#‘why do you hate thresh so much?’

[thomas-jefferson-miku-binder]

thresh can’t win that non-human popularity pool. i won’t let him

[angstywaifu]

The Lost Sister - Part 8

Synopsis: Xaden is known as an only child due to his sister who 'died' during the Rebellion. Little do they know she didn't die and has been so close this entire time.

Garrick Tavis x OC A/N: Wasn't going to double post today but I'm feeling generous with it being Valentines Day. Sadly nothing super romantic about this one, but I promise some really good stuff is coming soon! I also have a few more one shots, but my requests are open if you have any more you guys want to send through! The Lost Sister Masterlist | Masterlist

The rotunda is empty as Imogen and I enter. Everyone in the dining hall eating. The feeling of being alone should unsettle me given recent circumstances, but after today I feel like that’s behind us.

Usually I would feel her eyes on me, but as she approached me in the hall I had no idea. Though I had been a little distracted at the lack of Garrick, Xaden and Bodhi at dinner.

She leads me over to the edge of the rotunda, and sits on the ledge, leaning up against one of the pillars. I copy her on the opposite side. For a few moments we sit in silence, looking out over the trees and mountains. It’s beautiful under the moonlight. In the distance I occasionally see dragons flying around. I wonder if one of them will be mine come threshing.

“I’d say I’m sorry for how I’ve acted towards you and what I did today. But I’m won’t. It’s just my weird way of processing this I guess.” She finally says, still looking out over the trees. “But, I can’t assure you it won’t happen again.”

I slowly nod my head. “Thanks, I guess.”

She looks over at me as if confused by my response.

“Not going to lie I was expecting a different response out of you regarding this. Also kind of surprised Garrick isn’t attached to your hip after what I did.”

I can’t help the laugh that escapes my lips. “Yeah well I kinda ran off after he told me he had feelings for me and I haven’t seen him since.”

She narrows her eyes at me and the look she gives me is like she thinks I’m crazy. Which honestly, I definitely am.

“You ran off?” She emphasises each words.

“Yeah.” I lean my head back on the pillar and sigh. I was such an idiot. “I ran off. Like an idiot. And now he’s nowhere to be seen.”

She shakes her head and laughs at me. “Well if it’s any help, I don’t think you haven’t seen him because of what happened. With Bodhi and Xaden also both gone, and from what I could see their dragons to, I think something’s come up.”

I nod. She’s right. In the last few weeks it had become almost normal for the boys to disappear some nights without much warning. But it still felt like it had to do with me. Maybe they went out to help Garrick clear his head. But if that was the case I’m sure either Xaden or Bodhi would have come to see how I was.

“I’m sure Garrick has told you are history and why I’ve been the way I’ve been?” She finally says after a few minutes of me swimming in my own thoughts.

“Yeah, only took me weeks of asking and then snapping at him in the healers quadrant before.” I tell her, earning a laugh out of her.

“I knew I’d like you. Even if I hate how much you have Garrick wrapped around your finger, I can see why.” She says with probably one of the first genuine smiles I’ve seen on her since I’ve been here. “And honestly I did this to myself. He always said he couldn’t give me more than something casual. That his heart lay elsewhere. He never said who, just that they were part of the rebellion casualties. And then you showed up.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause any issues. Though was inevitable with everyone thinking I was dead for the last few years. Though I didn’t know Melgren’s plan till the night before conscription day.” I look away from her back out over the valley below us.

I catch the sad look that passes over her face as she studies me. “Don’t be sorry. You being back, as much as its annoyed me in one aspect, has been good the the guys. But can you promise me one thing?” She says as she stands.

I look over at her and nod.

”Don’t fuck it up. He deserves to be happy. And you definitely make him the happiest I’ve ever seen him.”

And with that, she turns and leaves me alone in the Rotunda with my thoughts.

Imogen’s words hang over my head. Don’t fuck it up. Easier said than done. Part of me is over joyed that Garrick shares the same feelings. Though looking back I’m an idiot for not seeing it sooner. I just put it down to us being best friends. Yes he wasn’t like that with Xaden, but I was a girl. Of course our friendship would naturally be a little different.

