that turned into you begging for the exact opposite.
You don’t know how long you were looking at your reflection before you were opening and closing the sink drawers, your hands moving with a mind of their own. Part of you didn’t know what you were doing, but another part of you must have as you suddenly stopped, having found what you were looking for.
Scissors.
You picked them up, staring at them as if they were treasures, watching the light glare off the blades. You didn’t know what you were doing.
All you knew was that this feeling was tearing you apart.
And that’s all you could focus on.
Suddenly, your hand holding the scissors was moving. You still didn’t know what you were doing, but before you could find out, your name sounded.
“Y/N?”
You looked up, seeing Katniss stand in the doorway, confusion on her face that slowly contorted to fear. She glanced down at your hands, making you do the same. Quickly, you moved the scissors away from your wrist, unknowing of how they even got there.
You looked back at Katniss, your mouth opening and closing. You didn’t know what to say. Finally, you stammered, “I- I-” she looked back up at you and you realized that she, too, didn’t know what to say. “My hair. It’s- I want to cut my hair.”
That’s not what you were doing.
Katniss seemed to know that, not looking convinced in the slightest. She was quiet for a few moments, eyes on the scissors before she was walking towards you. Gently, she pried them out of your hand, as if you were a child holding a gun.
Then her eyes met yours. The eyes that were once hard as stone now looked at you with softness. “I’ll help you,” she whispered. She nodded to herself, repeating, “I’ll help you.”
You were grateful for her going with your story, even if it was just because she didn’t know what to say to what she really saw. She moved behind you, exhaling and getting ready right away.
And she may not have known this, but in just her walking in, she had already helped you more than you could’ve ever helped yourself.
Tumblr media
Muffled chatter came to your ears as you sat in one of the common areas. Most people ate in the cafeteria, but you couldn’t bring yourself to go in there. Finnick was in there, along with Katniss, and you couldn’t really talk to either of them right now.
With Finnick, you didn’t know where you stood. He said so much to you in your hospital room, after you were shot, but you didn’t know what to make of any of it. He was talking to you like you were more than just fake lovers—and truth be told, that’s what you were. You may have forgotten that for a while or pretended for too long, but it was fake. The dance changed every so often, but at its core, it was the same.
Finnick was acting like this was a dance you engaged in voluntarily, like this was a dance he enjoyed dancing. While you had no one you’d rather dance with, you knew it wasn’t the same for him. You saw the way he looked at Annie; you saw it for the entirety of your “relationship.” He looked at her with such tenderness and care, like she put the stars in the sky. The second you saw her, the second you saw the way he looked at her, you knew that you didn’t stand a chance.
But for some reason, in that hospital room, you almost felt like he looked at you that way.
And that didn’t make sense.
That didn’t make sense at all.
Another part of you didn’t want him to see you like this, not again. Katniss did, and you weren’t ready to see her so soon, either. It was a weak moment, you told yourself, but you were fine now. You were here for a reason—you were still here for a reason.
Show them that they can.
You didn’t have hope, but you were still the hope of so many people, the hope of Panem. You weren’t gonna let them down. You were not going to stand by and let Snow’s reign of terror continue. 
You made a pact with yourself. As Katniss was cutting your hair, you promised yourself that you would see this through. Afterward, it didn’t matter what happened, but you would fight until this country was free. 
Even if you died for it in the process.
“Looking good, Princess.”
Your head shot up from your tray and, for the first time since you arrived in 13, you felt a smile arise on your face. “Johanna.” Your tray was pushed to the side as you stood, wrapping your arms around her.
“Easy. I hear you’re injured.”
“I’m fine, Jo,” you reassured her, pulling away. She mirrored your smile, a sight you never thought you’d see again after what you heard in the Capitol.
“You always are, aren’t you?” She retorted. You only continued to smile, opting not to respond. She must’ve seen your discomfort—of course she did, she knew you so well—so she changed the subject. “It’s good to see you.”
“Ditto,” you responded, even if it was a little untrue. You loved Johanna. She was the first person you looked for when you got to 13, and seeing her right now made you so unbelievably happy, a happy you didn’t anticipate feeling for a long time, but it wasn’t good to see her like this.
She had always put on a brave face, was always so much stronger than you, but right now, she looked like she was barely holding on. Her eyes were hollow, bags underneath them that matched yours. Her face was pale. And the beautiful red streaks that had once filled her hair, the hair that she loved, was now gone. It was all gone.
The Capitol took it just to show her that they could.
And even though you cut yours out of your own will, they still took yours, too.
Eventually, she sat down with you, resting her head on your shoulder. Before, when things were bad before they got worse, you’d sit together in the Capitol, you, her and Finnick, and you’d pass time together, just like this.
Except Finnick wasn’t here.
However, you convinced yourself that it was for the best.
Annie. He had Annie. You volunteered for Annie, got yourself in this position for Annie, so that he could have a life with her, the life he always wanted. He may have denied it, or maybe he didn’t know that you knew, but some nights, he’d dream about her, talking in his sleep. He wanted to marry her, to have kids with her.
He could do that now. This is what you did this for, so that he could have his happy ending. Even if it meant taking away yours for good.
Like she was reading your thoughts, Johanna muttered, “How come you aren’t in the cafeteria with prince charming?”
You stiffened, but you still knew how to dance this dance, deflecting, “Why aren’t you?”
She lightly chuckled. “Good point.” She didn’t answer, even though you knew the reason why, just as she probably knew the answer to her question. You expected her to drop it, but you supposed you should’ve known better from Johanna Mason. She was silent for a few moments until she spoke again. “He loves you, you know.”
You sighed, “Jo-”
“That boy loves you with all he has, Y/N.” She lifted her head up from your shoulder, making you look at her. “Always has, still does.”
Oh, Finnick and you were incredible. You made the masses believe that the love you shared was real- he made them believe it. You didn’t have to do any work. It wasn’t acting for you, but you knew it was for him.
Not even Johanna knew that it wasn’t real. She might’ve suspected, but for all she knew, you two were really in love. You wished that was true. For years, you wished that was true.
But your wishes rarely ever came true.
“It’s not that simple,” you said.
She slightly tilted her head. “Isn’t it?” Her words echoed throughout your head. Isn’t it? It should’ve been. In a different world, maybe it was that simple. In a different world, maybe the two of you really were as in love as everyone thought you were. In a different world, maybe all those wishes and all that pretending could’ve been a reality.
But that was not this world.
So you didn’t say anything, instead resting your head on her shoulder this time,  conveying your thoughts to her without speaking them.
I wish it was.
Tumblr media
You lied on your bed in silence, staring up at the plain ceiling and imagining patterns of your own. Back at home, the ceilings had colourful swirls on them, muted tones swooshing together. But that wasn’t really your home. The home you came from didn’t have pretty designs or fancy furniture. The home you came from had paint peeling off the walls. The home you came from didn’t have furniture at all.
But that wasn’t really your home, either.
At some point, you think, that place was something like a home. When your dad was still alive, you’d wake up every morning to the scent of food cooking in the kitchen, even if it was only a bit. But then he died, and there was no one to buy food at all.
That year, you barely ate a thing.
The next year, you picked up the slack. You could still remember it, being ten years old and finding your father’s hunting gear. Going into the forest, you were scared. You didn’t want to harm an animal.
But you did.
And then you did it every time after that.
When you came home, you saw the way your mother looked at you. Somewhere inside of her, something cracked. Somewhere inside of her, she saw something that you couldn’t. And, after that, she started looking at you a lot less.
Five years later, you were sent off to The Games. You could remember seeing your mother in the crowd, but when you got into the Justice Building, she wasn’t there. You waited. And she never showed. But you held your tears and told yourself you had to stay strong, for her, because she couldn’t.
You thought about her in the arena. You thought about her when you picked up that sword. You thought about her when you took your first life. You thought about her when Bay died. And you thought about her when Claudius announced that you, Y/N Y/L/N, had won the 67th Hunger Games.
Was she watching? you wondered. Is she happy?
When you got back to 4 and opened the door to your house, her jaw fell. Like she didn’t know. Like she was shocked. Like she never thought you’d win at all.
Like she didn’t want you to.
Mom, I- I won. Did you watch?
Silence. I watched. I tried, I just- I couldn’t watch you kill after that first- that-... The boy. A boy your age. A boy you stabbed into. A boy who you watched bleed out. A boy whose blood was on your hands–and with the way your mother stared at you, you almost felt like the stains were still there.
And they might as well have been.
She hugged you. But it didn’t feel like she was doing it because she missed you. It felt like she was doing it because that’s what a mother is supposed to do. They’re supposed to hug you–they’re supposed to love you.
But you weren’t you anymore.
You moved into the new house together. Then, soon after, you were moving into Finnick’s, leaving the house to her. You think she was relieved, relieved that she wouldn’t be sleeping in the same house as a killer.
And now, as you lied on this rough bed in 13, there was no house at all. No old house, no new one, no Finnick’s house, no district 4 at all. No mom, either.
What was the last thing I said to her? you wondered. Why can’t I remember the last thing I said to her?
Tears gathered at the corners of your eyes. You couldn’t even remember when you last spoke to her. Your own mother. She was the woman who gave birth to you, the woman who raised you. Yet you couldn’t remember the last time you were in the same room.
And now you’d never be in the same room again.
A burning grew in your throat, but you didn’t let the tears fall, blinking them away. You’d cried an ocean of tears already. Now wasn’t the time to cry anymore. Now was the time to be strong. 
You never wanted this. You didn’t choose this, to be princess of a country that only abused its citizens, a country that threw you to the wolves then claimed they loved you when you came out seemingly unscathed, a country that wouldn’t have loved you so much if they knew just how scathed you were.
You did not choose this. But, for some reason, it chose you. The people chose you. The people believed in you. They believed that you were some sort of hero, coming to save them all from this villain that had hurt them all so badly. They didn’t know that it wasn’t true, that you weren’t a hero. They didn’t know that you were scared of the villain, too.
But if the people in the districts could believe in you, the people being bombed and attacked, the people grieving the loss of their loved ones–if they could believe that, then you could, too.
If the people of Panem believed you could be a hero, then you promised yourself that that’s what you’d be.
Tumblr media
“So I changed the chemical compound of the powder, adding more fluorine to excite the electrons, causing them to jump more rapidly from orbital to orbital and ignite faster as-”
“I’m sorry, what?”
Beetee paused, like he was surprised that you couldn’t understand. To him, it was so simple, but to most people, like yourself, it had no meaning. “Chemical reaction,” he reiterated. “I increased the strength of the chemical reaction so you can hit more.”
Your mouth formed an O shape. “Makes sense. That’s all you had to say, y’know.”
His mouth opened, likely to say something sweet and snarky as per usual when the two of you spoke, but he was halted by the door to the armory sliding open. You both turned to see The Mockingjay making her way into the room.
Your breath got caught in your throat for a moment before you regulated it, calming yourself down. You hadn’t seen Katniss since she walked in on you in the bathroom. The way her eyes met yours told you that she remembered that day well, too. But if you knew anything about Katniss Everdeen, it was that feelings were not her strong suit. If you knew her as well as you thought you did, then she’d pretend it never happened.
