#I pulled a Meri

[da3drat]

AAAAAH omg thank you!!! I spent so much time changing individual PIXELS on the irises so I’m relieved the expression is hitting lol😭

So she umm. Killed a teenager. To be fair it was an intentional set up to corner her into either letting herself get killed or having to kill a 16 year old in self defense, and she did try to end it non violently and then non lethally but neither worked out. Unfortunately given her history with child death that doesn’t really make a difference to her- she’s completely catatonic for like three days after the incident.

green knight screenshot redraw hehe. I don't want to talk about how many hours I spent making imperceptible expression tweaks trying to capture Dev Patel's big scared wet eyes.

[moyazaika]

housewife syndrome

yandere! rockstar x fem! reader

cw; possessive + obsessive behaviour, severe mental instability, paranoia, anxiety, violence, heavy nsfw themes, mdni 18+

genie's notes; commissioned piece by a very sweet anon ♡ thank you so much for trusting me with this absolutely stunning idea. i’ve always been a fan of domestic horror, especially of the spiralling housewife variety, so it was fun to explore a new dynamic and fresh writing style. <3

"welcome home, sweetheart!" the television runs on low volume in the background as you greet your husband with a knowing smile. you run through the motions as you always do, make sure to ask with the most innocence you can muster, "how was your day?"

feroze can make out the sound of gallant applause that indicates you'd been watching reruns of last night's award ceremony.

"such a fucking drag." your husband pulls you into his arms, buries his head into the crook of your neck with a long, satisfied sigh and takes his sweet, sweet time to breathe you in. "couldn't fucking wait to come home to you, meri jaan."

his answer remains the same as it is every other day, and you can't help but smile against his lips when he pulls you in to steal a little kiss; you sigh into his mouth, and feroze is so fucking overwhelmed by gratitude for the familiarity and comfort of this little routine the two of you have seemed to settle down into so well.

"i love when you call me that," you confess; my life.

you know just as well as him that, well—it wasn't always this easy.

"yeah," feroze hums. "i know you do, baby."

you weren't always so lovely for him, were you?

-

you're quiet.

though the two of you are sitting across from each other at the dining table, your attention is clearly elsewhere. conversation is slow, if not stagnant. it's a far cry from how talkative you usually are; and though he would never fucking admit it, least of all to you, he worries, for a fraction of a second, that things are slipping.

"meri jaan?" he sets down his fork very carefully, reaches for your hands over the table.

you blink, pulled away from wherever you'd been lost in your mind and back down to this moment that stretches on before you.

"oh, sorry, my love. what was that?"

feroze watches your eyes quietly track the movement of his fingers, sliding over your wrists, lingering, momentarily, on your pulse—nice and steady—before they intertwine with your own.

your gaze lands on him, then, expectant. he drags his thumb over your knuckles, glad to find they're soft; unmarred by any labour. he loves having you here, tucked away within the walls of this home he built just for you, away from the rest of the rotten world.

such a darling girl like you deserves to have everything taken care of for you. as far as he's concerned, the only thing on your mind should be him.

which is why the silence is beginning to irritate him, now. he's not really upset with you, doesn't have a reason to be, just yet—he's just wondering what it is you're so focused on. where do you keep going back to in that head of yours, and why aren't you here with him?

is this where it all falls apart?

—again?

"rosy?" you try. "is everything alright?"

"yeah," feroze's hazel eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles, endearingly patient. "i just wanted to know how your day was."

"ugh, don't remind me." you stick your tongue out. "it was so boring. i woke up so late today and didn't really do anything interesting."

"shit, i'm sorry to hear that, baby."

your husband nods towards the television, still playing from inside the living room across the hall; the screen's bright colours reflect against the glass windows that take up half the wall. though the program is muted, he can still hear the echoes from the cacophony of applause ringing loud and true.

the four hour program's been running on loop on some of the smaller channels, and you really seem to enjoy tuning in, he's noticed.

it would be more difficult not to notice this new habit of yours, really. because if he's been counting right, this is the seventh time you've seen the whole thing through to the end.

"seems like you were at least watching the music thing again."

"well, when my stunning husband won half of the awards," you shrug coyly. "how could i not?"

"flattery won't get you anywhere," feroze deigns, though neither of you mention the involuntary curl to his lips as they lift into a small, self-satisfied smile.

"huh, that's strange," you frown, pull your hands away from his own and make a show of examining the elaborately stacked engagement ring and marital band wrapped around your finger. "if i seem to remember correctly, flattery is exactly what got me this ring."

"oh," he laughs. "is that so?"

"uhuh," you nod, still admiring the rings. they're big and they're flashy and there's no fucking chance anyone could ever miss the sight of them; make the mistake of misunderstanding what they mean. you're so obviously his, and fuck, it suits you so perfectly to belong to him.

i love you, he thinks fiercely. i fucking love you.

"you've got an ego, rosy." your knowing gaze flickers back to him, accompanied by a teasing smile. "bit of a praise kink, too."

"and yet, darling wife," he'll never tire of calling you that; never really overcome the thrill that overwhelms him when he sees you adorned in the markers of his devotion and tucked away all safe and sound. "you're the only person whose words mean anything to me."

"ohh, is that so?" you taunt, "whatever happened to 'flattery won't get you anywhere?'"

feroze takes in the sight of you. you're dressed casual, donned in a baggy old shirt and a pair of his softest sweats hanging low off your hips. comfortable in your own home, as you should fucking feel, you have no makeup on, and your hair is unkempt; overdue for a shower; but fuck if he cares.

feroze decides, within a moment, that he needs you—

now.

"come here, meri jaan. i'll show you."

"you greedy, greedy man," you chastise lightly, rising from your seat. "i've just fed you dinner and you're still salivating at my table."

feroze watches you make the small effort of pushing your chair in, before turning on your heel. you pause in the doorway for a second, spare him a knowing glance over your shoulder; "well? aren't you hungry, darling husband?"

he knows that none of it evades you; the nervous bob of his adam's apple as he swallows. the way his fingers are digging into the edge of the table to keep from sinking inside of you right here. his heart is racing; his pants are tight. though you're so willing to be his now, he remembers it wasn't always this easy.

"my love." feroze grits out, "i'm fucking starving."

you disappear into the hallway, mellifluous laughter like the loveliest song, echoing off the walls—inside of his head, for fuck's sake—as your husband follows faithfully behind you when you lead him into the bedroom.

dinner goes cold on the table. you never touched your plate.

upstairs, minutes later, your husband bottoms out inside of the welcoming warmth of your sweet cunt, just as your fingers brush against the butcher's knife tucked right underneath your pillow.

-

feroze gets you to come twice before he decides he has his fill. he's rummaging through your nightstand for the contraceptives he knows you keep in there. it's got less to do with what he wants and more to do with what he believes is best for the two of you.

it's not that he doesn't want children; he dreams of them often. a little baby swaddled in the softest fabrics, wrapping its entire hand around just one of his fingers. the sound of a second pair of footsteps excitedly running down the hall every time he comes home from the studio, from tour. something more to take care of. to keep you busy.

but your husband knows you.

and though he's always been selfish, he can't risk kids until—well, until he knows you won't try to kill them.

it's taken you years to accept him. he won't undo that.

feroze, so caught up in his thoughts, only really registers the blade until it's slicing into his skin, the sharp edge of it pressing against the side of his neck with just enough pressure to draw blood.

he is disappointed, though by no means surprised, to find you on the other end wielding the knife.

he turns to face you, abandoning his search. you're holding onto the hilt of your makeshift weapon with trembling hands, and though he's suddenly overcome by exhaustion—because, baby, how many more times are you going to pull this—an involuntary shiver runs down his spine at the sight nonetheless.

"jaan," he tries to reason with you in hushed tones; oh, love. "what are you doing?"

you dig the knife in just a little deeper, and he winces; "i hate you, feroze." the words sting, though the relative lack of conviction they’re laced with serves as a promising sign of reconciliation.

"i know, baby. can you please just put the knife down so we can talk like adults?"

he glimpses the almost imperceptible change immediately.

the lines of hesitation on your face; a flicker of uncertainty in your eyes. when your hold on the weapon looses just the tiniest fraction of an inch, he wastes no time in gently but firmly prying the knife from out of your trembling hands; tosses it underneath the bed where it lands out of your reach.

he’s getting better at this. gets through to you so much sooner than he used to.

you’re listening, now, aren’t you?

the thought of it makes him oddly proud.

"there we go," feroze says. you're still shaking, and though he wants so fucking desperately to pull you closer and console you—he's learnt to tread the waters carefully in times like these. you're evidently scared. obviously upset with him. he can give you a little room to breathe. “now do you want to use your words and talk to me properly?”

“i keep rewatching the awards show. every other winner had someone there with them. some girlfriend or wife they kissed before they went on stage. you’re the only one who—” you swallow, voice wavering. “i’m the only one who wasn’t there. i’m the only one who’s kept hidden away.”

“you don’t want to show me off.” the tears fall almost immediately. “you’re ashamed of me.”

there are millions of words in the english language, and millions more in his own. he’s put into words every fleeting feeling you’ve made him feel; spun both the most magnificent and mundane of emotions into beautiful songs and compelling lyrics and composed entire albums from nothing—and yet, somehow, in this moment all of it evades him.

