In My Heart is a Memory (And There You'll Always Be) Part One
So! Awhile back now I received an anonymous prompt - which I can't post all of (yet) since it will spoil this new WIP which has gotten away from me in terms of length (as always). Needless to say we begin with Steddie childhood friends AU and continue from there!
Thank you to the nonny who sent me this beautiful prompt, I can't wait to take you on this journey!
Steve never thought it would end this way.
He tries desperately again to loosen the fishing line that has wrapped itself around his foot, trapping him in the frigid grey water. Steve paddles up again to take a deeper breath only to find that he's unable to fully breach the surface enough to breathe.
He gulps down a mixture of water and air, sputtering as it hits his lungs and chokes his throat. He realises, deliriously, that he might actually die here, alone in the woods at twelve years old.
This is why his mother had forbidden him from swimming in the lake, especially by himself; she had told him a million times not to go down there alone.
Steve slips under again, watching as the last few bubbles of air fly towards the surface above him, his vision begins to tunnel as he belatedly wishes he had thought to tell someone that he was going to lovers lake that afternoon.
Two strong hands suddenly appear on both sides of him, grasping Steve by the arms, hauling him out of the water.
"Shit, he's caught on something, Ed, hand me my knife, hurry," a gruff voice says as Steve is dragged into a boat, he sputters and coughs, gasping for air as his lungs burn and seize.
"Is he okay?" another younger voice says anxiously.
Steve opens his eyes just enough to find a wide pair of brown eyes staring back at him, a boy with a mop of curly hair sits beside Steve, he chews his lip nervously as the older man works on cutting away the tangle of old fishing line that had caught Steve earlier.
"This is why we always take our lines with us instead of leavin' em in the lake," the older man huffs as he severs the last knot holding Steve's leg, "he should be okay, you're lucky we were here kid".
All Steve can do is nod, his chest and throat still sore from his near drowning.
The other boy, Ed, inches closer but doesn't touch him, he looks around the boat with raised hands as though looking for some way to help.
"I think we're done fishing for today," the old man huffs, if he's anxious his voice doesn't show it, but Steve can see the worry in his dark eyes.
"Give him your coat Ed, let's bring our catch home to warm up".
The words seem to jumpstart the other boy as he hurriedly shrugs off his jean jacket and draps it clumsily over Steve's shoulders.
"You got a name kid?" the man asks gently before his expression finally shifts to one of panic, "aw hell, we gotta warm you up, you ain't even shivering".
"His lips are blue," Ed blurts out, his brow pinched with worry, "Wayne--"
"I see it, sit with him would ya, I'll get the engine going again," Wayne grunts out as he switches places with Eddie. The boat tips slightly as they move making Steve hiss as cold water tips over the side and onto his legs.
"My name's Eddie," the teen yells over the roar of the engine motor as it jumps to life; he sits down on the bench across from him, "what's your name?"
"S-Steve," he manages to get out between chattering teeth, his body finally beginning to shake in an attempt to warm itself back up.
"Don't worry," Eddie murmurs sagely, "we'll take care of you, right Uncle Wayne?"
Wayne nods with a tight smile as he begins to steer the boat back to shore.
"I don't need the hospital," Steve grumbles from the back seat of the pickup truck, eliciting an exaggerated eye roll from Wayne in the rearview mirror.
Heat blasts from the vents as soon as they pull away from the dirt side road by the docks and Steve is finally starting to warm up. Wayne had helped him step his shaking limbs into his discarded clothing they found on docks, but his damp swim shorts had soaked through his jeans, leaving a small persistent shiver running through him.
"We ain't leaving it to chance kid," Wayne grouses at him, "you inhaled a lot of lake water back there and I've spent enough time in a boat to know you need to be checked out by a professional".
Steve pouts in the back seat next to Eddie who looks between Steve and his uncle with a sharp furrow between his brow.