But part of me is also terrified. What if it goes badly? What if it puts a divide in the dynamic of our group. I couldn’t live with myself if I came between Xaden and Garrick. As much as Xaden is extremely loyal to Garrick, Xaden would pick me over him without a question. It would destroy him. But he would do it. And that’s not something I’d want him to do.

So I do the stupid thing and avoid them. Which sadly is quite easy with how little they are around. They’re in our daily battle brief class, wedged up in the back corner. I know cause I feel their eyes on me despite not turning around to see if they are there. But when it comes to challenges, their appearance is few and far between. And if they are there I do my best to blend into the crowd. As best as I can with my hair colour. Though I haven’t dyed it since arriving, and at nearly 2 months in my natural dark hair has started to shown through. Rhiannon and Violet keep telling me to let it grow out as it looks good with the dark red.

But outside of classes, I rarely see them. I get glimpses of them, but most nights they aren’t at dinner. Imogen makes comments about them being sent out for drills and such. Must be part of being a third year. Though I do notice they are gone more often than the other third years.

A few times Garrick tries to catch me after battle brief or find me at challenges, but somehow I manage to get away. I’m not quite ready to have the conversation he wants to have. But I can’t avoid it forever. A few times I nearly cave when I see the pained look in his hazel eyes. Pain I was causing. Pain I’d seen in Xaden and Bodhi’s eyes as well.

Soon our gym time turns into Gauntlet training with presentation day around the corner. So far our squad has done pretty well. Only one casualty so far. One I had to watch Violet almost be apart of. She hid it but I knew how much it killed her on the inside. She was yet to fully complete the gauntlet and today was our last day of training before presentation day tomorrow.

As we walk up the stairs to the gauntlet my heart drops. Not only is Xaden standing off to the side, Garrick is with him. It wasn’t uncommon for leadership to watch their squads do training on the gauntlet, so far neither had turned up for ours. Of course they show up on the last day.

Rhiannon who is next to me must notices something is off and follows my eyes to where Xaden and Garrick are.

“Why do you look so scared to see Xaden and Garrick?” She asks.

I hadn’t quite built the relationship with her that Violet had, but it was getting there. But I hadn’t told her about my interaction with Garrick after the challenge with Imogen.

“Remember how he took me to the healers after my fight with Imogen?” I whisper to her so the others around us don’t hear. The last thing I need is gossip spreading about this while I’m still figuring my own feelings out.

She nods. “Yeah I remember. Practically rushed over and scooped you up in his arms before you could get off the mat. Was quite romantic.” I roll my eyes at her.

Our group comes to a stop in front of the gauntlet, Xaden and Garrick making their way over with Emettiro. Both their eyes locked on mine.

I lean closer to her. “He might have confessed he’s essentially been in love with me for years and years despite me being dead and I kind of panicked and ran off and have been avoiding him ever since. Which also means avoiding my brother.”

She shakes her head and chuckles at me. “Girl I could have told you he was in love with you. No one looks at someone the way he does with out being in love.”

I go to reply but Emettiro calls us to start running the gauntlet. And I’m glad Rhiannon and I end up near the front, being one of the first ones to go. Though I doubt Xaden and Garrick are here to try talk to me, as much as they may want to. At the end of the day, they want the wing to do well.

I step up as Rhiannon takes off, my eyes meeting Garrick’s. His face is a mask and I can’t read it at all. I can tell he’s upset though. He’s never like that with me. I’m one of the few he never puts a mask up for. Xaden on the other hand is intently focused on Violet who is behind me. Before I take off up the gauntlet I offer Garrick a quick smile. For a brief second before I take off, his mask falters and his eyes soften as he gives me a tight lipped smile. The entire way up the I feel his eyes following me. He’s yet to see me climb it. And probably won’t tomorrow as most of the leadership wait up top for their squads and wings to pass the gauntlet.

I reach the top with ease. Yet again Melgren’s training had really prepared me for this. I’d barely had any issues getting up the gauntlet in the first day. And most times I caught up to or passed the person in front of me. As much as I didn’t want to think it. I was grateful for his training over the years. I turn around to look down the gauntlet to see both Garrick and briefly Xaden looking up at me. Both look happy with how easily I made it up. Xaden’s gaze drops to something below me. Violet is yet again stuck on the last parts of the gauntlet. And dare I say, does Xaden looks concerned? His eyes shift up to mine. We both know she needs to find an alternate way up the last part of the gauntlet.