You hoped she’d pretend. If you knew Katniss as well as you thought you did, then she was just as good at pretending as you.
“You wanted to see me?” she queried, directing her vision to Beetee. A breath left you.
“Yeah, I wanted to show you both your new arrows. I adde-”
You cut him off, “He did something to the chemicals to make the arrows better.”
“Reaction. I increased the force of the chemical reaction.”
“Same difference.”
Beetee took a deep breath, closing his eyes and then reopening them. “Since you’re so… well-versed, you can explain it to her.” You snorted at his response while he wheeled away. Beetee always had the ability to make you laugh, even if it wasn’t his intention.
When you looked away from his retreating figure, you were met with Katniss staring right at you, realizing she was still in the room. Her brows furrowed, a light, light smile on her face that would otherwise be invisible to a stranger. “I’ve never seen Beetee get so… irritated.”
The tension in your shoulders dissipated as they shook with your laughter. Nobody had seen him get annoyed often, unless you were around. “Yeah, that happens when you're stuck in the Capitol with someone for years on end.” 
Beetee was always a pretty good friend. You met at a Capitol function, of course, and from then on, you made it a point to annoy him whenever you could. Besides amusing you, it also served as a reminder that he was a human, too, not just some Capitol pawn.
Snow didn’t sell Beetee, but he used him in so many other ways. You and Finnick were their pride, but insiders knew that Beetee was their prize. He was perhaps the smartest person you’d ever met, but you figured that, every once in a while, he deserved to let his guard down and just be normal for a few minutes.
And, deep down, you knew he wasn’t as annoyed as he seemed.
Even though you were laughing, the smile on the brunette’s face slowly dimmed as she looked down. Your smile disappeared. “What is it?”
She was quiet for a second until she spoke, “You and the other victors… you all seemed close.”
Seemed.
Pictures flashed through your mind, pictures of your time in the Capitol. Normally, when you thought about your time there, you pictured all the bad, all the conversations behind closed doors, all the grown men and women who used you when you were still a child. What you didn’t think about was all the kids who were there with you, all the kids who had to grow up just as you did.
Some of these people were people you killed, the same people you had conversations with, the same people who were going through exactly what you were going through.
You were close.
Until you weren’t.
You didn’t say anything for a while, letting yourself remember it all. “Yeah,” you finally responded. “Yeah, we were.” And you didn’t say anything more on the matter. You didn’t know what more there was to say. You cleared your throat, changing the topic. “Anyways, this is what Beetee wanted to show us.” You picked up the arrows, showing them to her.
She hummed, looking back up. You knew that she knew what you were doing, but fortunately, she went along with it. “Never knew you could shoot.”
“Oh, please, Everdeen, anyone who grew up in the districts can shoot.”
“Yeah, doesn’t mean they’re any good,” she retorted, shrugging. 
You narrowed your eyes. “Is that a challenge?”
She shrugged again. “I don’t know, is it?”
Another laugh left your lips, your third time laughing since arriving in 13. “You’re on, Girl on Fire.” You grabbed one of the non-incendiary arrows and a random bow lying on the table, loading the arrow in. 
You faced your body to the targets across the room, bringing the bow up to your ear, pulling the arrow back, and eying the red. The corners of your lips quirked upward and, as soon as you turned your head to face Katniss, you let it fly. The look on her face made your smirk widen, turning to see that you hit the target dead-centre.
“How the hell did you just do that?” She walked closer, shock etched onto her face. 
“Precision. And years of experience,” you replied, lowering the bow. “My father was a hunter.” 
When you looked back at her, she had a different expression, like she was remembering something. Her eyes glazed over. “So was mine.” Her eyes found yours again, and this time, there was something there that wasn’t there before.
Back when you met, she was just Katniss Everdeen, and you were just the Princess. But now, you were both a lot more than that.
It seemed that you and Katniss Everdeen were more alike than you thought.
Tumblr media
Right before the 74th Hunger Games, when you and Finnick were watching the training scores on TV, you didn’t think the tributes from 12 stood a chance, even though the girl had the highest score. 
Watching the Games, you disregarded them completely, even as they got just as many sponsors as your tributes. You watched as Haymitch Abernathy actually tried, actually cared for these kids, but not even that deterred you. 
You ignored the possibility of them winning at all. You wanted it to be your tributes, so badly. They were good. You wanted them to survive, one of them to survive, to make it out of this, to live the rest of their lives. But you should’ve known better.
No matter your best efforts, those kids died, and there was nothing you could’ve done about it. 
After that, you assumed it’d go to the Careers. Glimmer and Marvel were crowd favourites, flashy and luxurious, but not as cutthroat as Cato and Clove. A part of you even rooted for them. Maybe tradition would be broken, you thought, maybe it’d go to that kid from 11. Thresh had the determination and resilience to win.
That’s why you were surprised when you turned on the TV to see Peeta and Katniss as the last ones standing.
One of us has to die; they have to have their victor.
No. They don’t.
You were even more surprised when they both walked out of that arena alive.
Peeta became Panem’s golden boy, and he knew exactly what strings to pull, as if he’d been doing this his whole life. Katniss, on the other hand, was not a performer, not the performer you knew Snow wanted her to be. You could tell she was angry, but being angry was not her job.
You knew this because it wasn’t yours, either.
People like you and her didn’t get to be angry. You were supposed to be grateful for the opportunity that the Capitol so generously bestowed upon you, not angry or sad or guilty. That wasn’t for you.
You saw so much of yourself in her. And for that reason, you thought you’d never meet her. Too rebellious, too jagged, too questioning–she was nothing that Snow wanted around the Princess. You were right; you didn’t meet her.
Until the time came for the 75th Hunger Games.
You were surprised when she was the one who came up to you. She was confident and put-together, but you knew better. This was your dance she was dancing. You could hear the lyrics so well.
She was scared.
And she was angry.
Her attitude made you like her. You could’ve been friends, you noted, but not in this lifetime, not when she was meant to be your opponent. You never thought that you and Katniss Everdeen would be friends.
Little did you know, she’d become one of the only friends you had.
“C’mon, Everdeen. You’re going easy on me,” you said, holding your arms out. Katniss stood opposite to you, lightly panting with her hands held up.
“I’m just- I’m just tired-”
“No, you’re not. You’re going easy,” you deadpanned. “Stop stalling and hit me.”
The brunette hesitated for a moment before going in for a punch that you easily caught. “You call that a punch? Where’s that Mockingjay fire?”
She scoffed, yanking her fist out of your grasp. “I’m not going to hit you, Y/N. You were just shot-”
“Well, the revolution doesn’t care if I’m shot or not.” You gestured to your body. “I’m perfectly fine. So hit me like you mean it.”
“No-”
“Hit me like I’m Snow.”
She scoffed again. “This is ridiculous. I’m not going to hit you. You’ve barely healed-”
You cut her off. “Fine. If you won’t, then I will.” Without another word, you threw a sharp punch for her face that she narrowly dodged. You didn’t miss a beat, throwing another one right after, and another one right after that like rapid fire.
She blocked your hits, but your pace didn’t alter. The two of you moved around the ring, but Katniss' hands remained in front of her face, not once swinging. You weren’t relenting; you weren’t gonna stop until she swung back.
You had almost backed her into the corner when, suddenly, the wind was knocked out of you and your back was hitting the ground. The world spun. You blinked and you were back in the arena, lying on the ground with Johanna hovering over you. You opened them and you were back in the training room, and now it was Katniss that hovered.
“Holy shit, Y/N, are you okay?” Her eyes were worried and her voice was panicked. Holy shit, she actually hit me. With that realization, a smile slowly formed on your face. “What? Why are you smiling-”
She was abruptly cut off as you swept her feet out from under her, sending her to the ground right next to you. She groaned while you laughed, almost hysterical.
If the old you could’ve seen you now. You never thought you’d be friends with Katniss Everdeen, much less that you’d be laughing with her after she kicked you.
“It’s not that funny,” she heaved, but you didn’t stop, uncontrollably giggling. 
“You- you actually did it-” you cackled, tears in your eyes. She looked over at you, still panting, until you made eye contact and she was laughing, too.
You stayed there on the floor together for a while, laughing your hearts out. For all you knew, you wouldn’t get many moments like this for a while, moments where you could just lie down and rest. For all you knew, this revolution would kill you.
So there you were, the Princess and The Mockingjay, pretending that you were just Y/N, and she was just Katniss.
And for now, that made you forget about everything else.
Tumblr media
“Please. Please, I’m begging you- please don’t do it again.” Your shoulders shook with sobs, vision blurred.
“Ah, you know that that is not how the game works, my dear.”
“Please- please, I don’t want to play anymore.”
Snow tutted. “You know the rules. You give me something, and you get something in return. If you do not give me anything, then I will take something.”
“Please, I don’t- I don’t have anything more to give-”
He sighed. “Is that so?” He didn’t give you time to say anything else. “In that case, I won’t take from you.”
You blinked the tears in your eyes away to look up at him, a chill going down your spine at his expression. He didn’t look angry. No, he was smiling. “W-what?”
He hummed. “I’ll take from Peeta.” Your heart dropped. You pulled at your restraints as he turned to leave the room.
“No, please! Please, stop! Stop!” He ignored you, walking out the door and letting the door slide closed behind him.
And then the room went black.
You shot up out of bed panting, heart racing with your eyes darting around the room. The walls were grey, but there was a window. There wasn’t a window where you were in the tribute centre. Moonlight shone into the room. There was light. There weren’t Peacekeepers waiting by your bed, waking you up when you fell asleep. You were alone. You were safe. It’s okay. You’re in 13. You’re alive.
You’re alive.
Somehow, that didn’t make it any better.
You breathed in and out slowly, trying to regain control of your breathing like how Dr. Terren showed you. When you were rescued, you couldn’t breathe and you couldn’t be consoled. This feeling that you felt right now was like that, but you don’t know if any panic attack could ever compare to that one. 
You were rescued. But it didn’t feel that way.
It didn’t feel that way at all.
Once you calmed down or reached some semblance of feeling calm, your mind went right back to Peeta. You hadn’t been to see him since you first arrived in 13–and even then, you didn’t speak. He wasn’t really in a condition to be spoken to. That’s what you tell yourself, at least. But there was more to it than that.
There was always more to it than what you were willing to acknowledge.
As if your body was moving on its own accord, you threw your bed sheets to the side, slipping on a sweater and sliding your feet into the slippers next to your bed. Walking out of the room, you didn’t spare the clock a glance, walking with a subtle determination that many wouldn’t understand.
You called it a victor’s drive. It was a certain determination that came with fighting for your life, even if it meant taking another’s. It was not wanting to kill, but doing it anyway. It was not wanting to live, but doing that, too.
There were many things a victor did not want to do. 
And there were just as many things that you’d do, anyway.
A part of you didn’t know where you were going while the other part was sure of herself. Regardless, you let your body take you to where your mind didn’t want to go, making your way through the dark hallways with no sound other than your feet heard.