"Couldn't we take him to our place Wayne, we can look after him there," Eddie says with a toothy grin, he winks at Steve before catching Wayne's unimpressed glare in the rearview mirror.
"No, hospital first," he grumbles but the words are without heat and if the fond smile is anything to go by, Wayne seems more exasperated than angry.
Which is good.
Steve can't begin to picture how angry his own dad will be when he gets home.
Maybe enough for the belt again.
He shivers again and feels a bony shoulder connect lightly with his own; Steve looks up to find Eddie staring again, this time with a shy smile.
"You good," Eddie asks, a hint of nervousness in his voice, "sorry 'bout him".
He holds up one hand to block Wayne's vision of Eddie's face and points towards his uncle into the palm of his hand, "the old man’s stubborn sometimes".
The absurdity startles a wild giggle out of Steve that Eddie soon matches.
Wayne keeps driving, his eyes travelling between the road and the rearview mirror at the two boys giggling in the backseat. Wayne shakes his head and smiles slightly as they pull onto Main Street.
"Are you at Hawkins Middle? I don't know if I've seen you there before," Eddie asks abruptly, interrupting the laughter.
"I'm going to the highschool next year which is kind of cool," Eddie continues, not waiting for Steve to answer which is almost a relief given the strange exhaustion settling in Steve’s bones the longer they sit there.
"I heard from one of the other older kids at the tra--the park that there are a ton of clubs to join and even one for Dungeons and Dragons --you heard of it?"
Steve shakes his head, "is that like a board game or something?"
Eddie barks out a laugh and launches into an explanation, the words tumbling out at a mile a minute to the point that Steve isn't sure what he's even talking about anymore.
"And you use your character traits to help decide what to do, then the roll you get from your dice determines if you are successful or not!"
Steve frowns slightly, it doesn't sound like any board games he's ever heard of but it has dice, what else could it be?
"It's hard to explain without like showing you the books," Eddie admits, picking at a stray thread from the hole in his jeans, "I'll show you later at school, maybe?"
Steve can count on one hand the number of times he's actually been invited to hang out or play with another kid over the years that wasn't orchestrated by his mother.
He's not much for board games, but if that's what Eddie's inviting him to play, who is Steve to say no?
"Do you get to fight Dragons? Like a knight?" Steve asks quietly, his throat still sore from earlier. He laughs when Eddie nods so excitedly his whole body practically vibrates before jumping into a new explanation of the different characters people could play.
Steve spends the whole time listening with a wide grin on his face. He doesn't think he's ever met someone who talks so much, but Eddie has so much to say and he wants to tell Steve of all people.
He's too tired to add anything himself, the adrenalin from earlier seems to flow out of him, sinking into the back seat.
"Do you have Newson for English?" Eddie asks as they enter the hospital and Wayne takes them to the counter, he speaks with the nurse at the Emergency Room intake desk in a hushed voice, letting Steve and Eddie continue their conversation.
Steve shakes his head, feeling suddenly warm, much too warm and tired.
"Maybe we have the same lunch period, I want to show you the players handbook on Monday," Eddie practically vibrates beside him with excitement, "you can sit at my table and…Steve?"
Eddie suddenly sounds so far away, Steve struggles to stay upright and sways heavily into the other boy's side.
"Steve?!"
There's a commotion around him, people yelling and touching him suddenly, but he doesn't want that. He's so warm, it's hard to think, his vision begins to tunnel again.
The last thing he sees as a pair of gentle hands lay him down is Eddie worried brown eyes staring into his own as his world goes dark.
***
The first thing Steve realises when he wakes up, is that he's in a hospital bed.
The second is that he's alone.
The steady beat of the heart rate monitor almost lulls him back to sleep but he fights to stay awake.
Steve peers around the room, spotting his mothers coat and purse on the chair in the corner.
Shit.
This is what he was hoping to avoid, his parents finding out he deliberately disobeyed their rules and landed himself in the hospital.