"i spend all day stuck here w-waiting for you to come home, and when you do—i keep thinking about all those ceremonies and galas and parties you go to, rooms i can never follow you into—and i hate you. i hate you for how much you hate me—”

“i’m sorry,” feroze’s hands run up your spine, to lightly curl his fingers around the back of your neck. he tilts your head up so that you’re meeting his gaze; leaves you nowhere to look away, “meri jaan.”

his touch is so soft and so, so cold against your skin. you've always run warmer than him; but he thinks you might be burning up right now. maybe you've got a fever; or maybe you're just this delirious even without one. it doesn't fucking matter, doesn't change anything.

“i’m sorry for ever leaving you alone long enough to even think that. let me make it up to you. let me show you how much i adore you. let me build you back up again.”

“you can’t fix this,” you whisper.

he smiles, but it’s strange; doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “so you said the last time.”

-

hours later, you’re less of a sobbing wreck when he’s got you perched in his lap, and all curled up under his chin. “okay… then…” you sniff. your words are somewhat muffled as you bury your face into your husband’s chest. “i’m sorry, too. i didn’t mean to hurt you, rosy. i was just scared, i-i promise.”

"i know.” his knuckles wipe away the tears drying on your cheeks. “give me a kiss, please.”

and ever the sweet wife, you do; but your lips are trembling.

fuck, that’s—

shit.

—not going to work, is it?

with a gentle but firm hand, he pushes you down onto the bed and watches you land on your back amidst the dozens of pillows that decorate the bed. even then, the softest thing here is you. he forgets that, sometimes. let this be a lesson, he thinks to himself, to keep your fragility in mind. this is only further proof that you need him more than he'd even realised.

but you picked the right man, didn’t you? because none of that scares him.

the two of you have faced far more difficult times together; this is just a little hiccup in your life as a married couple. some story you’ll look back on and laugh about, when you’re all better.

so when you look up at him with wide, wet eyes and ask, "its just—can you promise me you still love me one more time?”

feroze regards you closely. you’re so beautiful. so fucking perfect that it overwhelms him. sometimes, he wishes you could see yourself the way that he sees you. though he’s always believed that may just scare you; knowing how deep his devotion really runs. things are fine as they are now.

well, mostly.

he has decided that he will retire from music completely, but the two of you can broach that topic when you’re in a better headspace for it. it’s been a long time coming. work keeps the money coming in, and he wants to spoil you but—he wants you to be happy, above all. you don’t really know what you’re asking for right now, but he has every intention of giving you exactly what it is you wished for.

he can’t give in when you beg to come along with him—but he can come and hide away next to you in this little pocket of the world that solely belongs to the two of you.

"you drive me to madness, my love. nothing about this life means anything if i can’t keep you happy.”

the two of you never had a white wedding; because he wanted to honour your union the right way and celebrate you as his culture deigned. so, yes, he never got to read you any vows, but he'd like to think you've come to know him well enough to understand he doesn't necessarily need to say something so sacred out loud for it to hold true.

"do you understand? i love you," he lowers his forehead against yours. “till death does us apart.”

you put your heart in his hands one more time, looking so small, so vulnerable beneath him. "you promise?"

"i promise," he closes his eyes and revels in the soft, sweeping feeling of your lashes fluttering against his own. "always and forever, meri jaan."

feroze loves you, of this he's certain.

he also knows that you fucking terrify him.

it's a small price to pay, if it means keeping you—

besides, he thinks, reaching once more for the contraceptive pills on the nightstand.

—marriage is all about compromise, is it not?

[cuntphoric]

a/n; indian reader with gojo for @satoruspillow idk if this is like right because i'm not indian myself but i was researching!! i was trying!! i'm sorry if it's bad ☹‼

you’re sitting cross legged on the floor, wearing one of your oversized kurtas—the comfy, peachy pink one that fades into coral - the one you always reach for when you're home and relaxed. it’s late, the soft yellow lights in your apartment glowing like melted ghee, warm and easy. a bollywood movie plays faintly in the background, the scene showing a man playing with a violin but you’re not even watching it anymore, though. gojo’s lying on your lap, his snowy hair a mess against your thighs, his long lashes brushing his cheeks as he blinks up at you like a cat who knows he’s spoiled.

“you smell like cardamom,” gojo says suddenly.

you blink, pausing in your motions—your fingers had been threading through his hair absentmindedly. “it’s probably the chai i made earlier,” you murmured.

“you do smell like cardamom..” he smiles lazily, eyes half lidded. “you’re like a puja in a person.”

you laugh softly, flicking his forehead. “what does that even mean?”

“it means you make everything feel great. even the boring stuff. even me.” gojo catches your hand and presses a kiss to your knuckles, his lips cool and soft. “especially me.”

your cheeks heated up, but you obviously don’t pull away. instead, you let your hand rest on his cheek, thumb brushing the curve of his jaw. he leans into your touch like he’s starving for it.

gojo reaches up and fiddles with your bangles, letting them clink together. “teach me how to say something romantic in hindi.”

you arched a brow. “romantic? why?”

“because you always say the sweetest stuff in your language and i want to make you smile too.”

you roll your eyes, but your heart stutters. “okay. say.. tum meri jaan ho.”

gojo tries. fails. tries again. says something completely different that sounds more like jam than jaan. you giggle into laughter and he grins shamelessly.

“you’re soo hopeless,” you tease.

“hopelessly in love,” he counters, tugging you down into his arms, toppling you both into a heap of laughter and limbs.

[paceprompting]

ornament of christmas past

written for ‘ornament’ | wc: 857 # | steddie | rated: t | cw: no archive warnings apply | tags: pre-canon era & post season 4, toddler steve, gift-giving, cute shenanigans

@steddieholidaydrabbles

Steve went to a public preschool for two whole weeks.

After a termite infestation and a backlog in the exterminator’s schedule, all the children were temporarily transferred to the only other preschool in Hawkins. Being right before the winter holiday, even Steve’s father didn’t bother throwing a fit.

Steve didn’t remember much about the place. Just under five-years-old, not that surprising. He didn’t remember much about the private preschool either, except the bland health crackers they fed at snack.

But he did remember the holiday party the staff had thrown the last day before break. Sugary cake with red and green icing, classic songs on repeat, and a gift exchange of ornaments they’d made a few days before.

Steve had already given his away to a blonde girl he’d played with a couple of times. He’d made a foam snowflake covered in glitter and threaded with a green ribbon.

No one had given him anything.

But that was okay. The kids from the public daycare had little idea who he was, and he wasn’t likely to ever see them again to remember them when he grew up.

The party ended, and all that was left was waiting for the parents and nannies to pick them up.

Another kid sidled up next to him, bumping his shoulder. He ignored it, assuming that everyone’s puffy jackets were to blame for the jostle.

Then the kid bumped him again.

He’d turned to look with a frown his face, and found this wide brown eyes staring right at him. The kid’s head was shaved, dark hair barely growing back in.

“What?” he asked.

“You don’t have a present.”

Matter-of-fact, no room for questions.

“I don’t,” Steve agreed. He didn’t really remember the kid much from those two weeks, if he had ever met the boy before that moment at all.

Whatever reason the boy had, Steve never learned. A man’s voice called toward the crowd—probably the boy’s name, since his attention was pulled over by it—and the boy shoved one of the plastic bauble ornaments into Steve’s hands.

He’d barely kept from dropping it before the boy had run off.

Steve turned the ornament over in his hands. The entire inside had been coated in red glitter with ‘Mery Crismas’ painted across the front in black paint. Or, that was the best Steve could make out, with half the paint streaked across the front.

When winter break was over, Steve went back to the private preschool his parents paid a few thousand in tuition for.

Steve never saw the boy again.

“Where did you get this?”

Steve glanced up from digging into a box of decorations at the sound of Eddie’s voice. Found him turning around a bauble ornament in his hands, catching flashes of red between his fingers.

He extended his hand toward Eddie. “Let me see.”

Eddie bounded across the haphazard living room, half-decorated and the floor scattered with boxes, and took a seat beside Steve on the couch. He bounced slightly on the sofa, curls swatting Steve on the shoulder.

He handed over the ornament.

Somehow, the closure at the top of the plastic bubble had stayed on nearly two decades, keeping the red glitter trapped inside. The painted words on the outside had fared nearly as well, chipping off just a bit on the edges of the letters.

“Had this since preschool. Some exchange thing. Some boy gave it to me.” Steve gave the ornament back.

Eddie quirked up the corner of his mouth. “Some boy have a name?”

“I was only there two weeks. Never saw him again.” Steve shrugged. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous of a four-year-old from my past.”

“Oh, I know I don’t need to be jealous,” Eddie said brightly. He stood from the couch and headed to the bare pine tree by the window.

Steve sat back on the couch, his hands braced on his knees. “You do?”

“Yeah,“ Eddie answered plainly.

He selected a branch right in the center of the tree, facing toward Steve, and hooked the ornament carefully in place. He tapped it with his fingernail, and then aimed a mischievous grin at Steve.

“Considering it’s mine,” he said.

Steve raised a brow high. “You remember an ornament you made in preschool?”

“Well, Wayne remembers me talking his ear off about a boy from the fancy school named Steve around then. Said I should give him a gift for Christmas. Still likes to remind me of it.”

“So your game plan was to shove my present at me and then book it?” Steve chuckled when Eddie shrugged, a pink blush glowing across his cheeks. “And that was better than just talking to me?”

“Well,” Eddie drawled out, walking a back and forth path across the rug.