Before you knew it, you stood in front of the glass wall that you hadn’t seen since you first got to 13. On the other side lied Peeta, looking no better than the last time you saw him. His screams echoed throughout your brain.
Please! Stop! No-
You screwed your eyes shut, trying to block out the noise that surrounded you even in such silence. His screams quieted after a few seconds, but no matter your resilience or techniques the doctor taught you, no matter what, you’d never be able to silence your song. 
There was a time when you almost believed that you could escape it, the music. When Finnick and you were pretending, it felt like you could really have it, a family, like one day it would be more than pretending. But now you knew that wasn’t possible.
This song would never skip.
And you’d be dancing until the day you died.
When you opened your eyes, you were met with blue ones staring back at you, as if he knew you were there. You took in a sharp breath, scared, but maintained your stare. His hair looked shorter and more unkept than you’d ever seen it. It wasn’t so gold anymore.
Peeta’s eyes were blue, but not blue like Finnick’s. They were bright like the sky and full of a childlike innocence that you no longer saw. His eyes weren’t so bright anymore.
He looked like a ghost.
And maybe that’s what you looked like, too.
Without thinking, you went for the door, pulling the handle only for it to remain still. You furrowed your brows, trying again with the same outcome. That’s when you saw the pin pad on the side and realized that it was locked.
Of course, it was. They weren’t gonna leave Peeta Mellark in a room by himself with the door unlocked. Not this Peeta.
This Peeta had to be strapped down to the bed because his one and only objective was to kill the woman he loved. This Peeta wasn’t the same Peeta you met at the parade.
This wasn’t him at all.
With that realization, you turned around, letting his eyes burn into your skull as you walked away. You weren’t sure of anything, but what you were sure of was that you couldn’t be alone right now. If you listened to the music by yourself right now, you didn’t know what you’d do.
Your feet pitter-pattered against the floor in quick motions. You didn’t know where you were going, just that you needed to find Johanna. If you couldn’t talk to Peeta, then you needed to talk to her. 
Suddenly, you turned a corner and went tumbling to the ground. You closed your eyes, bracing yourself for the fall, but it never came. Slowly, you opened them and the first thing you saw were another set of blue eyes, not bright or vibrant, but your favourite colour.
Finnick.
Your heart sped up. Suddenly, you could feel that the hands on your arms were his. Suddenly, you realized you were in Finnick Odair’s arms.
You think he only just realized that, too.
He cleared his throat, helping you up and letting you go. As soon as his hands were no longer on your skin, you felt cold. You felt just as cold as when the two of you were in the Capitol, standing outside together.
Except, now, you couldn’t hold each other like you did then.
Even if it was the one thing you wanted more than anything in the world.
Your breath got caught in your throat as you realized just how close he was. He was right there, in front of you.
You’re not alone in this, okay? I’m right here.
Right here.
And not at all at the same time.
He looked at you quietly, not saying a word, but after so long, you’d learned to read Finnick well. He looked like he had so much to say but couldn’t find the words to put them in. He looked like how he looked that night, that night that you were in the Capitol and that poor boy and girl died, that night that you kissed for the first time.
But as you looked at him, really looked at him, he also looked nothing like the Finnick you knew. You’d avoided looking into his eyes ever since you got to 13, in fear of what you’d see, and now that you finally were, you could see that his eyes weren’t so lively anymore. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking.
Could you ever?
“What are you-” he cleared his throat again, “What are you doing up?”
At his question, you diverted your eyes, suddenly finding the floors much more interesting to look at. “I, um, I couldn’t sleep,” you reasoned. You didn’t explain why.
“Yeah, neither could I,” he muttered back, voice barely above a whisper. He didn’t explain, either.
There was a time when you’d seek him out if you couldn’t sleep, a time when you’d go to him if you had a nightmare. That wasn’t possible anymore.
If you danced with him, you didn’t know if he’d be enough to keep you from collapsing.
If you danced with him, you didn’t know how much longer you’d be able to keep going.
After a beat of silence, you spoke, “I should, um… I should get going now.”
You moved to leave, but Finnick grabbing onto your wrist stopped you. You masked your flinch, not because someone was touching you anymore, but because of who that person was. Your skin ignited so hot that it burned.
“Wait, can-” he hesitated, “can we talk?”
Your breath hitched, back still turned to him. His voice was pleading, a tone you never would’ve imagined him taking when you first met. You closed your eyes at the memory, feeling tears gather.
You wanted to say yes—oh, you always wanted to say yes to Finnick. His happiness became the only thing you strived for. You stayed with him even when you knew he loved Annie, you fought for her, you volunteered for her, you pretended you were okay, you pretended you didn’t love him, you pretended all the time. 
But you couldn’t pretend anymore.
A nation was counting on you. People were counting on you. People needed you. 
You couldn’t fall apart right now. And if you talked to Finnick, you weren’t sure you’d be able to put yourself back together again.
“I-” your voice cracked, “I can’t-”
“Please. Please, Y/N, I just need to talk to you.” You shook your head, holding in the sobs that were begging to escape. 
Why was he doing this to you? Why, why, why, why, why, why-
“Please.”
Y/N, please. I’m just asking you to trust me. Please just trust me.
Trust you to do what?
I just need you to trust me, Y/N, please. Trust me.
I trust you.
You would die for this man. You died for this man. And if it came down to it, you’d die again if it meant that he’d get to live in a better world. But you couldn’t talk to him now.
If you talked to him, then it didn’t matter what the Capitol would throw at you, what bullets you’d take. Those eyes would drown you.
You couldn’t do this. Not now.
“No.” You removed your hand from his grasp and walked away as fast as you could, even as your feet felt anchored to the ground, each step hurting more and more. You didn’t turn back once. 
The tears that you held in fell as you walked away, running down your face like a waterfall. You walked faster and faster until your walk escalated into a run. The door to your room slid open before you ran in, locking it as it closed. You slid down the metal and let out a sob, more and more following it. 
Your hands went over your ears, trying to block out the music, but it only got louder and louder.
No, no, nothing is okay! 
We will never be free, Y/N.
Ladies and gentlemen, our tributes for the Hunger Games.
Mom?
President Snow used to sell me. 
We are both coming home, Y/N, I swear.
May the odds be ever in your favour, darling.
You screamed in agony, nearly ripping your hair out, uncaring if anyone heard you. Your body shook with sobs and your heart ached. It hurt so bad. You never thought it could hurt this bad. 
You didn’t wanna dance anymore. You didn’t wanna feel like this anymore. You didn’t wanna feel anymore at all if this was all it’d feel like.
But it didn’t matter. How you felt didn’t matter. What you wanted didn’t matter. It stopped mattering the second you won those Games, the second you stabbed that boy. You stopped being a person and became the person Snow wanted you to be. You became the Princess.
And now it was your job to make sure there wouldn’t ever be another Princess, another you, another Finnick, another Katniss, Peeta, Johanna, Haymitch, Annie, Bay—it was your job to make sure this never happened to anyone again, that there would never be another group of kids that were forced to kill each other and themselves in the process. It was your job to make sure nobody else ever felt how you felt right now.
As you reminded yourself of that, your sobs gradually subsided and your heart rate came down. You weren’t okay.
But you had to be. You still had things to do- dancing to do. 
You were gonna dance one last time, for this country, for all the kids that died, for the kids you were, for the kids you could’ve had, for yourself, and for the man that you loved. You were gonna dance until you couldn’t anymore. You were gonna dance until the music stopped. And amidst all the unknown, one thing was certain.
The day the music died, so would you.
Tumblr media
It’s the things we love most, that destroy us.
Taglist: @avoxrising @mxacegrey @littleshadow17 @lovelyteenagebeard @nasyanastya @catastrxblues @zodiyack @zulpix-blog @mushroomelephant @muggies @lantsovheiress @hobiebrowns-wife @notplutos @faeriepigeons @hnslchw @unholyhuntress @aclmagic @gloryekaterina @ayme301 @lem0ns77 @kisskittenn @onlyangel-444 @moonagedaydream505 @spderm4nnnn @satellitespeirs @glitzcute @iammirrorball @corpsebasil @forever-sleepy-sloth @omwtkydttfym @divinelovers @maggiecc @i-am-a-simp1 @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @nelliereadsstuff @how2besalty @dreaminglandsworld @eilaharmonia @catvader101 @lexa138 @h0neylemon @dakotali @hermionelove @theseerbetweenus @whosscruffylooking @yourdailymemedelivery @emma-andrea1 @s1lngwns @meenyminymoes-blog @roxi-reid @rattertatter @sunnybunnyy2 @just-levyy @amaranth-writing @jennaaaaaaaaaaaa @joshhutchersonisdaddy @my-name-is-baby @hehehe13356 @quazsz @chloecharms23 @darlingsoulbeautifulthoughts @thehairington86 @imaegonstargaryenswife0 @ment1tavoid @hereliesme @tayrae515 @mottergirl99 @blackdxggr @giverosespls @erindiggory @feyretopia @bibliosaurous @sleila @soursonnets
318 notes · View notes
politemenacephd · 2 months
Text
Arachnophilia: Part Thirteen
Drider!Miguel O'Hara x Reader (+18)
Chapter Masterlist 🕷️
Content: Drider!Mig angst, mutual pining, hurt + comfort.
Tumblr media
Word count: 3600
Notes: The pain starts now, buckle in. Also I'm thinking going forward of adding more rivalry stuff w the Miguel's and also maaybbeee some voyeurism with them spesifically, if anyones up for that lemme know
For the entire walk back, you were both completely silent. He crawled into the nest and dropped you down on the bed, gentle but firm, and then immediately crawled back out to prepare for the storm. He didn’t give you a chance to call him back.
In this rigid isolation, you were forced to pace about the darkening room as he shuttered the place down. He was true to his word, ensuring that the windows and doors were fully covered and that there were no leaks. He was still making sure you were safe and warm, something you did appreciate, but his continued refusal to speak was becoming hard to cope with.
You paced, and paced, listening to the rain get harder and harder. In the distance you heard thunder crack. It was like white noise, overpowering all of your attempts to hear your own thoughts, weighing on your mind and soul.
Eventually you simply couldn’t pace any longer and slumped down onto the mattress to think.
You just couldn’t get over this order 1675.
You didn’t want to be afraid. You didn’t want to doubt him. Really, truly, you didn’t. But, how were you supposed to feel about this? He’d said he had no interaction with the HQ. He’d said he was just out here, alone. How was that possible if this order 1675 thing was also true? How well did you really know him? And what was so important that Miguel, despite being desperate to bring it up, was legally unable to?
You’d known him for a while, but, had you ever really discussed his past? Now that you were thinking about it, you really hadn’t.
It was hard to stop your mind from wandering to unsavoury places, the worst possible places. You didn’t want to sit here, wallowing in fear. You cared about this man. You’d given him so much, and he’d given you just as much if not more. You wanted to trust him.
When Mig eventually re-entered the nest he was soaking wet, and had to physically shake his body dry. He ensured the door was shut before slumping down onto the dry silk floor, and suddenly you were alone, just the two of you here with the rain howling outside.