Steve tries to sit up but the movement pulls at the strange tubing around his face and the IV in his arm. He hisses at the tug of the needle and flops back down against the flat pillow behind his head.
The heart rate monitor ticks up slightly at the movement, seemingly calling out to the nurses at the station outside.
As if on cue, a nurse steps into the room, followed by his mother.
Diane Harrington always looked put together. Pearls, heels, never a hair out of place.
Today however, Diane's pale wane face stares at Steve in stony silence. No makeup, her hair sits flat against her head. A fine tremor runs over her clenched hands but she smooths down the front of her shirt to hide it.
"Looks like someone's awake," the nurse says with a kind smile.
She picks up the chart at the edge of the bed as his mother walks around to the chair that has been pulled up closest to Steve's side. She doesn't sit.
The nurse is around his mom’s age, maybe a little older if the laugh lines around her mouth are any indication. Her blond hair is streaked with grey as well and pinned back to let the small white hat sit properly on top. Her light brown eyes trace over the page of his chart and a slight crease begins to form between them as she frowns slightly.
"What is it?" Diane says, the words come out smoothly; Steve tries to make eye contact with her, to see just how mad she is about this, how mad his dad will be when they get home, but she ignores his gaze.
"The doctor will be in shortly, he'll explain," she says apologetically before placing the chart back down at the edge of the bed.
"Steven," the nurse says softly as she walks towards him, on the side opposite his mother, "my name is Claudia, and myself and Doctor Sattler will be taking care of you today".
Steve nods, suddenly shy as Claudia reaches into the pocket of her white apron and shows Steve a long black tube with a shiny metal circle at one end, the other is split down the middle into two angled sections at the other end.
"Steven, this is a Stethoscope, I'm going to use it to listen to your heart and your lungs, so I'm going to need you to sit up, can you do that for me?"
He nods and begins to shift, slowly this time to avoid jostling the IV this time.
"Steven," Diane says sharply from her place beside the bed, she still isn't looking at him, "you need to answer when you're asked a question."
"Sorry," he mumbles, abashed at his mother's words.
Claudia's frown returns as her eyes dart between Steve and Diane, but she remains silent and simply places the stethoscope into her ears.
"This will be a little cold," Claudia warns as she lifts up his shirt to place the metal against his back, "okay, you're going to give me a big deep breath," she instructs softly, giving him a smile.
Steve breathes in, it's not painful, but there's an awful pressure in his chest that makes him wince, the strange whistling sound his breath makes also doesn't help.
Claudia must notice because she tuts and tells him she just needs a few more breaths from him.
She moves the metal from his back to his chest and asks him to take two more deep breaths for her, on the last one his chest spasms and his throat constricts just enough to make him begin to cough horribly.
Steve doubles over, uncaring this time of the pull on the IV, he can't seem to catch his breath this time.
Steve registers his mother and Claudia trying to speak to him and a gentle hand on his back rubbing in a soothing circle but all Steve can think is, I can't breathe, as he coughs up a glob of frothy pink liquid into the sheets covering his legs.
The steady beep of the heart rate monitor begins to increase to a constant frantic pulse, I can’t breathe, he wants to scream but his throat constricts around the words, it feels as though an elephant has sat itself in the middle of his chest as he registers something being pressed to his mouth and nose.
"Try to take a deep breath, one mississippi, two mississippi, that's it sweetheart," Claudia pats his back gently and keeps a steady hold of the mask over his face.
The pressure in his chest slowly begins to relent as he follows Claudia’s direction, one mississippi, two mississippi, in and out. The constant puff of air around his nose and mouth seems to finally be helping.
"You're going to give us even more grey hair before we discharge you huh kiddo," a new voice rumbles from the door.
Steve looks up wearily at a man in a white coat with horn rimmed glasses staring down at him. There is a kind smile on his face, much like the one Wayne had when he helped Steve exit their truck earlier that day.
Was it still Saturday? Steve looks around again for the window, he could have sworn it was still light out.