Steve’s gaze followed him as Eddie walked slowly back toward the couch, his dark eyes fixed on Steve underneath his bangs. He easily moved his hands out of the way for Eddie to climb onto his lap, knees on either side of Steve’s thighs.

Eddie cocked his head, curls falling over his shoulder as he said, “Had to mark my claim, didn’t I?”

[khwabon-ka-seher]

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Hello, everyone!🌻 This is khwabon-ka-seher aka your one and only Naintara greets you all with love, sweet smiles and lots of virtual chocolates.🍫💌

A few days back, I have unknowingly started a Tumblr event where I had interviewed 60+ blogs shining across this dreamy space — Sitaron-e-Tumblr or Sitaron-e-desiblr.

Initially, it was meant to be a small, fun, something lighthearted to keep myself out of boredom, something to satisfy mastikhor ladki in me. And when I say this, I mean it with all my heart, I absolutely loved every moment of interacting with you all.

It has been such a joyful and enriching experience, reading your thoughtful answers, discovering the unique perspectives behind each blog, and sharing laughter and insights. This event gave me a chance not only to learn about your thoughts but to know you a little more closely; as dreamers, as kind souls behind the screens. I want to thank all of you who answered my questions even if I may have bothered them or *ahem* pointed my knife at them. I am extremely thankful of all of youu<333

.

.

Chalo chalo abb meri tarrefo ke pull bandho comments me *smiles* no pressure, my dearest<3 *holding a knife to your chin* absolutely. No. Pressure.

Here are blogs, I've interviewed—

Pyari-naari, im-on-crack-send-help, aaj-fir-jeene-ki-tamanna-hai, soulicious, zooliee, goddessdiviinee, aasshleyy, dayaar-e-ishq, tarakibaatein, mhm-mhm-yeah-yeah, konqurer, celesteablack, kissi-shayar-ki-ghazal, moonmurmurs123, andaaz-e-aafat, r3pl, andreainlove, chaandkideewani, sajra-savera, khaduuu, chaliyaaa, nazuk-kali, vennieeee, taraaladkii, nammagadbad, aisheyaaaaa, chal-jeete-hai, jhumka-dhumka, jellyshinchan, musictrovert, ixty-frixty, natkhat-sa-shyam, hum-suffer, stardustsighs, raat-ki-raani, silverstar07, the-purvashada, love--on-the-brain, bandarrrrr, desikanya, chaosmakethemuse, rashkolnikov-ish, mayakimayahai, cherrycrushlemondrops, rhitid, akard-bakard-bamby-bo, j4nesyre, 404-brain-notfound, delulululu-majnu, sunnyboi-sunset, aahistaa, caffeineconnoisseur, touch-me-not, starlighttaylorsversion, zoobie-doobie, phoolsyou, nyxmahogany, pashmiinaa, bhajiyapav,

[sylus-shivanika]

His colour, Her bloom...

Sylus x desi!fem reader

The sunset bathed your small balcony in warm gold, casting a soft glow over Sylus as he leaned back in his chair, eyes half-lidded, at peace. You sat beside him, your shoulder barely brushing his. No words were needed. Silence itself had become your shared language.

You stood up quietly.

“I’ll be right back,” you whispered, placing your hand lightly on his shoulder.

He hummed in acknowledgment, not even asking where you were going, trusting you’d return, like always.

In the kitchen, you poured his favorite chai (tea) into two deep red rose-colored cups, the ones you’d picked out simply because red was his favorite. You always found joy in choosing little things that matched him. Mugs, bangles, dupattas… tiny details dyed in the same hue as his warmth.

That was your love language, matching your world to his without ever saying a word.

You returned, tray in hand, and sat beside him again. Instead of handing him the cup, you lifted it to his lips gently.

“Careful, it’s hot,” you said with a smile.

Sylus looked at you, really looked like you’d just handed him the whole universe in a cup. He took a small sip from your hands, his eyes never leaving yours.

Then, taking the cup from you, he brought it to your lips and tilted it slightly.

“Now your turn,” he murmured.

You drank from the same spot his lips had touched, and your heart fluttered.

You both held the cup together for a moment, fingers overlapping. The contact sent a jolt through you. You looked away, cheeks warm, hiding your face behind a shy smile.

Sylus chuckled lowly.

“Still so shy around me,” he teased, voice soft like velvet.

He took your hand in both of his, gently caressing your fingers, thumb brushing over your knuckles like a silent lullaby. Then, without warning, he lifted your hand and pressed a kiss to it.

“I notice everything,” he said quietly.

“The way you match things with my favorite color. You think I don’t see it, but I do. And it means everything to me.”

Your throat tightened.

“When you love someone,” you whispered,

“you start loving everything they love. So I started loving red… because I love you.”

He fell silent, completely still, as if memorizing every word you just said. Then his eyes moved to the small pot nearby, the white rose he had planted just for you. You always adored white roses, so he cared for that plant like it was sacred. Every morning, before the world stirred, he watered it quietly, hoping to see it bloom, just to see you smile.

He stood up slowly, walked over, and picked the freshest bloom. Returning, he knelt beside you, gently tucking the rose behind your ear with a reverence that made your breath catch.

“Meri gulaab (my rose),” he whispered,

You blushed at his compliment, and cupped his face tenderly.

“I know, Sylus,” you said softly,

“I’ve seen you water it every morning. You never told me… but I always knew. You love silently, but I hear it so clearly.”

He smiled, that rare, vulnerable smile he saved only for you. He removed the rose from your hair, kissed the petals, then nestled it back in place.

“Now it carries my mark,” he said.

“Like I do, in your heart.”

Your hand reached out, brushing his cheek, and you placed a soft kiss on his nose.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve a husband like you,” you whispered.

Without speaking, he pulled out his phone and played your favorite old Hindi song, Lag Jaa Gale. The melody floated into the air like a dream wrapped in memory.

He reached for your hand again.

You stood with him, arms wrapping around each other naturally, like muscle memory. There, under the fading sun, with a white rose tucked in your hair and red rose-colored cups still warm with chai on the table, you swayed together, heart to heart, soul to soul.

And in that moment, nothing else mattered.

Only love.

Only you and him.

[aronaax]

remembering that one headcanon i had that clef snuck into meri’s containment cell one time and played her a song on his ukulele while she was asleep, now i’m imagining him doing it on other occasions, not even to do anything notable, just stroke her hair, or pull the blankets over her, or kiss her forehead when she’s sleeping, and every morning when she wakes up she has no idea he was even there

and maybe one time he accidentally left his hat or something in her cell, dr light or another researcher finds out and clef gets into HUGE trouble 😭

[dots-in-my-head]

Welcome to meri time, that happens randomly once a month(ish), where i tell you all about a meri au that i cook up in my little noggin and dump a little drawing with it

AU under cut

MERI #1: Doll

A clockwork doll pulled from the dreams of a grieving father— nothing more than an ornamental clock wearing her imperfect visage (at first). She is perfect in the eyes of those who never knew her. Porcelain skin, rosy cheeks, soft lips. Yet she lacks all the fundamental essence of life. Her skin lacks the tan gained by playing from dusk til dawn in the fields and her cheeks lack her sun kissed freckles, every part of her is inherently wrong. With each crack, the clock runs faster. Left behind to rot away, it will continue to count down the years, to the days, to the hours and then finally to the seconds.

Meri comes back after her (natural) death and in Clef’s grief she comes back as a clockwork doll (he reality bends in his sleep and wakes up to clock ticking and his dead daughter brought back as some freaky doll) and she’s counting down to the end of the world (which, in this universe, is always and never) (like it’s happening and isn’t happening at the same time ya dig?)

Anyways have doodle

[orchidsarchives]

Jason x south asian!reader headcanons (I wrote this with a Pakistani fem!reader in mind. However, I did try to keep it neutral)

- He feeds you samosas and ties your hair for you, while your henna is drying. He has the stupidest grin plastered on his face while doing so, it makes his heart feel full

- He studies your native language to try and communicate with you and your family better. He gets really shy when he uses the wrong grammar or pronounces a word wrong

- Jason has a very special place in his heart for Urdu because it is one of the South Asian languages of poetry (I speak this one lol)

- He definitely learned Urdu, Farsi and Arabic for literary and poetic reasons, now you have to hear him recite different sonnets in multiple languages every day (so cute)

- He studied Islamic history and Hindu scriptures. It piqued his interest and if any of these religions apply to you, then it helps him understand you better

- You always make him wear kohl or kajal in his eyes and he never says no

- You sit on his lap and gently add the kajal in his waterline and he can’t help but smirk in excitement. He likes being close to you

- Jason likes to wear black kurtas. Need I say more? They hug his arms so deliciously, he looks so pretty in them

- Your dupatta (scarf) got caught on his watch one time and he couldn’t stop smiling

- He kisses your hand and calls you meri dunya (my world) and meri jaan (my life)

- He’s disgustingly cringe, he watched an old Shahrukh Khan movie with you once and did THE pose (im crying)

- Orange theory but with pomegranates

- Ultimate brown dad behaviour, let me explain, you tell him you like something and the next day there’s a million packets of it

- He’s a Noor Jehan listener and Galib quoter (me)

- Whenever you wear a lengha or any flowy outfit, he’ll spin you around before pulling you in for a kiss

[auggieblogs]

From mine to yours | Max Verstappen Instagram au

Max Verstappen x fem! reader

* ੈ✩‧₊˚ Max does not hide his blatant favouritism!!!