‘Mig?’
The mention of his name made him bristle and freeze. He was hiding his face, something that you weren’t used to him doing.
‘Mig… What did he mean?’ you asked softly.
Again, silence. You saw Mig gently clenching and unclenching his fists.
‘What are you referring too?’ he murmured back.
‘The um- the section 1675, thing. That they couldn’t talk about.’
‘I… I can’t, talk about it, arañita.’
You squished your lips together and shuffled with discomfort. ‘You said… that you met Miguel, once, to be recruited. You said he was territorial, and left. You never said you had any other engagement with the society.’
When Miguel turned it was slow. In the dark of the storm only half his face was lit, his fiery red eye flickering as the lamplight danced.
‘I did.’
You were shocked to see that his blunt but neutral face was gone, faded away to reveal something deeply troubled beneath. You'd never seen those gaunt lines beneath his eyes before. He looked cold.
‘You- did you, lie?’ you croaked.
‘No’ he said, blunt as ever. ‘No. That was just, the partial truth.’
‘Can… Can I know the full truth?’
You were trying to be gentle with your words, but it was hard to not sound concerned. You saw his red eye narrow, and in the dark it was hard to tell if it was out of anger or pain.
‘It- I don’t, know, how’ he said. He sounded like it hurt to talk. ‘It happened a long time ago, arañita. They signed a deal saying that it would be stricken from my record. That’s what 1675 means, it’s the process for wiping an incident so it can’t be used in the future because the person was exonerated. Miguel- wanted to bring it up to, well, punish me I suppose, but it meant he couldn’t.’
‘Okay, just… I’m just, asking then, what was it?’
Again, Mig went still. He went silent. A good five minutes passed without either of you saying a word.
‘You really won’t tell me anything?’ you whispered.
You watched as Mig turned to face you fully. The pounding rain created an oppressive air, especially combined with the overwhelming darkness. His eyes were the only clear part of his face, their red light crudely illuminating his sharp features.
He didn’t speak, but he did move. To your surprise he suddenly rose up and began walking towards you.
‘Mig, I just- I want to know—’
He reached out to grab you, and then he stopped. You froze in his grip.
He’d put just a single hand beneath your head, cupping it to his chest. You felt his heart beating irregularly beneath his hefty ribs, his breath coming in shaky fragmented gulps.
‘I’m sorry’ he murmured.
‘Mig, what- what are you sorry for?’
‘I forgot.’
Those two words brought your awkward attempt at consolation to a halt. When you looked up and spied his face through the dark, he wasn’t looking at you. He was looking at nothing, perhaps seeing something you couldn’t see.
‘I forgot what I am’ he breathed. It sounded painful, like each intake of breath was burning.
‘Mig?’
‘Arañita, I can’t lie to you’ Mig whispered. ‘I can’t. You know that. So if you ask me, I will tell you it all. I need you to know that.’
Those words were so eerily in this context. Did you want to know? Did you need to know? You hated yourself for it, but, you did.
‘Yes’ you breathed. ‘I… I am asking you, please, Mig, to tell me.’
You felt him shudder. Despite his reservations, his fears, he was still honest to a fault. He spoke.
‘I… Arañita, I-I killed someone.’
You stared straight ahead as silence fell. You didn’t know how to respond. Really, how could you respond?
‘I’m sorry’ he rasped. You saw his eyes filling to the brim, causing the red of his eyes to dance. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘Mig…?’ You whispered his name, letting it hang in the air as you both trembled in unison.
You were waiting, praying, for an explanation. You were praying for something. Anything. Surely, Mig had a reason, right? There had to be more to this?
For a fleeting second, your body tensed. For a single, fleeting second, you realized you were scared of him. You prayed to not be.
‘Mig, what- what happened?’ you croaked.
You could feel his heartbeat speeding up in his chest, hammering like a frightened bird in a cage. ‘I-I didn’t want to do it’ he gasped, ‘I didn’t- I swear. It- was someone, very close to me, and—’
‘It’s okay. It’s okay. I’m listening’ you said, trying in vain to reassure yourself. He took a moment to collect himself before continuing.
‘They- When I was changed, at Alchemax, it was- chaos. Someone had sabotaged the genetic splicing machine to kill me. I wasn’t supposed to survive. I certainly wasn’t supposed to be- this. This, monster. I was scared of myself, I didn’t know what to do or how to fix it. I was panicking. So… so, I went to someone I thought I could trust. I thought they would- I thought, they would help, because they’d always helped me before, but... I couldn’t talk them down, I couldn’t—’
He paused to breath in deep, his breath rattling his chest.
‘I—I tried, arañita I swear on my soul I tried, but they were too scared. They could never get passed what they saw in front of them. They didn't see- me, anymore. It was like I was dead already. They tried to kill me, the- they grabbed a gun, from a drawer, and my body- reacted. I tried to just turn the gun away but their finger was already pulling and—it hit them.’
You exhaled slowly, releasing a breath you’d been holding for far too long. ‘So- it was, self-defence?’ you murmured.
‘Yes. Technically, it was self-defence’ he said with a heavy swallow.
‘And… Miguel was going to use that against you?’ you asked in disbelief. ‘Why? Why would he do that?’
Mig tensed to a painful degree. Something seemed to be flashing over his eyes. It was a memory, old and worn, of someone whose face he was forgetting. Like a painting in water, its colour slowly seeping away, he clung to those remnants. You felt him shake.
‘It was m—mm… Mmm.’ He screwed up his eyes tight. ‘The person, I killed, w… The person I killed was my fiancé, at the time. Her name was, Dana.’
The rain roared overhead, screaming like a beast. It shook the nest a little as the wind ripped through the trees. Miguel looked haunted.
‘I should have called my brother’ he whispered. ‘I—I shouldn’t have answered her call. I was meant to call my brother. I should have… I should have—’
‘Hey, shh. It’s okay.’ You tried to reassure him by taking his hand, letting him feel each one of your fingers to keep him grounded. ‘We can stop, but- I’m here. If you want to keep going. It’s okay.’
It took a moment, but you felt him settle.
‘The- the spider society found me not long after it happened’ he said, continuing in a trance. ‘Miguel had been planning to recruit me when he’d seen my change, hoping to have another version of him around, but… he found, me. And he found her.’
His eyes glazed over as those long-repressed memories crept across his mind like tar, an inescapable choking flood of remorse. He saw the blood on the carpet, the blood on his talons as he plugged the wound, his variants face when he realized what he’d done. It took your gentle face taps to draw him back to the present moment.
‘Mig?’ you whispered. He shuddered a gasp and tried to continue.
‘Me and Miguel… Our lives, before the splice, were almost identical. Same job, same parents, same body, and same- same, fiancé. His version of Dana just left after he changed, after he found out about his past, but mine…’
Mig paused again to avoid cracking. You kept your hands on his stomach, slowly rubbing over the fine contours of his muscles to keep him grounded.
‘He was disgusted by me, but he was still sympathetic, in a way’ Mig said. ‘I think I just proved him right about his own tendencies. I was exonerated by the society, on self-defence, and it was stricken from any record so long as I agreed to stay away from other people, so… so they didn’t get, hurt, out of- fear.’
‘Mig, that—’ You couldn’t even get the words out. It horrified you. He was almost murdered because his body scared someone he’d trusted, and he was then told to isolate? To remove himself, so he didn’t tempt anyone to try and murder him again?
‘I was exonerated, but… Arañita, I killed someone to keep living. Someone- better than me. Someone with a life, with- love and aspiration and family, and—why? Why did I survive?’
Even with your touch grounding him in the moment he was continuing the spiral. He couldn’t stop his memories from seeping into his vision. He couldn’t stop seeing the same wound on your side, or the blood on his claws.
‘I forgot…’
Mig choked back the urge to crack. Oh god. Was Miguel right?
Was this, right? No. No. In that moment, the reality of it all hit him like a bullet to the gut.
He’d been deluding himself, hadn’t he? High on the rush of being wanted, of having this unobtainable thing, but it was unobtainable for a reason.
He was a monster. He was a horrible genetic failure, who most of the world saw as malformed and mishappen. They would hate him for desiring you. HE hated him for desiring you. You would never get to experience a normal life if you stayed here with him, unable to have a normal family or a normal home.
In the woods you could forget the prying eyes of the world and exist on your own terms, open and honest, but could you hide forever?
He’d always hated Miguel for treating him differently, for beguiling him as a manifestation of his own internal issues, but could he really blame him for it? Miguel could pass for human. He was beautiful, strong, respected. Some string of fate that had failed for Mig had, on a coin toss, granted his counterpart the right to pass in a world where he was loved. No wonder he felt so entitled.
And you, you, his sweet little spider. The one person who hadn’t hurt him, who hadn’t run from him in fear. He’d wanted to believe it so badly. He’d wanted to believe that your optimism would be enough.
But he did not pass.
He was not a threat. He was not a danger. He was guilty only of existing in a body, but that didn’t matter. It didn’t matter whether their fear was rational or not. He was a spider, after all, and—
‘Everybody hates spiders’ he whispered. You gazed up at his broken face with misty eyes.
‘Miggy?’ you whispered back. His eyes narrowed as he winced, as if just the thought was physically painful.
‘Why’ he breathed, both a question and a statement at once. ‘Why? I-I tried, I tried—’  
‘Miggy—’
‘What did I do?! I tried to do the right thing and this— This—’
‘Miggy, hey, sweetheart. Look at me. Look at me.’
‘Why wasn’t I made like him? What was so wrong with me?’ he seethed, his voice peaking and cracking as he verged on wailing. Immediately your hands flew to his waist. You clung to him as his chest heaved, his breathing quickly becoming erratic.
‘I’m disgusting’ he choked. ‘I’m disgusting—’
‘Hey, hey. I’m here. I’m here.’
‘I’m ruining you’ he shouted, his voice raising for the first time. 'Look at me! Look at me, and then look at you!'
He pushed you back a little to make you see, to make you see his bloody red eyes and malformed torso, the way his human half blended into that enormous spider half. The fur on his abdomen, the deep scars and claws on each paw, the furthest thing from human. A body that your brain was hardwired to recognise as alien.
'I can’t give you anything!' he sobbed. 'They’ll- they’ll hunt you down, for the rest of your life if you stay with me. They won’t let us have a family, they won’t let us stay together—’
‘I don’t care.' 
Mig paused, briefly, in the face of your quiet interuption. You were unnervingly calm. ‘You do!’ he wailed. ‘Of course you do! You will be miserable because of me!’
‘I don’t.’ You clung to him tight as you whispered those words, your hands frantically stroking his back to try and ground him again. ‘I don’t. I don’t. I—I don’t, care.’
‘Why?’
You pulled back briefly to take his face in your hands. You squished his cheeks against your palms as your thumb gently wiped away a tear from his eye. He heaved at you, his lips parted and his eyes a painfully bloody red, and you met him without a shred of fear in your eyes.
‘Look at me, Miggy. Right here. It’s okay.’