"What are you giving him?" Diane whispers above Steve, she hazards a brief glance at him before looking back at the doctor who lifts a syringe to pump something into the IV tubing, but Steve isn’t paying attention, he’s trying to find the clock he had seen earlier on the far wall.
"Just something to help him breathe a little easier, that's all," the man says gently as he takes Steve's chart from the end of the bed where Claudia had left it.
"BP is a little low," Claudia murmurs, she lets go of the mask and lays Steve back down onto the bed, smoothing his hair back lightly as she leaves his bedside.
"Steven, my name is Dr. Sattler, I heard you had an interesting morning today?"
Dr. Sattler gives Steve and his mother a warm smile as he places the chart back down on the bed, he eyes the machines at the bedside for a moment before taking Steve’s wrist gently in his hand and lifting the face of his watch up to meet his eyes.
He nods and lays Steve’s hand back down onto the bed, above the covers.
Suddenly a bright light is shining into Steve's eyes, he winces slightly as it moves quickly, “Steven, can you tell me if you hit your head at all when you were in the lake today?”
Steve tries to think back to the lake. He remembers getting his foot caught in the discarded fishing line, the feeling of water running down the back of his throat, filling his nose; the way the light began to fade as he sank down--
“Steven?” Dr. Sattler prompts again, his brow creases in the barest of frowns.
Steve swallows once and shakes his head as a shrill beeping noise fills the room, everyone flinches, whirling around to the machines before Steve's mother snatches her purse from the nearby chair and rips the buzzing pager out to turn it off.
She glares at the message, "I need to make a call, I'll be back".
Dr. Sattler frowns but steps aside to allow Diane to sweep out of the room.
"Well Steven-"
"Can you call me Steve?" He asks, the words so quiet that Dr. Sattler and Claudia both tilt towards him to hear.
The doctor reaches for the chart again, his eyes flick to Claudia once before landing back on Steve with a small patient smile.
"Of course, Steve," he says deliberately before clearing his throat, "I'll wait for your mother to come back to go over our plan for you okay?"
"Are you," he whispers, "am I going to need a shot?"
Claudia tuts this time, coming around to the side of the bed to brush his hair away from his forehead, "you were so brave for your IV," she says brightly, "if you need another I'll hold your hand, how does that sound?"
Steve blushes as his little face scrunches into a grimace. He knows he wasn't awake when they gave him the IV.
After a beat, he shakes his head, "It's okay, I'm not a baby".
Claudia purses her lips and pats his hand gently, "I don't like needles either, sometimes I need someone to hold my hand, no shame in it, okay?"
Steve chews on that thought for a moment, rolling it around in his head, why would adults be scared of anything?
His dad had made it perfectly clear over the years what real men were like, and being afraid of things never once made the list.
Steve looks up at the nurse and meets her kind eyes, a softer brown than he'd ever seen before with fine lines in the corners creased into a smile.
"I'd hold your hand, Miss Claudia," Steve agrees eventually.
She smiles at him and pats his hand again before stepping away.
"I'll go find your mother, there's only one payphone on this floor so she can't be far," she asserts to Steve before making her way to the door. She whispers something to Dr. Sattler on her way out before disappearing through the door.
"While nurse Henderson tracks down your mother, I'll see if radiology has your scans ready, sit tight kiddo”.
Steve nods as the doctor tries for a small reassuring smile but the effect is lost in the tightness around his eyes. Dr. Sattler pushes open the door which swings back and forth as he disappears into the hallway, leaving Steve to lay back against the flat pillows and scratchy hospital sheets, with only the steady sound of the monitors and the clock on the wall to keep him company.
A new wave of exhaustion sweeps over him suddenly, now that he’s alone.
He wishes Eddie had managed to convince his uncle to let them just go back to their place, he would have been okay if they had just stayed in the truck - he probably wouldn’t have passed out if they had just gone to Eddie’s house.