Author's note: HAPPY DIWALI TO EVERYONE CELEBRATING!!! I hope all of you are doing good. This smau is a service to all my brown girlies, (and @maxiepinkz) consider it a Diwali gift. Also, my non-brown girles, all of you can read it just for the funnies (I like to think I am hilarious). Anyway, I love you all so much. Happy reading, my loves🤍

―୨୧⋆ ˚masterlist

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 124,789 others

yourusername Happy Diwali🪔

tagged maxverstappen1

comments:

username parents if I may

username MAX VERSTAPPEN IN A BLACK KURTA THIS IS NOT A DRILL HSJAHDSG

username me and who

landonorris Diwali is my favourite festival actually

maxverstappen1 We'll send over the leftover sweets Lando, don't worry landonorris good because Oscar was worried oscarpiastri EXCUSE ME WHAT THE ACTUAL- yourusername It's okay Osc, we know it is actually Lando landonorris NUH UH

username Y/N, meri jaan<3 (Y/N my beloved)

username this could be us but you don't even know what is Diwali

username dear god when I get to hell please let me bring Y/N and Max

username Everyone should thank Y/N for getting Max out of his rbr merch bc he looks fucking delicious in that kurta

username Thank you Y/NNN username Thank uuuu, Y/N you're doing god's work username we owe you Y/N😭 yourusername You're welcome my bacchas mwah😘 (You're welcome my babies)

maxverstappen1 I love you kaafi zyada (I love you a lot)

yourusername more than redbull sugar-free? maxverstappen know your limits (yes)

username damn this making me feel a different typa lonley

martingarrix Sick party, sick music and I WON THAT GAME OF CARDS

yourusername Martin puh lease🤚🏼🙄

charles_leclerc I need that party playlist Y/N I'm begging

lewishamilton +1

lilymhe omg me too!!!

yourusername anything for my favourite lady🫶🏼

username Y/N making all the firangis (foreigners) dance on desi music like yessss queen reverse colonisation or something

username ik my goat

maxverstappen1

liked by yourusername, danielricciardo and 450,314 others

maxverstappen1 Happy Diwali, from mine to yours❤️🪔

tagged yourusername

comments:

username this is heartwarming awh!!!

username snshsj I love them

sophiekumpen Beautiful, Y/N💕

*liked by maxverstappen1 and yourusername*

yourusername Thank you so much, Sophie🥰

username I absolutely adore the Diwali vibes✨

username he posted 6 pics and 3/6 of them is Y/N I AM ON THE FLOOR

username down horrendously

username can you blame him though???

username I genuinely understand.

yourusername I love you, Max. Kaafi zyada. Bohot zyada. HADD SE ZYADA. (I love you, Max. A lot. Like A LOT. Beyond limits)

maxverstappen1 And I love you usse bhi zyada (And I love you more)

yourusername sharm aa gyi mujhe hehe🤭 (I’m blushing)

username Max learning Hindi for Y/N can be something so personal

username his side quests are getting out of hands

username bro probably did it to impress the in-laws

yourusername he knows 3 languages, what’s one more?😼

maxverstappen1 I am a romantic like that actually😊

username pretty pretty

username nahh this mf keeps winning on and off track annoying asf🙄👎🏼 ( I love them so much)

username oh to celebrate Diwali with my white boyfriend😭🙏🏼

username jokes aside, I want to know what max looks like up close with that kurta on

yourusername rishta material fr🤤 (marriageable)

danielricciardo It's the way we all were at the celebration and you managed to post just Y/N.

maxverstappen1 I do not hide my favouritism

username my desi girllll

username Y/N is living all my f1 driver x desi reader fantasies and I love it for her

redbullracing Hopefully we're invited to the Diwali party next year😁

landonorris nahhh no way after the ladoo incident

alexalbon Y/N is going to pull out her hair😭

yourusername uhm I'm actually conflicted tbh.

username WHAT IS THE LADOO INCIDENT?

Diwali, also known as Deepavali, is a Hindu festival celebrated with great enthusiasm across India and various other parts of the world. It symbolizes the victory of light over darkness and good over evil. Diwali typically involves lighting oil lamps or diyas, decorating homes, exchanging gifts, and enjoying festive meals with family and friends. The festival holds cultural, religious, and social significance, promoting the spirit of joy, unity, and hope.

A ladoo (also spelt laddu) is a popular and traditional Indian sweet. It is a round-shaped sweet ball made from various ingredients, including flour, sugar, and ghee (clarified butter). Ladoos are often prepared during festivals, celebrations, and religious occasions in India. They are considered a symbol of good luck and are distributed as a gesture of joy.

Needless to say, it's my favourite time of the year😁

[lizzie-queenofmeigas]

Daenerys’s bond with her dragons is unique because you can’t frame it through the pedestrian lens of a typical Targaryen dragon rider. She is their mother, their very reason for being, and she was dreaming of them even before she got the eggs. The eggs physically and emotionally healed her, they warmed in response to her emotions and influenced the child in her belly, and corresponded with her actions. The dragons nursed from her and only remained quiet in the Red Waste when she was in their sight. They breathe fire when she’s angry. They hiss when she’s scared. No other Targaryen was ever a parent to their dragons, so trying to impose the rules of those dynamics onto Daenerys’s relationship with her dragons won’t work.

Balerion and Vhagar didn’t burn anyone for trying to bond with them. The argument is that Rhaegal and Viserion are unridden so they’ll be fine to bond with others, but where dragons like Balerion, Vhagar, Meleys, Dreamfyre, etc, accepted new riders, Rhaegal and Viserion even while unridden by Daenerys are still attached to her. When she visits them when they’re chained, they scream and rattle their chains to try and get close to her. When Viserion notices Pretty Meris, his interest is piqued because he thinks it’s Daenerys, and then he loses interest. Quentyn notices that Viserion “wants his mother and does not understand why she’s not here.”

When Quentyn attacks Viserion, Rhaegal burns him alive. It doesn’t matter that they are unridden; no one can pull what Aemond or Alyssa Targaryen or anyone else did by bonding them forcibly just because they’re unridden. Even Euron will die for trying. XYZ isn’t going to steal Daenerys’s children from her in a flourish of triumph. Only people fiercely loyal to Daenerys will be able to ride her dragons.

Exactly. Whoever is to ride Dany's two remaining dragons needs to be loyal to her, incredibly so. They have to love her.

And even if Euron manages to steal her dragons with the horn, I feel like she could have them back because of the bond they share. Kinda like How To Train Your Dragon 2.

[writingbyshiloh]

Nosebleed

Request: hello! good morning/afternoon/night! I was wondering if I could request something from jordan li x fem!reader (established relationship), something like the reader is very very clingy and shy, she is stuck with them all day and it is very strange not to see them together, and Jordan becomes very soft only with her. Maybe Marie's reaction like she was surprised that someone like Jordan could be so soft. Obviously only if you feel comfortable!

AN: I realized when editing I missed some of the prompt but I did get an established relationship w soft Jordan in front of Marie. Still working in the 3k fic but I wanted to do something short and sweet.

CW: Nose bleeds and descriptions of blood, no beta

WC: 0.7k

The situation may feel claustrophobic but the spaced-out seating makes you feel comfortable. Jordan is sitting your your left, Marie to your right for some fun first-year elective about Voughts CEO - Ashley 101. You and Jordan are taking it as a GPA booster. 

To you, Marie is a bonus. You recognized her on the second day of class and called her over, offering a seat next to you. Seating was a free-for-all, especially with most people blowing off this class, but you like her company. It was nice to sit and talk with her before class started. Jordan didn’t feel the same way but kept their opinion to themselves.

“I heard Ashley and the director of the Dwan of the Seven had an affair,” you say, pulling your notebook out of your bag and a few pens. Jordan doesn’t respond past a noncommittal hum, but Marie is wide-eyed in fascination. 

“Emma’s mom told her that Ashley trying to make a documentary about her life,” Marie tells you. You cock your head to the side. 

“Emma’s your roommate right?” you ask. You've heard Merie talk about an Emma but you can’t figure out who she is. You feel Jordan subtly nudge your arm with your elbow, but you ignore them. 

“Yeah. She's in the Crimson Countess school of acting.” Marie says. 

“She’s in Counting.” Jordan pips up. You press your foot against theirs in a silent warning to leave Marie alone. 

Marie shifts in her seat slightly, eyes narrowing in slightly on yours. You can see her thinking, mind racing. What Jordan said is a dick move because no way a first-year would know specific Godolkin slang, it's not horrific. 

“You have a nosebleed.” She tells you, quickly and quietly. You touch your thumb to your nostril to check. Your thumb comes away clean, and you frown slightly. Twisting in your seat, you face Jordan, wanting them to examine your face. 

Hyperaware of your nose you can start to feel the blood slowly trickle down and out. You’re sure your eyes are wide in shock trying to stop the nosebleed by holding your finger up to stench the flow of blood. Your plan is failing, crimson liquid trickling down your finger. 

“Babe! Are you okay?” Jordan asks softly, not wanting to draw attention to you. The pet name and softness probably seem out of place to Marie. 

“I have tissues in the outer pocket of my bag,” you say, twisting your hand so your mouth is free you try to speak. Jordan's eyes flick from your face to behind your shoulder to Marie. 

You feel your bag be tugged by your feet but ignore it. Jordan pulls your arm away slowly, eyes narrowing in on your nose and lips. The bleeding has slowed but you still feel a small swell of blood hit your lips. 