Mig struggled to meet your gaze. His eyes kept closing, flitting, as if it hurt. You tried to press a kiss to his lips but he sharply flinched, so instead you kept his face in one palm and with the other you raised his hand to your lips. You kissed his claws instead, one after the other.
‘Fuck ‘em’ you said, blunt and clear. The bluntness seemed to draw Miguel out of his spiral for just a moment.
‘What?’ he panted.
‘Fuck them’ you repeated. ‘Fuck them. Fuck Miguel. Fuck- all of them. It’s- disgusting, THIS is disgusting. You should never have been left out here. You should never have had to sign away your right to contact. I don’t care if they pull out every fucking excuse in the book to keep me away, I won’t give them anything to use. I won’t leave you.’
‘But… the, family— The rule about, reproducing—’
‘That’s not enough to make me just leave you right now!’ you exclaimed. ‘I don’t know what’ll happen in the future, but there’s options. Surrogacy, adoption, or just- maybe we don’t want kids. I mean- fuck, even if we don’t have a future romantically, I won’t just leave you, Mig. I won’t.’
‘But—’
‘If I leave you, Mig, it will be on my own terms. In a year, two years, twenty years. Maybe we just- aren’t compatible, maybe we change, or- maybe we don’t. I don’t know. But I’m not walking out because of someone else’s irrational fear. You- you’re still my friend. No matter what, you’re still my friend.’
As your words hung in the air, Mig began to soften. His mind stopped playing tricks on him, showing him her instead of you, because she never looked at him this way. Those sweet, defiant eyes bore down into his soul, and warmed it from the inside.
‘I was scared, when I saw you first’ you confessed. ‘You know that. On instinct, you scared me. And I- HATE myself for that. Because you are so, sweet, and soft, and kind, and the fact you could still care about me after I showed you the same fear—’
‘No, no. You didn’t. And that- that’s what I don’t understand’ he insisted. ‘Why do you like me?’
‘Because you’re- you. That’s it. You’re you.’
Mig narrowed his eyes. He seemed so confused, like he couldn't figure out how to believe you. 
‘You would- risk this, for me?’ he murmured.
‘You’ve clearly risked just as much, Mig. The last person you loved tried to kill you, the- the fact that, you trusted me enough to let me into your home, to sleep in your bed, that you tried to help me at all… I can’t imagine it.’
The rain continued to thunder outside as Miguel calmed his breathing. He was still hurting, still in a semi state of mania, but he was starting to claw back a semblance of strength. He clung to you a little tighter.
He fixated wholly on one memory, a buoy in an ocean of blood: the first day you met, when you looked at him in his defensive stance, and you said: ‘Have, other people come here to hurt you?’
He didn’t scare you, you’d said. He seemed nice, you’d said. We’re both strange on the inside, you’d said. Words more precious than diamonds. Words more precious than living.
‘I think… I understand now, why spiders eat each other’ he murmured.
You frowned with your hand still on his cheek. ‘You- what? What do you mean?’ you asked.
‘I would let you eat me’ he whispered, as one more fat tear fell like a bloody pearl down the cut of his cheek bone. It glistened as it hit your thumb, a precious stone filled with a tiny little part of his soul. You shook your head.
‘Mig, don’t- that language isn’t healthy right now—’
‘I would let you eat me’ he repeated. His voice was throaty from holding back tears. ‘Every- ounce of flesh, every bone, every atom. You would take me in, and I would finally become part of something beautiful. I would haunt your beautiful body, and look through those beautiful eyes, and we would be- magnificent.’
Your lips folded, hard, as your own eyes narrowed. The tears were painful.
‘No. You’re beautiful to me’ you croaked. ‘So just- stay. As you are.’
You leaned in and pressed your forehead to his, and this time he didn’t pull away. You rocked with him as the storm rattled the shutters, as rain pounded on the nest roof above.
Slowly, with absolute delicacy, you pressed your lips to his. You gave one peck before pulling back, and from there you let him lead. He kissed you with quivering lips, first on the mouth and then on the cheek, before ending with one, long, drawn out kiss.
When he pulled away his breathing had become a little more regulated.
‘So’ he whispered, ‘so- what do we do? What do we do now?’
You let out a heavy breath through the nose as you pondered that same question. ‘I guess… we just, keep, trying. I will go back to the society, and I’ll do what they ask me to do as a member, and—I’ll stay. With you. And we’ll see how things go.’
‘But they threatened to regulate us’ he said.
‘They said we can’t have kids. That’s it. And, even then, I’m sure I could get them to research if it’s actually dangerous. Other than that, they can’t do anything. So, we just keep going.’
Mig sighed, his warm breath hitting your face. ‘And, you’re sure you want this? You want to, try, with me? Even after this?’
You locked your gaze onto Mig’s. His eyes were red to the core but round like a puppies, soft and wet and needy. His thick brows were downturned in a hopeless expression of need. It was easy for you to nod.
‘Yes. I want to try. Now, come on, let’s- lie you down.’
You shuffled backwards onto the mattress and Mig obediently followed, his entire spider half gently curling around you. He curled into a circle with his legs folded inward, cocooning you in his warmth, and you listened to the storm burn itself out.
The thundering rain turned to a drizzle, until all you could hear was the pitter of drops on the roof. The lanterns on the wall burned their wax stubs to nothing. Soon the only light in the nest was a single strip of blue moonlight that’d broken through a shutter, its delicate glow highlighting your bodies as they intertwined.
In the warm and the dry you settled against his chest. You felt his heart on your cheek and rubbed his body for comfort, and he clung to you like a little plush toy.
‘Arañita?’ he whispered.
‘Yeah?’
‘Thank you’ he choked. ‘Thank you. Thank you.’ Link to next part!
177 notes · View notes
yanderes-galore · 5 months
Note
Darling escaped Wesker and is hiding from him, being constantly paranoid and all. She takes a hike and gets captured by the Las Plagas cult but before they can do anything Wesker arrives (because he was conveniently around, watching Ada). How would the reunion be like? - 🐈 anon
I was confused at first but found out you meant the Separate Ways DLC. Here you go! Did a concept as not specified.
Edit: I only just saw this was meant to be a female darling I'm so sorry, but I hope you like it despite my mistake- 💀 The only gender related thing is in one thing Wesker said anyways-
Yandere! Wesker "saving" Kidnapped! Darling
(RE4: Separate Ways)
Pairing: Romantic
Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Kidnapping, Possessive behavior, Stalking, Violence, Thoughts of murder mentioned, Forced relationship.
Tumblr media
The whole scenario just sounds unfortunate for you.
From one bad situation to another.
Then potentially back to the first one.
Escaping Wesker is a feat within itself.
He usually always has an eye on you although he isn't as deadly as he is in RE5.
He may even be impressed that you managed to slip by, if not annoyed.
Not only is escaping a feat but hiding from him is also an achievement.
So to stay away from Wesker's sight you hide in the woods.
For awhile you learn to survive.
You take hikes to stay in shape and find food as you go.
You yearn for your old life... the one before Wesker.
Hikes have been the only way you were able to cope.
At least... that was until you encountered Los Illuminados.
The reason for taking you in could be for any number of things.
However the most likely reason would be for experimentation.
Injecting people with Las Plagas makes the cult grow.
It just so happens you were a vulnerable target.
They most likely had no idea who you were (unwillingly) connected to.
As a result you are chased and dragged to a cell for later use.
Around this time Wesker would've sent Ada to look for the amber he needs for his virus.
He may have even asked her to find you if she was able to.
Wesker is no doubt searching for you ever since you managed to leave his gaze.
He'll admit it's felt... odd to not have you around.
He doesn't like the feeling of being unable to hold you, feel your warmth, or breathe your scent.
As a result he's been on edge.
Not only must he make his virus but he also needs to have you by his side again.
Imagine his surprise (and anger) when he sees footage of you being carried away through Ada's lenses.
Wesker knows if they hurt you he's going to gut them all.
Plans have changed. He orders Ada to keep an eye on you while looking for the amber.
He's finally found you again... and he plans on retrieving you along with the amber.
As a result you end up meeting Ada.
You have no idea she's working with Wesker or why she's here.
All you know is once she sneaks into the prison and stands in front of your cell, you're saved.
Wesker most likely didn't say why you were so important.
He doesn't need Ada to know your past.
You and him have had history, romantic history in his eyes, and he'd just about blow up this entire island to have you.
If Wesker really can see footage through Ada's cameras then he watches the screen intently.
You look so dirty, malnourished, and unkempt.
He can fix that once you're back in his arms.
He wonders as he watches you if he should be punished.
However, the fact you were kidnapped by the cult seems punishment enough.
It only proves the reason he took you in to begin with.
You're weak without him... you need him in order to be stronger.
Surely you'll learn such a lesson by the time he comes to pick you up.
The moment Wesker comes onto the island, he calls Ada and demands she brings you to him.
Until then he watches the island to catch sight of you.
He's been patient with you... but you have to come back with him now.
Right where you belong.
It's a sad sight to see.
You trusted Ada to save your life, what does she do in return?
She brings you right back to Wesker.
The moment your eyes land on the blonde haired man, you try to go the other way.
You shake your head but Ada nudges you in front of her.
"You've managed to retrieve them, but what of the amber?" Wesker asks Ada before beckoning you closer.
There's silence between you as Ada explains she still needs to find the item.
You feel betrayed as Wesker sends her away before turning to you.
"I applaud you for making it this long. But you must know you weren't going to last long."
You're roughly dragged into Wesker's chest as he checks you over.
He's checking for scratches and signs of any parasite you could've been infected with.
If you were hurt his mind is set.
"For now... you're punished enough." Wesker tells you, but he doesn't let go. "But I'm not done here."
"You're going to take me back..." You whisper, defeated.
"This is only proof that you can't survive without me. You got yourself captured by someone else." Wesker frowns, annoyed.
"They won't leave this place alive. None of them will."
You stay silent, feeling Wesker stroke your head before kissing the top of it.
He hasn't been able to feel you in so long.
He feels you struggle a bit but he doesn't care.
All that matter is he has you again.
He'll make sure you're brought back onto his boat and watched.
You're coming back with him.
Meanwhile, he'll make sure there's nothing left of the cult that took you after he's obtained the amber.
233 notes · View notes
moonrisecoeur · 3 months
Text
sub!leon x fem-ish!reader, no pronouns mentioned, pegging, lots of dumbification, light objectification, doggy with the girl on top!!
re4r!leon is not really a sexual guy. he masturbates every once and a while, cuz like, he’s still a young guy. doesn’t get off to anything specific, maybe thinking about his partner and sweet and pretty you are. overall, low sex drive mostly because he’s too busy, too stressed, too tired, etc. seriously at this time in his life the only way you’re having sex with ur man is if you initiate.
leon’s a sucker. especially for you. of course he’s gonna say yes, but it doesn’t even cross his mind until you’re feeling up on him, telling him that he seems tense, offering to rub his shoulders for him.
“you don’t gotta go out of your way to do that, it’s o- oh, oh that’s good.” he moans, closing his eyes tightly at your touch. it’s maybe a little too forceful but the tension melts from his body just too easily because of you.