Steve glares at the ceiling at the unfairness of it all, a small part of him knows that it’s for the best that Dr. Sattler and Miss Claudia are looking after him now, but what will his dad say about the hospital bills, or the bed rest?
He’s not sure how much time has passed. It’s been harder to keep track of here without a proper clock in the room but the sun has moved, carving long shadows in his room in between the copper evening light. He must have drifted off at some point since his mother has suddenly returned as well as Dr, Sattler.
Miss Claudia is nowhere to be found and Steve finds himself feeling rather bereft at her absence.
Diane Harrington stands beside his bed, her hands wrapped so tightly around the strap of her purse that her manicured nails dig into the palms of her hands and her knuckles have been stained white.
Dr. Sattler stands in front of a large box affixed to the wall, it’s lit up with two translucent black and white images on it that the doctor keeps pointing to different areas of the strange lumpy white images while he talks.
“To put it simply, Mrs. Harrington, it’s not good”.
Oh.
Steve feels as though the bed beneath him has dropped away while Doctor Sattler continues speaking.
Steve had aspirated a lot of water into his lungs while in the lake and was already in the beginning stages of pneumonia because of it. So Steve would need to stay on his course of antibiotics and oxygen for at least a week to let his lungs heal and rest as much as possible.
Diane’s expression does not shift during the conversation, remaining artfully neutral the entire visit. She nods and asks questions about Steve’s medication and when he would be allowed to come home.
A flicker of something crosses her face when Dr. Sattler mentions the inhaler Steve would likely need to carry with him at all times.
“For how long?” she asks sharply as Dr. Sattler flips through Steve’s chart once more.
He hums and purses his lips, “honestly, it depends, he could need it for a few months, he could need it for the rest of his life,” he shakes his head and sets down the chart, “we need to see how his lungs look after the inflammation goes down to really be sure”.
“What does that mean?” Steve blurts out, drawing their gaze towards him.
Steve bristles slightly as Diane shoots him the barest of glares. He’s the one in the hospital bed, he can’t even ask questions about what will happen to him?
“The tissue in the lungs is very sensitive and delicate,” Dr. Sattler continues, his words come out slowly as though he is carefully sifting through to choose the best ones, “so, what that means is you may need medication to help your lungs function properly”.
“Steven’s father was hoping for him to join the varsity swim team in the next few years,” Diane says wearily, the first hint of emotion finally seeping into her voice as she sinks into the chair holding her purse.
Steve winces.
It’s no secret that his father’s goal for Steve, his…expectation, is for his son to follow his example to the letter.
Varsity swimming --perhaps even basketball if he takes after his father’s lithe frame of six foot two. Get into college on an athletics scholarship, graduate with a business degree to eventually take over the family business --not that Richard has ever once explained just exactly what he does for a living.
Steve would then marry a nice girl, one he'll meet at college since Hawkins won't have any girls good enough for the Harringtons, and eventually pump out two grandkids for Diane to fawn over.
This was the plan for Steve’s life, there was no room for error.
“Mrs. Harrington, there’s no reason to think he won’t be able to do these things--”
But the words fall flat as Steve’s mother gets up from her chair and stalks out of the room, leaving a wake of disappointment and silence behind her.
A lump begins to form in Steve’s throat and he tries to blink away the harsh sting in his eyes. He knew he shouldn’t have gone to the lake that morning, he’d been told so many times never to go by himself, not when the Harringtons had their own beautiful inground pool installed just three summers ago.
Dr. Sattler breathes out a long weighty sigh and lifts a hand to scratch at a missed patch of stubble on his chin.
He looks between the closed door and back at Steve, seeming to make a decision.
"Okay son," Doctor Sattler sighs, "you're going to hear things over the years about what you will or won't be able to do".
Steve lifts his hand up to wipe at his eyes as discreetly as he can with the doctor at the edge of his bed and nods.
"This does not need to define you, there are plenty of athletes out there with lung conditions and I would encourage you to keep active, it might actually benefit you to do so".