The pack of tissues slides in front of you to Jordan. They take one from the crinkling packet and press it against your nose. With their free hand, they manoeuvre yours to hold the tissue in place. 

Gently, they place their hand on your chin, tilting your face up. You frown at the coppery taste now in the back of your throat and the warm sensation there. 

“You tilt down for a nosebleed.” Marie corrects. Out of the three of you, she would have the most experience you assume. Jordan follows through, hand now on the back of your neck tipping your face forwards, allowing the blood to flow out of your nose easier. You try to wipe the blood of off your lips with a clean tissue. 

“Thanks, Marie.” You say kindly, sneaking a peak at her under Jordan’s hold. She nods and flashes you a tight smile. You worry it's because she thinks you’re weirded out that she told you you’re bleeding. But then you see her eyes dart to Jordan and that makes more sense. You forgot Jordan in public varies from the Jordan you get to see.  

“Thanks, Jord.” You move your head back to Jordan, angle funny as you’re looking up from where they’re holding you. Under the desk, you feel their fingers twisting around yours, squeezing in a silent you’re welcome. 

[captainlunaxmen]

All For The Cameras

Chapter 15 (finale)

Here we are. The final chapter.

I'm so happy and sad it's over, I'm sorry I made you wait, but I almost didn't want it to end.

I hope you guys like it, let me know what tou think about the ending and the whole series, I would really appreciate it ❤️

Chapter summary: well deserved peace.

Chapter warnings: Hunger Games violence, death, grief, Snow being Snow, !!SotR spoilers!!

Tag list

@guacam011y @justtrying2getby @idontevenknow1359 @alexandra-001 @bambikitten @maggiecc @redh00dsbf @haneybunny @1-800-styles @sisiking99 @merromimo @yourdailymemedelivery @regsg18 @gordorio @bambikitten @gracieeleanorr @shev3nom @honethatty12 @savingprivatecass @erindiggory @martahabla @sterredem @aawdrea @wpdarlingpan @strawberry--fawn @barbarathewanderer @ih8books @a-mysterious-potato @mayonesavegana @celinaiscrying @katherinejess @meri-soni-meri-tamanna @abaker74 @syd649 @meikoo @secretsicanthideanymore @p1stachi @laylasshiftingtonight @yourmumstoy @s0urw00lf @kermits-bitch @littleshadow17 @laylamarie222

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@readawaythereality2 @thecrowsgambit @scriptedinkbyxim @lunacurlclaw

I'm sorry if I can't tag everyone😔🥺

I vaguely hear noises from around me, I can tell I am laying down, someone is gently caressing my head. I try to slowly open my eyes.

"She's fine, just a lot happened." I can make out Haymitch's voice above me, so I try to sit up, catching his attention, "Hey princess, easy there."

"I'm sorry." I say, sitting up.

"Nothing to be sorry about." He assures me.

"I wasn't out long, was I?" I ask.

"Not even an hour, but we have news." Cressida comes into view.

"Which are?" I accept some water from Haymitch.

"We got in." She says, "we did it."

"Really?!" I exclaim.

"Yes, princess, we did it." Haymitch confirms, I look at him, my eyes watering and him nodding.

"Oh my god.." I gasp, hugging him, "Katniss? Is she okay?"

"No news so far." He says, "but I wouldn't think the worst. We know her."

"I know, I know, I just..."

"It's okay, I'm worried too." He gives me a side hug, comforting me by caressing my side.

"The medic are ready to transfer all wounded to a more equipped place." Cressida explains, "you could see him then."

"Thanks" I nod, "are there any news about him?"

"They said he's out, but he should be out of trouble now." She tells me, "he's safe, Y/n, he's safe."

I let out a sudden sob and Haymitch hugs me tighter, shushing me.

"It's okay, it's okay," he repeats.

I pull away wiping my tears and accept his help to stand.

"Is there... is there anything to do?" I ask.

"Take a break, Y/n, I know you're trying to keep your mind busy, but take a moment to breath." He tells me, "you're safe."

"I only want to help." I try to hide my nerves.

Haymitch gently grab me by my shoulders, moving me so I face him.

"We did it. You're safe, we're all safe." He cups my face, "you can take a break."

"Okay..." I nod, "Okay... yeah... I get it..."

"You're fine, princess." He reminds me, "don't worry."

He hugs me once again and I allow myself to let out a sigh of relief, a few tears falling freely again, relieved.

We did it.

--------------

They did transfer all the wounded to a makeshift hospital near the Mansion and as, they said, they let me follow Finnick, still unconscious, but alive.

I don't take my eyes away from him for even a moment, too scared something could happen in any moment.

Only the door opening, suddenly, makes my eyes snap away from him.

"Hey." Peeta walks in.

"Hey." I tiredly say, "how are you?"

"I.... I'm surprisingly okay, you?" He comes closer, sitting next to me.

"Just worried." I reply, forcing out a smile, "do you know anything about Katniss?"

"They say she woke up, she okay," he tells me, and I feel my shoulder relaxing a little, "she just refuses to speak... her sister..."

"I understand." I take a deep breath, "they told me what happened, it's... horrible."

"I... I wantwd..." he tries to say something but holds back.

"What is it?" I ask gently, to reassure him.

"I... I just thought that maybe you could talk to her..." he says, softly, "you're the only one who can understand her, it's not comfort... it's about being understood."

"I... I can try." I say.

"You don't have to... I was just..."

"Peeta, it's okay, I will try and talk to her." I gently tells him, he nods his head letting out a breath, "are you sure you're okay, Peeta?"

"I think I am, I do know it's all over, but I'm afraid that... that..."

"Something will linger." I guess and he nods, I take a beep breath, "I'm afraid it will, what you've been through is hard to shake off. And what the Capitol did... is even harder."

"You've been through the same." He tells me, almost to remind me, "I know it might not seem like it, and maybe it's a little selfish... but I almost was glad you were there with us... you always managed to keep me sane during my games and after, so having you there... it doesn't make sense, but I want to say thank you for everything."

"Oh, Peeta..." I feel my eyes burning once again, "thank you."

"And... maybe it won't mean much coming from me... but I'm sure your brother would be proud of you." He then says, giving me one of his sweet smiles, there's still his old self inside.

"Oh now you did it." I say, letting the tears stream down my face freely, earning a soft chuckle from him,"it means a lot, Peeta, thank you."

"We're friends, right?" He says, I can tell he's somehow checking too so I smile at him.

"Yes," I nod, "we are."

He smiles, grateful, he give one quick look at Finnick then sighs.

"Go take a break, I'll stay with him." He tells me.

"I'm okay, I appreciate it, but I'm fine." I reply.

"Listen to him, princess." Haymitch enters the room almost without a sound, or maybe we were just too into our conversation to notice.

"I'm okay. I promise." I try, but Haymitch shakes his head.

"Okay, how about you just go and try to open Snow's vault?" He proposes, "he's in custody and I don't think he would want to collaborate. Plus, you're the most eligible to do it, given your knowledge."

"Where is he?" I ask.

"Don't." He says, sternly.

"What?" I ask, confused.

"You don't have to talk to him."

"I wasn't planning on it." I say, he sends me an unconvinced look, "okay... I did... I did want to."

"I don't think that's a good idea, Y/n." Peeta agrees with Haymitch.

"He owes me answers." I tell them, "if you don't want me to stay here, tell me where he is."

"He..." Haymitch sighs deeply, defeated, "he's in the greenhouse."

"Thanks" I say before standing up, "let me know immediately if he wakes up. Please?"

"Of course, of course." Peeta says.

I nod my head grateful, then I walk past Haymitch and out of the room.

--------------

I stand in front of the doors to the greenhouse, still as a rock. I got permission to enter, but I can't seem to move my feet to do so.

Snow has no power anymore. He can't do anything to anyone. Yet there is something that keeps my heart pounding in my chest, I don't like it.

I can't see much inside, but I do notice some movement inside. I snap out of my thoughts and just enter. The perfume of plants and flower is strong as I enter, I scan the area until I see him.

Snow tending to some roses.

"I was wondering when you'd show up, my dear." He says, turning around and smiling at me, "I've been waiting."

"Of course you have." I say rolling my eyes.

"I gather your district lover is alive." He comments.

"Gather from what?" I snap, hating how he thinks he can still read me like a book.

"You would've come here sooner." He states, rather proudly, "but one thing I have to admit," he says, sitting down on a chair, changing the subject completely, "my most sincere congratulations, I've always thought to be able to see right through you, but you proved me wrong."

"Did I, uh?" I scoff.

"Oh yes, I'm impressed, actually." He says, almost sweetly, "but of course, you're not here to hear my compliments, are you?"

He has a knowing smile on his face, like he still knows me.

"Why us?" I ask.

"Pardon?" He replies, taking out a handkerchief from his pocket.

"Why me and my brother?" I specify.

"Aah, I see." He nods his head, "If I answer your questions, will you answer mine?"

"This is not a friendly exchange, Snow." I snap again.

"Oh." He lets out a surprised and impressed, "how does it feel to not have to pretend anymore, my dear?"

"Answer the question." I insist.

"If. If you answer mine." He stubbornly says.

I sigh, weighing my options. There's no way he'll just leave it.

"Fine." I sigh, "what's your question?"

"Do you know where your fiance went?" He ask, casually.