“thank you,” he whispers lowly, obviously having needed that. you smile, pressing a kiss to his cheek as you ponder what you want to do to him now. you tell him that he doesn’t need to thank you, but he grows a little bit curious after a moment of silence. he asks, “what’s on your mind?”
“… i think i want to fuck you stupid,” you breathe, giggling, laughing at your own bluntness. his jaw drops slightly, shocked as well. he clears his throat nervously, and you reach your hand to his neck, placing your fingers on the side and stroking his cheek with your thumb, “only if you’d let me, but… how am i supposed to make that tension really go away if you can still think..?”
“i-i… really? you’re… you’re gonna do that?”
“i don’t want you to feel stressed. i’ll make it so you can’t be,” you say, smirking as you get to watch him giving in in real time, “how does that sound?”
he pauses, then nods, unable to come up with much else, “please…”
minutes later, he’s on his hands and knees, getting fucked doggy style, your cock up pounding into his ass like tomorrow won’t ever come. he’s lost all composure, like he always does during doggy.
he’s not even sure why, but there’s something about this position that just makes him feel even more submissive to you. maybe it’s that it’s a little humiliating? even still, your cock is making him feel so much pleasure that he doesn’t have enough of his mind left to care about something so silly.
“keep letting go of all those thoughts, no more thinking about the horrible, ugly past. nothing you can do, sweetheart,” you whisper in his ear, making him shiver as you hold his waist, fucking him helplessly. he’s pathetic for giving out so easily, but you’re telling him not to think, so he’s not gonna. he’ll be good and obedient and stupid if that’s what you want from him.
he catches drool dripping down his chin, wipes it before you have a chance to notice it drip onto the pillow. you notice, but you don’t mention it as a curtesy. you didn’t want to hurt his ego too bad.
his eyes roll back, his breathing is shaky, and if you tried to ask him something, anything, god he could try as hard as he wanted but he wouldn’t be able to respond. he just moans softly and tears prick at his eyes. he feels stupid.
he just gets so dumb, so easy, so pliant when you’re on top of him, pushing him down, holding him down and kissing his shoulder. you urge him to forget the hellscape that is his life, why wouldn’t he oblige?
he accepts that he’s not supposed to remember anything about the past six years of his life, that all he’s supposed to know how to do is moan and cry and whimper for you. that’s all you ask of him, and it’s so much easier than having to be the government’s puppet. he’s so tired of having to think, of having a job that requires him to be sharp and clever and composed.
he’s done it for so long, and he’s so tired, his body is exhausted, his mind is worn out, and he just needs to be treated like an absolute fucktoy to cope. he doesn’t have to make a single decision when you’re in charge, you just do whatever you please to him until you’re satisfied, and it’s perfect. he doesn’t have any responsibility, not expected to do a single thing. all he’s gotta do is let his mind melt away until he is truly just a sex toy.
170 notes · View notes
Text
Right, so, I've been seeing some persistent misconceptions in fanfiction where a character has ADHD. I'm a man of color with ADHD and I want to clear some things up. This is specifically about how people tend to write Ed Teach, but it can apply to other characters you're writing with ADHD. And I'd love if other people with ADHD, especially other people of color with ADHD, have any additions to tack on!
These things are NOT what ADHD is.
ADHD does not make you "stupid." This whole thing was inspired because I just read a fic where Ed cites his ADHD as evidence he's "dumber" than the other characters (and this was supported by the writing in the story). There is no correlation between ADHD and intelligence, and we know that Ed is a genius!
ADHD does not automatically mean that someone can't finish school or can't succeed in demanding academic fields. I'm working on my PhD. It just means your character needs coping skills.
ADHD does not mean that someone will "hyperfixate" on or suddenly lose interest in relationships, whether romantic or platonic.
ADHD doesn't mean your character struggles with personal hygeine or keeping their home clean. Please stop making me read fics that characterize a man of color as dirty or incapable of keeping his home clean and excusing it because "he has ADHD!"
ADHD doesn't mean that your character will need someone to look after or supervise everything they do. Ed does not need a White man to take care of him or make sure his work gets done.
ADHD doesn't mean a character will be unable to sit still, focus, stay on-task, or sit in silence 100% of the time. We all have different tolerance levels and those can change depending on current circumstances.
Here are some more realistic, interesting ways ADHD can impact successful, smart characters of color, like Ed.
He might feel the need to be hypercompetent, all the time.
He might get frustrated with himself. ADHD can be frustrating! You can be on top of things 99% of the time at work and school, and have people look up to you, and then you'll realize that you've been forgetting to book that doctor's appointment for six months straight now and you'll feel like a failure.
He might overcorrect symptoms. For example, he might have trouble keeping a neat, organized space and know that messes stress him out, so he overcorrects by being a bit of a neat freak and avoiding mess wherever possible so his space never becomes unmanageable.
He might struggle with The Evil Boredom. That's when you feel super understimulated and nothing is enough to help.
He might have trouble sitting still or saying quiet when he's nervous, feeling strong emotions, or in a boring environment or trying to do a boring task (the scene where Ed struggled with being still and quiet while fishing, while also feeling strong emotions of guilt, was super relatable).
I like to write AuDHD characters (with both autism and ADHD), and it can add a fun new dimension! I personally headcanon Ed as AuDHD. When you have both, symptoms can be frustrating because they can feel contradictory (for example, my autism demands I keep a neat, tidy space and I like routines, but my ADHD means I have trouble keeping things tidy to my standards and routines are super boring).
And finally but crucially: it's obviously okay to headcanon a character as ADHD or with any other neurodivergence when you're White. However, it's important to remember that the experience of neurodivergence looks different for people of color. Boys of color with ADHD, for example, are often overdiagnosed with ODD and labelled as "defiant" or "uncooperative." I often avoid telling White friends and coworkers that I'm AuDHD because it tends to make them infantalize me, as if I haven't already proven to them I'm a capable adult. People of color often have to go undiagnosed or without appropriate medications (if needed) and/or are misdiagnosed. If you're writing about a chracter of color with ADHD, I really recommend finding a sensitivity reader.
284 notes · View notes
beom1e · 5 months
Text
jerk! not so bad
your hometown begins to bring back many pleasant memories, and being with yeonjun just feels right. and, as your friendships with the boys individually improves — and you find forgiveness for each of them within yourself — you become less bothered by beomgyu’s incessant teasing and taunting.
pairing choi beomgyu x fem! reader
genre humour, fluff, angst, guitarist! beomgyu
warning empty threats, cursing, jealousy
prev | masterlist | next
Tumblr media
much to your dismay, you had made quite the discovery shortly after waking up from the first night staying with your childhood friends.
for a moment, you’d felt like the main character in a cheesy romantic comedy. the birds were chirping, the sun was shining down onto your bed and you stretched out in that stereotypical movie way. but minutes into waking up — when you had slipped on your house slippers and opened up your bedroom door — the first sight of your day was beomgyu.
you’d groaned and rolled your eyes and huffed all the way down the stairs, stomping and making an entrance into the kitchen. and of course, beomgyu had made a comment about how he thought your pyjamas were ridiculous and childish.
‘why didn’t you tell me i was being stationed next to this jerk for the next month?’ you continued your tantrum.
‘you know, i really don’t care for that term,’ beomgyu rolled his eyes, stood beside you now. to the rest of the boys, you looked like two pathetic children just unable to get along. ‘what if i just non-stop called you a—?’
‘a what!?’ you snapped at him.
‘y/n, calm down,’ soobin rolled his eyes at the two of you. ‘it’s not like you’re sharing a room with him.’
that ideal hardly lasted the next ten minutes.
your hope to have a peaceful, morning bubble bath quickly dissipated as soon as you stepped into what you thought was your own bathroom. there was a second door in your room and you opened it up to see your promised bathroom, but there just happened to be somebody in it. and of course, that person just so happened to be beomgyu.
‘you have got to be kidding me,’ beomgyu turned his head back at the sound of your voice, rolling his eyes before turning back to face the mirror. ‘soobin is so dead.’
‘how do you think i feel?’ he spoke with toothpaste still in his mouth. ‘my room is a guest bedroom, that’s why there’s an adjoining bathroom. i mean, i’m a vital part of the band, and yet they shut me away in this corner with our guest.’
‘do you ever shut up?’ you smiled mockingly. ‘and at least spit before you continue being a complete ass.’
life following your discovery was one big competition between you and beomgyu, over who could bug the other more. his favourite trick was to spend an ungodly amount of time in the bathroom every morning, claiming he had to perfect his hair or he ‘missed a spot’ shaving. many times, you just shoved him out of the way and coped with having to share your space. he crossed the line, however, when he walked in on you showering. and not because it was an idiotic, rude, invasive thing to do, but because of the way he reacted.
‘my eyes!’ he’d helplessly called out, and forced his face into his hands before backing his way out of the room.
not that he had seen anything, because of the opaque shower curtain, but it still irked you. no apology whatsoever, and he was downright rude about your appearance. he couldn’t understand why you weren’t up for much back-and-forth taunting that day.
a week in, and things were only getting messier.
‘y/n!’ he screamed from within the bathroom. and so you entered, hiding the smile on your face. ‘do you seriously need every surface in this bathroom to be covered in your junk?’
‘hey, i saved some space for you,’ you shrugged, watching him from your position leaned against the doorframe. when his expression twisted with annoyance, you smirked and spun out of the room. ‘if you’re lost, just check under the sink!’
he wasn’t going to let that slide. you’d relocated all of his things into a small basket that sat under the sink, giving him no sink surface space and not even a single shelf inside of the shower. you were just making life difficult for him. in turn, he would do the same to you as payback.
after a very long day, you were just hoping for a peaceful night. you’d taken a trip to the arcade with taehyun and kai, losing game after game to taehyun and trying to hold kai back whenever he caught sight of a claw machine. to say you were tired would be an understatement.
you sighed with contentment, falling back into the comfort of the large bed. you’d been dying to read a particular book since the start of your final semester, but held off in favour of your degree. you flipped to the first page, an excited smile spreading across your face as you did so.
as if on cue, beomgyu began to play the electric guitar… connected to his largest, loudest speaker. to make things worse, he just so happened to be playing ‘lovesong’. approximately ten seconds later, you were pounding your fist against the wood of his door.
‘for your sake, beomgyu, i really hope you have health insurance!’ you yelled, but he didn’t answer. taking matters into your own hands, you pushed down on the handle and stepped into his room without permission.
it was very beomgyu. dark blue walls and grey bedsheets, minimalistic decor, his blinds permanently closed, a computer set-up across his desk and his many guitars hung up on the other side of the bathroom wall.
‘may i help you?’ the sound cut off in a horrible, scratchy tone as his hand pressed carelessly against the strings.
‘could you keep it down?’ you tried to be reasonable. ‘i’ve just sat down to read my book.’
‘i have to practice, otherwise i’ll forget how to play guitar and lose my place in the band,’ he sighed mockingly.
‘and that would be a bad thing because…?’ you retaliated.
he paused to look you up and down before smiling to himself. you crossed your arms over your chest out of insecurity and tried not to feel awkward.