Steve manages to hold back a scoff just barely and nods, dropping his gaze to his feet beneath the blankets.
"I'm not saying you need to go out and run a marathon," Doctor Sattler says dryly at the incredulous expression on his face.
"But you will need to keep them strong and exercise will help with that, so if you like swimming, keep swimming, okay kid?"
He pauses again and adds, "no smoking while you're at it".
Steve's mouth drops open in protest, he's never smoked, well, not a full cigarette at least.
One of the neighbour kids, Tommy, had smuggled cigarettes out of his dad’s pants pocket and taken them to school for everyone to try. Steve had nearly thrown up at the taste and the feel of acrid smoke filling his nose and mouth.Tommy had laughed so hard about Steve spitting into the grass outside the baseball dugout and proceeded to tell everyone he could find.
Steve still associated the taste of cigarettes with Tommy's laugh, the sound turning his stomach just as easily now.
Steve shakes his head under the doctor's unimpressed gaze, "I-I dont--"
Doctor Sattler raises his eyebrow and cuts Steve off with a sweep of his hand, "sure son, just make sure you don't continue, especially because your lungs are still growing and we want to capitalize on that as much as possible".
The doctor pats Steve's shoulder awkwardly, letting his heavy hand rest briefly before he turns away towards the door once more.
"Anyway, I have a feeling you'll be getting a few more lectures in the future so that's enough out of me, you best settle in kiddo, you'll be here for at least a week".
Steve nods tiredly, he can hear his dad's voice in his head now, 'this is the stupidest thing you've ever done Steven--'
"Get some rest, no sense worrying about it now," Doctor Sattler says as he slips out into the hallway without a knowing furrowed brow.
And with that Steve is alone once more.
The light outside his window is beginning to fade into the horizon; he wonders belatedly if Eddie will look for him on Monday.
Steve rolls over, ignoring the new sting behind his eyes and the heaviness in his lungs as he wonders how he can miss someone he just met this much.
Part Two Now Up!
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brrrr rainduo hunger games au
mad shoutouts to bee, beans, daisy and cherry for hopping on the rainduo hunger games bandwagon kdhkdjd
okay so nonnie i have a bit of hunger games knowledge (have watched the first two movies with some pals in the last month, various clips on youtube, etc) so i decided to take this one to my friends in clout farm to bounce some ideas around. niki and wil as tributes? niki as a tribute and wil as an estranged old friend who won the games five years ago and then was swallowed up by the capitol? two coworkers in the world's worst subminimum wage job? then bee comes in with the sledgehammer
for everyone else who also thought oh god i need to google that: avoxes are rebels, traitors or deserters who had their tongues cut out as punishment, and are forced into servitude by the capitol.
alright so. wilbur and niki are two kids in district 12 in the midst of a potential regime change - and they're kids, around ten and fourteen each. to-be-president schlatt is shoving around president dream and it almost seems like this might be a window for change, something wilbur is so passionate about
and then that wrong person overhears, and wilbur is gone.
niki assumes that wilbur is dead. (and tries not to think about how he got taken, because of nothing more than sheer bad luck, and she didn't.) it's awful, but seven years pass and she does her best to cope with it. and then her name is called at the reaping, when she is seventeen years old.
niki has absolutely zero intention of playing along with the games - she thinks they're horrible, just another way for the capitol to terrorise the people of the districts, even if she's learned by now the consequences of actually saying that out loud. she meets her mentor, jack - a year younger than she is, district 12's only remaining victor. he came out of the coal pits at thirteen, with just enough charisma and confidence to win over the sponsors and just enough grit to outlive every other tribute in his games, despite his age.
unfortunately for jack, niki is stubborn as hell when she makes her choices, and she's chosen not to play. fuck the capitol - fuck acting as their entertainment while they burn her entire fucking world down. fuck smiling how they want her to and acting sweet. why should she? she should she, when they've ripped her away from everything she had to lose? niki can hold her own, but not like this - and if she is going to go to her death, she refuses to act pretty about it.