"Not a clue, nor a care." I reply.

"I would care, seeing how your district lover is still down."

"What are you talking about?"

"Your parents used to be the most loyal to me," he starts, ignoring me, "until they decided they needed time off." He looks me deep in the eyes, " 'our children are young', they told me, 'they need us both, especially our third one, he is sick', they said." That gets my eyes to widen, "ah, you didn't know that, of course, apologies."

"You're lying." I say, more to myself than him, "what did you do?"

"They wanted to quit. Said family was more important, so I reduced their burden." He says, simply, even shrugging.

"I had... I..."

"Another brother, yes." He nods, "that made them change their mind."

I feel sick in my stomach, breathing starts feeling hard and my eyes are fixated on him not caring if he sees my tears or not.

"That was a warning, wasn't it?" I ask and he nods, "so... why did you killed them then? Did they change their minds again?"

"Let's say they tried to use my methods against me." He explains.

"And why taking us in?"

"I have one last question." He says, unfazed.

"Oh fuck you." I snap, for what feels like the millionth time.

"You know the rules."

"Okay." I scoff, wiping away my tears, "but answer mine first."

"I think you already know the answer to that, my dear." He smiles.

"To make an example..." I nod, "the rest of your filthy circle knew about us, didn't they?" He nods his head yes to my question, "fuck..."

"Now... was it your idea to bomb Capitol's children?" He coldly asks.

I look at him, dumbfounded, wondering if I heard him correctly.

"What?"

"Was it your idea to bomb Capitol's children?" He repeats, "you know, the reason her sister is dead now."

"What are you talking about?" I feel like my brain stopped working all of a sudden.

"Aw... don't tell me you really thought that was my idea." He says, condescending, "a waste of lives really."

"And you hate waste..." I start realising, "it wasn't... was it..."

"Are you sure I'm the only monster here?" He asks, laughing.

I shake my head and rush out, needing air desperately.

Once I'm out I take deep breaths, my hands are shaking. I had another brother and Snow took him away from me, then my parents, then my brother... leaving me completely alone. I rush back inside.

"Why keeping me alive? My not killing me as well? I couldn't be THAT useful to you, I just couldn't be worth the fuss." I say, getting right in front of him, he was cleaning his mouth as I entered again, drops of blood on his once white hankerchief, "answer plainly, I'm tired of games."

He looks up at me, catching his breath.

"I could see your potential." He simply says.

"I..." I take a deep breath, regaining some composure, "my only regret is that you lived this long before losing. You consider the Games a reminder of the true nature of people... and I always wanted to know what happened in your life to make you think like that, to make you this," I grimace, "this absolute asshole... but I stopped caring, because no event, none at all could ever justify what you've done."

And for the last time I walk out, not caring if he's smiling or if he's scared.

"I'd keep and eye out for your fiance, my dear." Is all I hear before I close the doors of the greenhouse.

I take a moment, to recollect myself, wipe away the tears that did fall down my face and head back to Finnick.

--------------

I hear commotion as I near the room, cautiously I walk slower to the source of the noise and see some soldiers holding someone down, Haymitch is close, breathing heavily.

"Haymitch?" I call, quickening my pace to him, "what ha-"

"Sweetheart, don't" he starts, but I stop listening, eyes on Cal being held down.

"What happened?" I ask.

"He stormed in, gun in hand. Unfortunately for him Peeta and I were there." Haymitch explains.

"Take him away." I say to the soldiers, "lock him as far away as possible."

They start to shove him away, I turn to Haymitch, but my eyes catch something on the ground.

The gun.

I kneel down to grab it so I can get rid of it.

"I'll just..." I can't finish my sentence because we hear the soldiers grunt and when we look their way Cal is sprinting towards us, towards me.

He shoves Haymitch hard enough to make him fall, he grabs me by my shoulder making me hit the wall.

"You really tested me, my dear... I won't stop until he is dead, lock me away and I will always find a way to get you and him. There won't be a place safe eno-" he stops mid-sentence.

I shot him. I didn't even realise I did.

He look down and so do I, almost as if I'm just as surprised as him. Suddenly he lets me go and fall.

Dead.

I did use a gun before, but I don't think I've ever killed someone... I always slow them down... never shoot to kill.

Not so close.

"Y/n..." Haymitch says my name carefully and then I feel him hugging me, "it's okay, you're safe. Hey, hey, he can't hurt anyone anymore."

I nod, shocked, but relieved.

"Well... we know where to take the body at least." One of the soldiers says before they grab Cal and head off.

"I..."

"Shhh it's okay." He tells me.

"Is he okay?" I ask, "are you two okay?"

"Finnick is still asleep, he's fine." He makes me look at him, "Peeta and I as well. Okay?"

"Thank you." I say, catching my breath.

He nods and head inside with me.

I rush to Peeta standing beside Finnick's bed, I hug him thanking him.

"No need, everything is fine." He tells me hugging me back, "he'll get what he deserve."

"Already did." Haymitch says, "he's dead."

"He is? How?"

"He just got what he deserved." He simply answers.

I then sit down again next to Finnick's bed and just rest.

"Did Snow tell you anything?" Peeta asks, and I nod, "do you want to talk about it?"

"Not now." I say gently, offering him a tired smile.

"Anytime." He nods.

"Could you... could you guys give me a moment alone?" I ask.

"Just an advice, princess." Haymitch starts and I nod for him to go ahead, "just enjoy your time together now. You risked losing him enough. And you don't deserve to go through that pain, okay?"

"Thanks."I nod, understanding, and agreeing with his words. I gently put my hand on Finnick's as he sleeps.

"Call if you need us." Haymitch says and with that he walks towards the exit.

"Whay was their name?" I ask before he could leave, he turns to me, sending me a sad smile.

"Maybe another time," he tells me and I smile at him assuring him it's okay,"she would've love you, that I can tell you."

Haymitch then walks out and I let out a deep sigh, thinking back about all the things Snow said, Cal's death and finally my eyes land to Finnick's body and I let myself smile, knowing he's fine. I lay my head on the bed, simply enjoying a moment of peace.

Third person POV

Finnick slowly, tiredly, opens his eyes. He's confused for a moment, not recognising where he is, nor why he's laying down, but the faint pain in his body slowly reminds him of the sewers. He groans and tries to sit up when he finally notice a little weight on his hand.

Then he sees her.

Y/n is resting her head on the bed, while her hand is holding his. Finnick decides to take a moment to watch her.

She looks tired, yet there's some peace behind it, he tiredly smiles and slowly moves his hand out of hers. He gently touches her head, feeling happy for the first time in years, so much his eyes fill with tears. Suddenly she flinches and sits up straight, only to let out a sigh of relief when she notices there's no one in the room, but when her eyes land on his, she gasps loudly.

"Oh!" She exclaims, "you're awake!" She immediately stands to bend and hug him, but stops herself once she sees his tears. "What's wrong? Are you in pain? I'll call for-"

"No... no" he stops her, taking her hand, "I'm fine, I am more than fine."

"Are you sure? I can call for a nurse." She insists, still checking him.

"I promise you." He tugs at her to sit down again, "what happened after the sewers?"

"You don't remember?" She asks, caressing his hand lovingly.

"There are some... pieces, but they all look blurred." He explains.

"Well... uh... Cressida knew a place, a safe place, Tigris, do you remember her? From the games?" Finnick nods, "she helped us, gave us something to patch you up, but..." she chokes on her words, memories of that night still vivid in her mind, "but I guess you tried to stand and fall, opening the stitches. Then you blacked out again."

"Oh fuck... I'm sorry." He says, softly, "for scaring you."

"Don't. There is nothing to apologise for."

"Where are we?" He finally asks.

"We're at a hospital. Near Snow's mansion." She tells him, and seeing his confused expression, "we got in. Snow is being held and ready for his sentence."

"Oh my god." He gasps, "really?"

Y/n nods, eyes watering too.

A comforting silence falls between them as they look at each other, still not quite believing it's all over.

"I remember you coming back for me." He suddenly says, "I remember... I remember you taking care of me, carring me through the underground station... then...uh..."

"It's okay, no need to strive. Take your time." She tells him sweetly.

"Are you okay, love?" He the asks, not even considering letting her hand anytime soon.

"Me? Finnick, you almost died, you got bitten by I don't know how many mutts down there." She reminds him, surprised by his question.

"So?" He shrugs, a boyish grin on his face, "I'll always worry about you." That earns an eye roll from Y/n, but a smile as well.

"I'm okay." She then says, "I can breath again."

But Finnick can still sense some tension in her.

"You went see Snow, didn't you?" Finnick can't help but ask, and seeing her smile fall was the answer he needed, "did anything happen?"

"Well..." she takes a deep breath, "I... he told me something I didn't know... and I think I still need to process it."

"I'm here for you whenever you need, you know." He gently bring her hand to his lips and kisses it.

There's a pause.

Y/n looks at him, he does too, and she realises how she can look him in the eyes without breaking eye contact, without feeling bad or scared... not anymore.

"This is the longest I managed to look at you." She says, slightly proud.

"It is." He says, smiling brightly, "I guess that scare did the trick." He jokes and Y/n lets out a relieved chuckle, then she simply looks at him and remembers Haymitch's words.

"I love you." She says, tears making their way out, freely. Finnick looks at her, squeezes her hand and lets out a big puff as his own eyes fill with tears too, smiling.

"Thank goodness, I was this close to bring that night up." He says, laughing.