‘cute pyjamas,’ he spoke, before repositioning his fingers into the position of e minor.
you narrowed your eyes with annoyance as he began to play once again, then you slammed his bedroom door close behind yourself with intention. the sounds emitted from your throat were close to growls the whole five steps it took you to get back to your own room. you closed your own door, headed over to your cd player and pressed play. with the speakers on maximum volume, you snuggled back into the space between your pillows and sighed contentedly.
of course, it wouldn’t be easy to read your book anymore, but the sacrifice was worth it for getting under beomgyu’s skin.
however, he had the upper hand. your measly cd player’s speakers were no match for his professional grade speakers. the volume went up, and so did your aggravation. you grabbed your pillow and placed it over your head, before pulling it down as hard as you could and screaming into the material.
Tumblr media
bliss. the warm sun, a shopping bag on your arm, yeonjun at your side, a cool breeze, absolutely no sight of beomgyu.
‘i really need to get more picks,’ yeonjun claimed sheepishly, hands in his pockets as he slowly turned towards you. you smiled and shrugged, making a move to cross the street. ‘thank you, y/n, i’ll never forget this.’
‘forget what?’ you laughed. ‘me allowing you to go into the music store? i love it there!’
‘your selflessness,’ he explained. ‘i promised to take you out shopping to make up for beomgyu’s tendency to be an asshole, yet here i am begging you to stop by this place.’
‘yeonjun, please,’ you rolled your eyes, pushing open the door. ‘no need for your dramatics.’
immediately, your eyes landed on the new cashier. last time you’d been here — albeit two years ago — there was a sweet old man who had been a rockstar in his twenties. the whole place had changed, with a much more modern and less authentic look, and all of the employees were people your own age. you’d clocked the cashier because she was truly beautiful, and totally the kind of girl yeonjun would like.
‘the picks are over at the register,’ he started. ‘i’ll just be a minute. feel free to keep looking around, though.’
you kissed your teeth with annoyance and turned towards the wall of guitars. she seemed nice enough, with the way she smiled at every customer and wished everyone leaving a good day. in an attempt to distract yourself, you eyed each of the guitars on display and tried to imagine yourself playing them. your own guitar was back at your parents’ house, in a box labelled ‘extra stuff’. that’s all it really was now, a decoration and a constant reminder of what once was.
you sighed and took a step around the corner, almost crashing into somebody. beomgyu grabbed you by your shoulders to steady you before you were able to collide with him.
‘woah there,’ he laughed. ‘almost fell for me.’
‘shut up,’ you muttered, feeling defeated. ‘not in the mood.’
‘why’s that?’ he pressed, but caught sight of you looking back at yeonjun flirting with the cashier. ‘oh, i see.’
‘see what?’ you frowned. ‘i’m just tired.’
‘you’re in love with yeonjun,’ he stated. ‘but he isn’t interested.’
‘i’m not in love with yeonjun,’ you scoffed. ‘anymore.’
‘your expression says otherwise,’ he teased.
‘my expression?’ you raised a brow. ‘ugh, why am i even talking to you? i need to get out of here.’
you spun around and began walking towards the exit.
‘deny it all you want,’ beomgyu called out. ‘but it’s true.’
you stuck your middle finger up in the air behind you on the way out. yeonjun gave the cashier an apologetic smile before he grabbed his paper bag of picks and followed you. he shot a glare in the younger boy’s direction, receiving a confused and annoyed ‘what!?’ in return.
‘hey, sorry,’ yeonjun spoke as the door closed. ‘i didn’t know he was going to be in there.’
‘nothing happened, ‘jun,’ you sighed. ‘let’s go home.’
‘but we didn’t even get lunch yet,’ he took a step closer, wrapping an arm around you to pull you flush against his chest. ‘i thought you were just dying to eat the food we loved so much as kids.’
‘it’s alright,’ you huffed. yeonjun began to walk with his arm still around your shoulder, giving you that false sense of hope once again. ‘i can stomach your cooking one more time.’
Tumblr media
‘i won!’ you jumped up from your spot on the couch, celebrating by bouncing and cheering. ‘and you all suck!’
‘i hate playing with y/n,’ soobin pouted.
‘oh, scooby,’ you fell into seat beside him and placed your hand atop his head before ruffling his hair. ‘maybe when you grow up you’ll be just as good as i am.’
‘i’m older than you,’ he narrowed his eyes.
‘okay, food time!’ yeonjun got up from the couch and disappeared from the lounge area.
‘i’ve missed you,’ you smiled, turning your head to face soobin. ‘and kai and taehyun, wherever they are.’
‘taehyun’s probably in the studio and kai… probably upstairs watching tv,’ he laughed shortly. ‘we’ve missed you too, y/n. i felt really bad about the fact that we’d kept all this from you, but it was too much to explain through a text or a call.’
‘i know, i get it, soob,’ you shrugged, folding your arms across your chest. ‘but i’m happy for you all. i mean, look at the size of the tv we just played mario kart on.’
‘what’s going on in here?’ yeonjun walked back in with two bags full of takeout. the way you were looking at soobin with that smile on your face and the closeness of your faces made his heart feel a little… sad.
you were always close with soobin. never as close as you were with yeonjun, but close enough. you spent a lot of time one-on-one and back when you used to visit them regularly, it was soobin who you were coming to hang out with. yeonjun had always suspected that something was going on between the two of you, because of how comfortable you were around him. he would always be the one carrying you on his back when your legs got tired, or the one to trade food whenever you weren’t feeling your order anymore, or the one you sat beside during movie night. he hated to feel jealous of soobin, but he couldn’t exactly help it.
it was only soobin, despite your closeness with the others. with kai, you’d always held hands walking around and he was always your partner when it came to team games. taehyun was the one you always went to for a heart-to-heart, and your favourite person to go to the studio with. but to yeonjun, it was just innocent friendship. maybe it was the fact that soobin was the leader of the band, or that he was taller and gentler than he would ever be.
‘just catching up on two years of y/n drought,’ soobin exclaimed, pulling you into his side.
yeonjun pursed his lips in response and nodded to himself, placing the two bags down onto the table. you excitedly moved forward on the couch, out from under soobin’s arm. and then the door opened, and in stepped beomgyu who had just gotten home from spending the whole day out with his own friends. you grabbed a slice of the pizza and rolled your eyes before falling back into the couch.
‘movie night?’ he held up his own two bags, filled with tempting snacks.
‘it’s up to y/n,’ soobin spoke. ‘she was already spending the day alone with us.’
‘come on, it’ll be fun,’ beomgyu was looking at you now, a smile on his lips. ‘we haven’t done anything as the six of us.’
‘sure,’ you shrugged.
‘really?’ yeonjun almost gasped. ‘you’re agreeing to spending hours in a room with beomgyu?’
‘hey, can you not?’ beomgyu groaned. ‘it’s not like i’m the antichrist.’
minutes later, you sat yourself in between taehyun and kai with the popcorn bowl in your lap. an array of movies were selected by each of you individually, some of them only lasting a few minutes before everyone voted against watching the rest. you felt good to be in a room with your favourite people once again, comfortable and just enjoying yourselves. you’d laugh wholeheartedly at kai’s stupid jokes and taehyun’s brutal critiques of the movies, and just feel at peace.
as time went on, positions changed. yeonjun sat on the floor between your legs and asked you to play with his hair, and then he took up the couch when he fell asleep. you laid across the floor with your elbows propped up on a pillow beside soobin until he claimed he was going to bed. eventually, everybody had left except for yourself and beomgyu. he sighed audibly and dropped a pillow at your side, then mirroring your exact position and turning to look at you.
‘thank you, beomgyu,’ you smiled. ‘i enjoyed tonight.’
‘why? because i was here?’ he teased.
‘no, idiot,’ you rolled your eyes and looked back at the tv. ‘i’ve missed my friends so much. the friends i made at school just… weren’t the same. they don’t know me like the guys do.’
‘yeah…’ beomgyu trailed off. ‘must be nice.’
‘what’s up with you?’ you snapped your head back around to look at him upon hearing his depressing tone.
‘they talk about you a lot,’ he tilted his head to the side to rest his head on one hand instead. ‘how you were just the greatest thing on earth, and how much they missed you. it didn’t matter how good i was at playing guitar, i knew i would never be able to take your place. and… i don’t really have any childhood friends of my own anymore.’
‘what about the friends you saw today?’ you pressed, enjoying this other side of beomgyu — the side where he wasn’t a complete jackass who just had to get a word in.
‘college,’ he explained shortly. ‘i graduated last year.’
‘i wasn’t expecting that,’ you thought out loud.
‘why not?’ he raised his eyebrows.
‘i don’t know…’ you laughed shortly before quickly covering your mouth. ‘but i’m not trying to call you stupid.’
‘really feels that way, y/n,’ you liked hearing your name in his softer tone. ‘it all feels pointless now that i’m here anyway.’
‘well, that gives me hope,’ you panicked.
‘i’m sure you’ll excel at whatever you do, y/n,’ he smiled. ‘yeonjun’s told me a countless amount of times just how beautiful your voice is, and how huge your brain is.’
‘he’s my best friend,’ you rolled your eyes. ‘he has to say that kind of stuff.’
‘sounded pretty convincing to me,’ he shrugged. ‘and i’m pretty sure your little crush isn’t as one-sided as you think.’
‘i don’t have a crush on yeonjun,’ you huffed.
‘dinner dates?’ he teased. ‘like fancy dinner dates. he takes you out shopping, on his card. you sat and played with his hair for an hour and then he fell asleep curled up beside you.’
‘beomgyu, please,’ you groaned. ‘we’ve always been like this.’
‘and you’ve never thought to ask him out?’ he looked serious about this, and he was convincing you that yeonjun really did have feelings for you.
‘i’m going to bed,’ you pushed yourself up and stretched out. ‘and no more talk about this… ever.’
‘yes, sarge,’ he joked. ‘goodnight, y/n.’
‘goodnight, beomgyu,’ you smiled.
light flooded into the dark room as you pushed the door open, but disappeared in an instant as the door closed. beomgyu sighed, clutched the cushion in his arms and pressed his face into it. the silence consumed him and sent his mind running, and for once, he wasn’t thinking about you.
Tumblr media
‘good morning!’ you called as you came speeding down the stairs and into the open-plan kitchen. ‘what’s for breakfast?’
beomgyu stared blankly at you as you stood on the opposite side of the counter to him. he was mid-pour making his usual cereal and apple juice, when your excitement came to him like a shock to his system. taehyun came to your side and placed a stack of pancakes in front of you, making you grin and give him a grateful hug.
‘how do i look?’ yeonjun entered the kitchen, fully dressed and looking slightly crazed as if he hadn’t slept at all.
‘perfect, ‘jjuni,’ beomgyu teased. ‘i’d date you.’
‘great,’ he breathed out. ‘i’ve gotta go, i’ll see you all later.’
‘weird,’ kai observed, his comment coming from across the room. ‘what d’you think that was about?’