and then she encounters wilbur.
it's one of the dinners for the tributes - one of the early ones, right after they're paired off with their stylists (niki doesn't entirely know what to make of hbomb, who asks her what colour hair dye she'd prefer in one breath and then lays out the most cynical, how-to-get-ahead guide to the games in the second, and then exalts the benefits of a kitty ear motif in the third) but before the interviews and grading. they're eating the fanciest food niki has seen in what is probably her entire life, although it tastes like nothing more than ash in her mouth, and pouring the tributes and their mentors glasses of expensive wine - never mind that almost all the tributes are underage, because when else will they get the chance to drink, hey? niki is still silently fuming, pushing her food around her plate and refusing the sixth damn offer to refill her wine glass and she finally looks up and behind the mask he's wearing, behind the unrecognisable silence, behind seven years of thinking one of her best friends had been horribly killed (and being entirely unable to process that fact) - she sees wilbur.
she immediately asks, wilbur? - not that he responds, and now hbomb and jack are giving her weird looks as hbomb informs her it's just an avox and jack goes oh, yeah, they don't have them in the districts, but -
none of their words matter, because half of niki is solidly trapped in this space between reality and dreams and her worst nightmare - she's only able to pull her shit together once jack has dragged them all back to the district 12 tribute spaces, and gives her the whole spiel about what an avox is, and by extension, what happened to wilbur.
niki is horrified. to think she mourned for all those years, and wilbur was alive - not just alive, but mutilated and tortured at the hands of the capitol. niki didn't think she could become more furious, more enraged with them. she was wrong.
the problem now, then - if niki wants to help wilbur, actually help him, she has to play. she has to win.
(and yes, she does set the forest on fire. she has to win, after all, doesn't she?)
this post is getting so so long so i am putting some more miscellaneous thoughts about The World and more details about niki's games under the cut ⚔️
okay so dream WAS president but was overthrown by schlatt in a "peaceful transfer of power". this was around when niki and wil were 10/14 each - and naturally uprising resulted in a peacekeeper crackdown in the districts, leading to wilbur's capture and arrest :(
2. haven't really nailed down other tributes in niki's reaping (i'm already handwaving the guy from district 12. he doesn't exist to me he is stock image steve) besides uhh ranboo who niki makes brief friends/allies with and then dies horribly. i was thinking aimsey and guqqie because from what i've seen of their content they love a tragedy? but yeah idk
3. sam is the gamemaker for this arena! he was a former victor and has decided to use this knowledge in the worst way possible.
quackity is Also a gamemaker (young upstart with no experience yet in the arena or out of it) and they have terrible workplace drama. is he hooking up with the president? i will not say yea or nay.
4. rest easy in the knowledge that, as a servant to the capitol, wilbur got to see on live television the moment niki was reaped :']
5. niki does, in fact, win the games - by the skin of her teeth. while she is so full of fury at the capitol, i feel like she'd Actually kill like, one career and then feel Extremely ill about it. unfortunately, she has too much on the line to lose. this isn't just about surviving, or going home - she needs to get herself and wilbur home in one piece. she Cannot Afford To Fail.
she ends up winning by setting the arena on fire with use of a match donated by jack and some sponsors he managed to twist the arm of, plus probably some clever digging around in the arena itself to find something flammable (maybe some kind of fuel to power the arena itself?) this fire ends up killing off the remaining few tributes at that point - at least one in front of niki herself - and damages the arena too. niki, already injured before the fire started and now barely clinging onto life past her burns, doesn't even hear the sound of the cannon shots as her victory is announced - she only realises that she's won once the hovercraft descends, perfect steel against a fiery, smoke-filled artificial sky.
she can't really stand the sight of flames after that. unfortunately, fire becomes her new branding.
6. district 13 Is a thing. Eventually. can't overlook niki's beloved anarchist friends :3c
and finally:
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