"You remember!" She accuses him, playfully.

"My love," he starts, sitting up "you told me for the first time that you fell in love with me and you expect me to forget about it? Not a chance."

"You're terrible."

"But you love me." He says proudly, "I wanted you to take your time," he says more seriously, "I love you too... fuck this feels good!"

"What?"y/n asks between laughter.

"Saying in out loud." He replies, "finally be able to scream it. I love you, I love you, I love you-"

"Calm down, you need to recover, Finnick!" She tries to calm him.

"You also promised you would tell me whenever I want so... I want to hear it again." he smirks, arrogantly but sweetly and playful at the same time, earning a laugh from her.

"I love you." She says, smiling.

"Again, please." Tugging her closer.

"I love you."

"Again." Closer.

"I love you."

"Again."

They're face to face now.

"I lov-"

She can't finish her sentence because Finnick's lips are on her, making her melt against him. He gently bring his other hand up to cup her face while hers is keeping herself from fully laying on him, not wanting to hurt him.

They pull apart to breath and simply look at each other, feeling at peace at last. Finnick's hand is gently stroking her face, while Y/n sits back down on the chair next to the bed.

"I love you so much, Y/n." He says, sighing, "so so much."

"I love you too, Finnick." She smiles at him.

They both turn their head hearing the door opening, Peeta walking in with a cup in his hand, he stops mid-step once he looks up and sees Finnick awake and well.

"Finnick." He says, relieved too.

"Hi, Peeta." Finnick waves at him.

"How are you feeling?" Peeta asks as he gets closer.

"I'm..." he looks at Y/n, "I'm feeling great."

"He's still weak and needs his rest, but he's out of trouble." Y/n specifies.

"I'm glad to hear that. If I knew I would've brought something more," he chuckles, "I only brought some tea."

"You can give it to him, he needs to regain energy."

"You do too." Peeta gives her a look and she glares at him.

"I'm fine, thank you very much."

"She's been here non-stop." He literally confess to Finnick.

"You didn't have to." Finnick tells her, squeezing her hand.

"I did."

They stare at each other for a moment before Peeta clears his throat to remind them of his presence.

"It's great you're finally awake, Finnick, we did miss you." He smiles genuinely, "and..." he suddenly gets nervous.

"Yes?" I ask.

"Katniss has been moved to the mansion." He says, "she just doesn't talk... nor eat... I was wondering..."

"I'll go talk to her." Y/n cuts him off, "don't worry." She stands up and turns to face Finnick, "I'll be back soon."

"Don't worry, I'm fine." He reassures her.

"I can stay here, tell him what he missed." Peeta offers and Y/n smiles.

"Thank you." She leans to kiss Finnick, and walks to the door, giving a quick reassuring hug to Peeta as she passes.

Y/n's Pov

I try not to think about being in the mansion in this situation, I will elaborate later, now I only need to find Katniss.

I find her in the room assigned to her, staring out of the window, a plate of untouched food sits on a table not far.

"Hi, Katniss." I say, using the softest voice I can, but as expected she doesn't reply, she simply acknowledged my presence looking at me, I sigh walking closer and sitting at the window with her.

We stay in silence for a while.

"Finnick is awake." I tell her, hoping it might steer something in her, even just slightly, but she says nothing, I can only notice her position a little more relaxed, letting me know she's glad to hear it. "I talked to Snow." I then say, not glancing at her, still looking out to the gardens, "still playing games, even though he lost... can't say I was surprised." I let out a bitter laugh, "Unfortunately he managed to hurt me, one last time mind you, but he did... he told me something I didn't know, something I've never even suspected." I take a deep breath, and realise she is looking at me now, "he told me I had another brother. Can you believe that?"

"He might've lied." She tells me, so I turn to look at her. I try to read her, what she might thinking, what she might be feeling.

"Are you trying to convince yourself or me?" I ask, turning back to the window, "he never lies... unfortunately."

"Yeah..."

"You talked to him?" I ask, careful, she nods, "I'm sorry. Whatever he said, it's likely true."

"He... he did say something." She says, and I turn to her to give her my full attention.

Then Katniss starts talking about what Snow told her... about the bombs. I listen to her carefully, letting her speak at her own pace, waiting for her to finish and then share what he said to me.

And we realise Coin might not be that better...

--------------

Alma Coin proved us right when, in a meeting she decided to hold with all the victors and myself, she suggested a symbolic last Hunger Games with Capitol's children.

Obviously, a good amount of the victors were against it, but the majority of us decided to agree with Coin. One look at Katniss and I understood her plan, a plan I should've thought about myself for Snow long time ago.

This gave Katniss the perfect opportunity, standing in front of Snow with her bow and arrow, Coin made her speach and now... now we all hold our breath waiting for Katniss to shoot.

Finnick is beside me, holding my hand sensing my nerves. He was surprised when I agree to another Hunger Game, but I know he trusts me and I will soon explain the reason to him.

I watch Katniss aiming, determined look on her face, then her aim changes pointing at Coin and shooting... hitting the target.

And all hell breaks loose.

Snow starts laughing and choking on his own blood, soldiers comes to get Katniss and the people are on Snow in seconds. We are lead back, Haymitch makes sure I'm okay.

I'm afraid this act won't be forgotten and I'm getting nervous for Katniss' fate.

--------------

"So?" Finnick asks as I enter the room after my meeting with Plutarch.

"Well... uh..." I start, "she won't be facing anything drastic, no imprisonment, nor execution, but they will send her back to district 12."

"Really?" He says letting out a sigh of relief.

"Yeah... yeah... Gale and Beetee testified about their involvement with the firebombs, justifying her actions, using insanity as an excuse... sort of." I explain.

"For her sister's death..?" He asks and I nod, "it's..."

"Absurd? Absolutely." I say, picking at my skin.

Finnick notices my fidgeting and holds my hands.

"Hey... hey... what's wrong?"

"I just... I don't know, it's not fair..." I say, my voice breaks, "after all that, she doesn't deserve to live in... exile like that."

"I know, my love." He hugs me, "maybe they will allow us to visit."

"Of course we can, it's not an actual ezile and Haymitch will go with her... I just... I just think she deserves more than this." I look up at him, letting him caress my sides.

"Maybe this is what she needs, all this... this rebellion took a lot from her, and all she needs now is peace." He says, comforting.

"Yeah... maybe ypu are right." I say, "I hope you're right."

"It's what we all deserve, don't you think?" He asks.

"We do."

"I..." he starts, "Uh... well... did Plutarch ask you to be a part of the new... 'government'? I mean, they would be fools not to keep you, you're smart, your... your plans are brilliant. You. You are brilliant. So it only makes sense-"

"Finnick." I stop him and he closes his mouth smiling embarrassed, "they did... Well, Plutarch did."

"Understandably." He says, I can see there's something he's not saying, something he want to ask.

And I think I know what that is.

"I declined." I say, he takes a moment and then relaxes, relieved.

"Good, good..." he tenses again, "wait, is it really what you want?"

"It is." I say, nodding.

"Great... I was about to say how you too deserve some peace after all these years of... surviving. You deserve to breath."

"So do you." I specify, "so... what were you thinking about?"

"Well... we get to go home." He says before leaning down to kiss me.

--------------

Finnick open the door to his house in the Victors' village in district 4.

"Make yourself at home, my love." He tells me as I put my things on the floor, taking the interiors in.

"Well... we'll make it ours soon, but it's a good start." I smile.

"I can't wait to replace all bad memories with good ones." He wraps his arms around me from behind, "I'll take you to the beach, we'll go fishing... we... we can start our own family... what do you think?" That makes me tense and he notices, gently turning me to face him, "what's wrong?"

"I... uhm... there's something else... something else they did to me..." I nervously say.

"Hey... hey, it's okay." He tells me, caressing my cheek gently.

"I'm... I'm not sure I'll be able to... you know." I tell him, overthinking it will ruin everything.

I pull away from him.

"My love, look at me." He softly says, "I love you with all my heart, nothing will change that, okay? Nothing." I nod understanding, relaxing a little, "also... it's not a sure thing right?" I shake my head, "Okay, then we can try and if it's supposed to happen, it will. No pressure, no worries, no fears."

"I just... I don't want you to settle for someone who is... broken." I tell him, "That's why I..."

"Hey," he stops me, "you are not broken. There's nothing broken about you. Even if you can't have children, that doesn't mean there's something wrong with you. You are still perfect to me."

"Finnick... you are too kind to me." I tell him.

"Yet, you deserve more." He smiles at me, taking my hand, "we'll try, whatever happens, happens. I. Love. You."

"I love you too." I say, tears threatening to come out.

"I'll never get tired of hearing you say it." He says excitedly.

"I know." I laugh, fully relaxing, "thank you."

"No. Thank you, my love." He says, "plus... trying sounds really fun to me." He pulls me to him.

"It does, doesn't it?" I chuckle, gently putting my hand on his cheek, caressing.

"Oohh, my love, it definitely does." He kisses me with a smirk, "so... wanna take a look at the bedroom?"

"Lead the way, Odair." I grin as he suddenly takes me in his arms, making me let out a loud gasp, "Finnick!"

"I'm leading the way." He chuckles.

He brings me to the master bedroom and gently puts me on the bed, leaning down on top of me kissing me.

Obviously I kiss him back again, and again, and again... and again.

Finally at peace, finally happy.