‘yeah, strange,’ you shrugged, and loosened your hold on taehyun.
but nothing was going to get in your way today.
you took your time eating your breakfast before heading upstairs to wash your face and start your skincare routine. beomgyu pounded on the locked door as you stood posing in the mirror and feeling good about yourself, too immersed to even notice until he came in through your door. you rolled your eyes and went back into your room, to then try on an array of outfits until you were satisfied. it felt like music was playing behind you as you went about your day, like the intro of a feel-good romantic comedy. the smile on your face was wide as you skipped through the hallway, past a confused beomgyu and down the stairs until you found yourself in the living room.
‘hey, taehyun,’ you sat down beside him. ‘do you wanna go out for ice cream?’
‘i do!’ kai raised his hand in the air. ‘i’ll go.’
‘okay, we’ll all go,’ you grinned.
to go out for ice cream with your childhood friends in the middle of summer was both refreshing and painfully nostalgic. it reminded you of a simpler time, when the five of you were just a bunch of high school kids who played instruments for fun and had unreachable dreams. well, said unreachable dreams had only became unreachable for you. the boys were now happily living the life they had always dreamed of, and while you were happy to have sent yourself off to college, it was hard to watch from the outside.
‘do you still play?’ taehyun spoke, before placing a spoonful of soft serve into his mouth.
‘i haven’t in a long time,’ you stared down at your tub of ice cream. ‘i fell out of love with guitar after i left, because playing alone didn’t compare to playing with all of you.’
‘you could still play with us,’ kai suggested. ‘i’m sure beomgyu has a spare guitar for you.’
‘you think beomgyu will give up a guitar for me?’ you almost snorted. ‘he hates me.’
‘he doesn’t hate you,’ taehyun stated blankly. ‘if you just give him a chance, you’ll see that he’s actually not so bad.’
‘okay, last time i checked, we came here to spend the day together,’ you rolled your eyes. ‘i’m not here to discuss beomgyu and his guitars.’
‘you were the one to first mention your silly little feud,’ kai defended, making you glare at him.
‘moving on,’ you sighed. ‘i saw this new store that has these super cute keychains and charms.’
‘yeah, i think i know it,’ taehyun smiled. ‘it’ll be nice for you to have something from home for when you go back.’
‘i thought so too,’ you smiled, although a little more sadly than taehyun had. the thought of leaving them behind once again just didn’t feel right. ‘let’s get going.’
the three of you walked aimlessly under the heat. taehyun and kai had no idea where this place was and you certainly couldn’t remember, yet you refused to pull out google maps. but after twenty minutes of walking and talking, you rounded a corner and there stood the building in all its glory.
‘i told you, fate will lead the way,’ you grinned.
inside, the three of you separated to different corners with different interests. you spent a long time browsing statement earrings before a fox pin across the room caught your eye. you made a beeline for it and picked it up, admiring the dainty item with only one person in mind.
‘just this please,’ you placed the pin down in front of the cashier with a polite smile. ‘do you have a loyalty card?’
‘yes, we do,’ the cashier smiled as they wrapped your pin up in dark brown tissue paper. ‘would you like one today?’
‘uhm,’ you thought for a second about how often you’d realistically come back. ‘maybe next time, if that’s okay.’
‘no problem,’ they placed the pin into a tiny bag for you and took your cash before wishing you a good day.
you walked up to kai and put your head on his shoulder, causing him to jump and almost bump into a display. you burst out laughing at his reaction but apologised quickly.
‘are you both ready to go?’ taehyun interrupted.
‘yeah,’ you smiled.
as you turned towards the exit, the bell above the door rang and yeonjun stepped inside, with the girl from the music store holding onto his arm. your expression dropped as you watched them pass you without even noticing your presence. taehyun acted quickly when he linked his arm with yours and forced you towards the door.
‘let’s get some actual lunch,’ he suggested, kai nodding from the side. ‘we’ll go to your favourite place.’
‘sure,’ you shrugged.
you tried not to get down and ruin the mood as you walked towards the cafe. after all, the relationship between you and yeonjun was purely platonic. he never tried to close the gap and pursue you, and it wasn’t like you’d ever expressed your feelings for him to anyone either. of course, everyone else knew about your feelings for him, but he didn’t. and you wanted it to stay that way, so that he could pursue the girl from the music store guilt-free.
‘grab a table, i’ll order,’ taehyun parted from you and kai, leaving you to follow kai to a booth beside a window.
you’d eaten at the restaurant a countless amount of times, so taehyun had yours and everyone else’s order memorised. even when you would ask for a menu and spend a good ten minutes checking it out, your order always came out the same. it had been the sole hangout place for your group as kids, and the staff knew you all by name. you’d missed the opportunity to visit earlier when yeonjun had first exposed the liking he had taken to the girl in the music store.
‘hey, kai,’ beomgyu spoke, sliding into the empty seat beside you. ‘y/n.’
‘beomgyu,’ you challenged, with your arms folded and head tilted with annoyance. ‘what are you doing here?’
‘plotting a crime,’ he deadpanned. ‘obviously grabbing lunch, y/n. i see your degree didn’t do much for your common sense.’
‘and i see clown school hasn’t updated their humour class in centuries,’ you rolled your eyes. ‘leave, please.’
it was quite shocking to see the comparison between beomgyu right now and beomgyu the previous day. what happened to the sweeter, more serious version that you’d met the night before? how did he somehow bounce back to the world-class asshole he typically was in a matter of hours?
‘i was here first,’ he leaned back and turned his head towards his own group of friends. ‘besides, this is my spot.’
‘like hell it is,’ you laughed shortly. ‘i’ve been coming here with yeonjun since we were kids.’
‘this is my hometown too, y/n,’ beomgyu tilted his head to the side with a smirk. ‘i used to come here with my brother all the time when we were kids.’
‘fine,’ you grabbed your bag and slammed it onto the table. ‘can you at least scoot over so i can leave?’
he did as instructed, and you slid out of the booth without another word. kai and taehyun shot beomgyu a glare, about to call you back to the table when the door opened and they saw yeonjun approaching you.
‘y/n, hey,’ yeonjun reached out for you with concern but you backed away, huffing in anger.
‘not right now, ‘jun,’ you lowered your eyes, catching sight of the fox pin sitting against the left of his chest. ‘where did you get that pin?’
‘the girl from the music store,’ he broke out into a smile. ‘she saw it and said it reminded her of me, so she got it for me and— where are you going?’
the door slammed behind you as you rushed outside, holding in a deep breath that was certain to release as a sob. the four boys watched you walk in the direction of the house from behind the windows, confusion in the air. you picked up the pace until you were certain you were out of their sight. with your back against the exterior wall of a building, tucked between an alleyway, you let the first tear fall.
Tumblr media
the pin felt heavy in your hands. you played with it between your fingers and traced your thumb over the silver outline.
leaning towards your bedside table, you pulled open the first drawer and threw it in without a second thought. your knees pulled up towards your chest almost automatically as you cried and rested your head against your wrapped arms. the sobs reached beomgyu’s ears, who stood only inches away from your bedroom door. he sighed and knocked softly, but heard no response on your end.
he pushed down on the handle and opened the door, making you snap your head up. you groaned and wiped at your tears.
‘what do you want?’ you snapped.
‘are you okay?’ he frowned.
‘peachy,’ you scoffed. ‘get out.’
‘y/n—’ he sighed.
‘please,’ your voice cracked.
beomgyu pursed his lips and swallowed thickly. but he did as you requested and pulled the door closed behind himself. it softly clicked closed as he spun around to face soobin.
‘what are you doing?’ soobin asked angrily. ‘she needs someone right now!’
‘why me?’ beomgyu narrowed his eyes.
‘you were the one that upset her,’ soobin stated.
‘no,’ beomgyu shook his head. ‘it’s more complicated than that.’
‘whatever,’ soobin pushed past the younger boy. ‘i’m going in.’
Tumblr media
prev | masterlist | next
taglist @fairyofshampgyu @woncheecks @shycreationdreamland @wonioml @baekberrie @strawbrinkofdeath @bangchansbae @wccycc @hyehae @lixpixstix @hyewka @notevenheretbh1 @whippedforbeomgyu @flowerbe0m @boba-beom @gravytr4in @lomlyeonjun @lexawoah13 @st4rcig4r @gyulight @isascat @heartfromsoob @jdd1213 @chocorenchin @i9chae @garbageandhot
190 notes · View notes
jays-therapist · 3 months
Text
So much of who Yukio is stems from his self-hatred.
He wants to be an exorcist because he hates how weak he is. A lot of the contempt he holds for his brother derives from a desire to be like Rin, and not like himself. The way he remembers his own childhood is distorted by his self-hatred, as he struggles to focus on memories where he isn't inadequate.
Tumblr media
I think the reason he hates who he was as a child is because he’s associated all of his worst traits to "Pre-Exorcist Training" Yukio, where he felt truly helpless and unable to do anything about his fear. Becoming an exorcist kind of gave him a sense of power? By learning about what he’s afraid of and how to deal with it, he now has control. At least, I think that was the idea behind it. What he doesn’t understand (and what Shirou probably didn’t consider when he gave his baby a gun) is that he’s not really overcoming his fear of demons. He’s just compensating for it, and clinging tight to any source of control he can get. Deep down, the fear remains; he still feels helpless, with a whole bunch of terrible coping mechanisms as a bonus.
(I also think this is one of the reasons he has such violent reactions to losing control, specifically towards his own body, like when he stabbed his arm to prevent himself from panicking in the Kyoto Arc.)
And he gets worse, because as he reasses the goals he had when he was a child (partly due to Toudou’s influence), he can only focus on all the ways they are selfish. A seven year old becoming an exorcist because he wants to be stronger only reinforces Yukio’s self-hatred, because it’s a self-oriented goal. Rin wants to be an exorcist so no one has to die for him like Shirou did. Shiemi wants to be an exorcist so she can protect others the way they’ve protected her. Bon wants revenge for the Blue Night and how it affected his family, and on and on and on. Yukio is surrounded by people who have experienced incredible pain, but focus on those around them. More and more, Yukio is seeing himself as the outlier, whose selfishness only serves to build upon itself. As he says, “I’m so obsessed with myself I can’t see anyone else!”
Tumblr media
And like, that’s why I think the line “I’m strong because I had you!” holds so much weight, for both Rin and Yukio. For Yukio, it’s a realization that he loves his brother more than he hates himself, you know? He didn’t just want to be strong so he could surpass his brother. He wanted to be strong for his brother, and was inspired by him. It was that love that pushed him forward, and it’s that love that allows him to heal, a little bit.
This is best shown in the flashback he has later in Chapter 130 when they’re getting ready to square up with Satan. Earlier, I said that Yukio’s memories are distorted by self-hatred. Here, in this scene, we see a memory free of that bias, where Yukio, once shaking in fear, takes Rin’s hand. Yukio is brave, and able to overcome his fears with support, it just took him awhile to realize this.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Therefore, even though so much of Yukio is built upon hatred, he’s slowly recognizing just how much he loves and has loved.
190 notes · View notes