--------------

Epilogue

"My love, we're here." Finnick gentle voice wakes me up, signaling we finally got to 12.

"Oh, thank you, hun." I say, standing up.

"I love it when you call me that!" He says all giddy.

"I know." I laugh and walk with him off the train.

We find Peeta and Haymitch waiting for us, I immediately rush to them, hugging them tightly.

"Hi, princess." Haymitch says against my skin.

"Hey." Peeta says softly.

"I miss you two so much." I say, before breaking the hug so that Finnick could greet them too.

"So did we, princess." Haymitch takes my hand, "is he treating you right?"

"He is. I promise."I say smiling at him, who not so subtly glares at Finnick, although playfully.

"Where's Katniss?" Finnick asks.

Peeta and Haymitch shares a look I can't quite decipher, making my curiosity grow, along a little bit of anxiety.

--------------

"Oh my god!" I exclaim, rushing to Katniss once I see her by the door as we arrive to their victors village house, "you're... you're pregnant?! And you didn't tell me!"

"We wanted it to be a surprise." She tells me.

"That's wonderful." I say, hugging her, "I take this is a better world now for a child."

"It is." She nods.

"Congratulations, Katniss." Finnick hugs her too.

I turn to Peeta, rushing to give him a hug as well.

"Oh you're going to be a great dad." I tell him and he smiles timidly.

"I hope so." He says, embarrassed.

"You will." Finnick agrees with me, "you both will be amazing parents."

"Plus the child will have a great uncle to brighten up their days." Haymitch says, earning an eye roll from Katniss.

"Let's get inside, we can prepare lunch." Peeta let us inside.

"I'll go check on the geese before lunch." Haymitch says and everybody nods, "want to help me, princess?"

"Gladly." I say, kissing Finnick before following Haymitch.

We arrive to, what looks like, a small clearing in the forest where a bunch of geese slowly gather around us.

"Guys, this is Y/n." Haymitch kindly introduces me to the pets.

"They are so cute." I say, softly not to scare them off.

I kneel down to look at them better and one of them slowly arrives to me, almost to make me pet it, which I do.

I can feel Haymitch kneeling beside me.

"She definitely would've loved you." He says, making my mind go back to the days Finnick was recovering from the mutts' attack.

"I'm glad to hear it." I smile at him.

"Her name was Lenore Dove." He tells me, "she was my love."

"She must've been really kind to put up with you." I tease him and he chuckles nodding his head.

"She really was, but I too was a different person back then." He looks at me, "if you'd like to know."

I nod my head, feeling like he's opening up to me. He starts to tell me his story, and I listen carefully. He told me all about Lenore Dove, all about his family, he told me he had a brother, who died at the same age as mine, this made me cry. He also told be about his Games, how everything was manipulated. After he finishes talking I can't help buy hug him, saying how sorry I am.

"It's okay, princess. I'm okay." He tells me pulling away to look at me, "thank you for listening."

"Anytime, Abernathy." I smile, tears still in my eyes, but happy he decided to tell me his story.

"C'mon, let's head back." He stands up, helping me as well.

"Do they know?" I ask.

"Yes, it was about time I told someone and you lot are family." He let me take his arm as we walk back to the house where lunch is finally ready and everyone is ready to eat.

I sit close to Katniss finally talking like friends and not allies. It feels good. Good is the word. If someone looked at us now, they might think we're a happy family, and it's all I need.

We lost our owns along the way, but we found another, not to replace the old one, but to feel alive again.

--------------

I lay my head on Finnick's chest, Katniss and Peeta gave us the guest room, so now we are laying down together, enjoying our company.

"Are you okay, hun?" I ask him, caressing his chest

"I am." He replies, "are you?"

"More than okay." I tell him, "I'm finally breathing."

"I sometimes can't believe it, you know." He says letting out a chuckle.

"Neither can I." I look up at him, getting closer to kiss his lips tenderly.

The kiss gets deeper as he wraps his arms around me pulling me closer.

"I love you." He says in between kisses.

"I love you." I say it back, "I love you. I love you."

"Should we try again, my love?" He asks, smirking devilishly at me.

"They might hear, Finnick!" I scold him.

"So?" He looks at me, feigning innocence, "we'll be quiet."

"You? You quiet? Yeah... and Johanna's favourite colour is pink."

"Well it's not my fault you are so fucking good." He says before attacking my neck with kisses.

"We're guests, Finnick." I tell him, "be respectful" I chuckle.

"Okay." He says defeated, leaving one last kiss to my neck before laying back down, with me cuddled up next to him, "but, just so you know, once we get home... it's over for you."

"Oh well, I hope so." I say, giving his chest a kiss and laying down on it again.

"Oh god... I love you so much." He sighs, content.

"I love you too, so so much." I smile and let him cuddle me to sleep.

Finally no more pretend, no more faking anything, no more audience, no more show...

All of this, this love, is for us... not for the cameras.

[pixie-stikk]

Random Scp Headcannons (but it's just clef and kondraki):

Dr clef is the type to say "grassy ass aye migo" at mexican restaurants in his thick ass country accent and think that he's doing something

Kondraki has the ass of a desert rain frog and i will not be elaborating further

Kondraki is a cokehead. i cannot explain it but he's always off that pure hollywood 70's booger sugar.

clef is the type to lace weed with salvia and see what happens.

Kondraki is the type to dress as the phantom from phantom of the opera on halloween then act all pretentious about it and then get mad when he doesn't win the foundation's halloween costume contest.

Since clef is asexual, him and kondraki don't get intimate in the traditional sense. instead their version of sex is beating the shit out of each other and then laughing about it after they almost kill each other. then they go to the bar.

Clef paints his nails. he usually does it for Meri but he'll experiment with different colors and styles. if he didn't like to play the guitar my man would be rocking the four inch stiletto nails.

Both of the two crossdress sometimes. Clef more than Kondraki. Clef will pull up in the most sluttiest outfit ever with his chest and half his ass out and go on about his day.

Clef has the ass of a baseball player and i will stand by this. I think that man is thicker than a bowl of oatmeal and i know it in my heart.

Kondraki will sometimes rest his head on Clef's ass while reading files and hope to 343 that man doesn't fart.

Clef has a very high spice tolerance and Kondraki has the tolerance spice of a british orphan. The two of them tried the hot chip challenge and kondraki nearly died.

Kondraki smells like pine, soil and smirnoff while Clef smells like bounce that ass and a small bit of wood.

[avoxrising]

The Feral One • Epilogue

Finnick x Y/N

Series Masterlist Link

Prequel is coming in a few months! I haven’t made a Taglist yet and probably won’t start one till I’m closer to publishing. I’ll make a post tagging this series’ Taglist when I’m starting the next one.

Content Warnings - Mentions of fertility issues/miscarriage; death; the end of this series (don’t worry it’s a good ending imo)

Dear Brielle,

A lot has happened in seventeen years. I’ve now lived half of my life without you, mom, and dad. I’ve been thinking about you a lot so my husband Finnick (yes that Finnick lol) said I should write you a letter of all the things I wanted to tell you but never could.

A little over ten years ago we killed President Snow. The districts rebelled and won. The war was brutal and there were times I nearly died, but Finnick pulled me through.

We got married a year later. We never really did the whole dating thing, our friendship just evolved into a beautiful romance overnight. He was there for me after you left and he has been here ever since.

The years since the war have not been easy. I’ve had bouts of seizures that leave me bedridden and ill for days. The doctors said my condition should be worse so I should be grateful. Countless medications and treatments have made slight improvements to my health but the pain will always be there.

Two years after our wedding we almost hit our breaking point. Finnick and I had been trying to start a family for over a year but nothing was working. It was the most frustrating experience of my life post-war and I do not wish those struggles on anyone.

Three years after our wedding, Mags passed of old age. Although we were sad, we were all glad she got to live out her last few years in a free Panem. Johanna decided to move in with Annie afterwards so she wouldn’t be alone. We are still neighbors to this day.

Four years after our wedding, I got pregnant, only to lose the baby a few months in due to a bad seizure. This was Finnick and I’s lowest point to date.

It’s now been a bit over 9 years since I married the love of my life and the father of my child. We were finally blessed with a baby boy, Neptune, 4 years ago today. He is everything I could have asked for in a child; rambunctious, kind, and adventurous. He looks just like his father but acts like his mother.

Two years ago, Neptune’s best friend arrived in District 4. Annie and Johanna adopted a little girl, Jodie, from District 7. Neptune and her do EVERYTHING together. Finnick keeps joking that we should build a tunnel between our two houses so the kids can hang out all the time.

All in all, it’s been a very painful 34 years of existence. Part of me is glad you didn’t have to witness what happened. The other part of me still hopes you’re out there, even though I know you aren’t. I hope that wherever you are, you’re at peace.

Love, your dear sister,

Y/N

Taglist:

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*if the tag didn’t work please check your settings to make sure other blogs can tag you

[finn-hasnoclue]

was i at work all day and not thinking about my au? sadly. here’s a crumb.

meri is lizzie’s service dog. its not common for endometriosis and they didn’t intentionally train her to be a service dog originally. joel started training her but she would stop training (just straight up leave) before lizzie started not feeling well. pretty much alerting lizzie.

eventually they realized what she’s doing and joel starts teaching her some more standard service dog tasks (grabbing thing, closing doors or open doors with pulls, retrieving another person).

when joel starts getting migraines she also starts alerting to those. overall the glue holding these people together.