Part 9

@riorgail @going-through-shit @fw-gt @bbkissme99 @xceafh

[skyfallscotland]

I’m doing a reread of Fear and Flame. Question- Are we going to find out what happened between Remi and Violet by the lake? Remi refers to something that happened there a few times.

Also, it’s so hard to read the first half of the story. It’s so angsty and Remi’s pain bleeds off the page, which is a compliment to your writing. My heart just breaks for her. I hate that the first few months are so awful for her, especially compared to Violet.

The first part of the story is definitely hard and I know a lot of people found it tough to read, a few people told me they wanted to DNF and I know some people probably did, but I wanted it to be real. I poured so much of myself into it. I kind of was on that journey with her 🖤

She's definitely still struggling with herself in Truth & Talon, but she's also in a much better place, so I hope that will shine through.

Despite how frustrated I am and how upsetting it is that I won’t be able to see Xaden this week…I look around at the people in front of me, at what I have today compared to six months ago—at the sister who wants me around—and I wouldn’t trade it. Not for anything. 

So about that first part... *laughs nervously* I'm hoping I'm thinking of the same thing, if not, I've forgotten about it, but do we mean this?

"It terrifies me, that what you felt drew that sound out of Lía." She says softly, smile faltering. "If you're sad or you're scared, Remi, I want you to come to me." Her tone is gentle. "Let me help you, even if all you need is a hug." My heart twists a little and I swallow harshly, gritting my teeth as I nod, thinking back to that night by the Iakobos. Maybe things really will be different from now on. "Ok."

If so, then she's referring to this night, which really hurt her:

She shakes her head. “Rem.” She looks at me seriously. “You want to know why I’ve been so angry with you?” She asks. “It’s because nothing has changed. We’ve been thrown into this—this crazy big, death trap of a circus and you’re—you’ve just given up.”

My breath hitches. “It’s not giving up, Vi. I’m just facing facts.” I tell her. “I’m not very likely to survive in here. I knew that from the moment Lilith laid down her decree and told us we’d be coming here.” I shake my head and despite my best efforts, a few tears fall from my eyes. “I’m ok with it, really. I just want you to make it.”

Violet shakes her head. “If I can do it—”

“I’m not you!” I cut her off, almost yelling in the darkness, underneath the trees. “I’m not you, Vi.” Tears are streaming down my face. “I’m not you and I’m not Mira and I’m not Bren.” I cry. “I don’t want to be a dragon rider. I’m fucking terrified of heights.” I choke out. “Even if I made it past the Gauntlet—and I don’t think I will—no dragon is going to bond with someone who’s terrified of being in the air.”

“I’m fucking scared, Vi.” I sob. “And I’m tired. I’m so, so tired. I just want to give up, ok? I’d rather die on the mat, than falling.” Because that happens all the time after Threshing. Riders fall from their fucking dragons and die.

We stare at each other and I watch as Violet’s face turns from shock to anger. “So what?” She glares, “you’re just going to give up and leave me here all alone?” She steps forward and shoves me, bodily. “You think I’m not fucking scared?!”

“I think you’re adaptable.” I say truthfully. “I think you’re strong where I’m weak. I think you can do it.” I shake my head. “This is…a pointless argument.” I tell her. “I don’t want to fight with you.”

“And I don’t want to lose you.”

We stare at each other.

“You don’t even like me.” The words leave my mouth, unbidden.

[kaya59gx]

Unpopular opinions:

1. Unbound Thresh being a pretty boy actually helps more than hurts.

2. Thresh having more human emotions isn't a horrible option.

Am I biased? Yes. Very much so.

But if you'll excuse the bias for a moment and listen to my opinion-

Although league is full of pretty boys already, Unbound Thresh receives a lot of shame for it considering his original design and people don't seem to think it fits his character. But I'm the weirdo who thinks him being attractive isn't a bad thing for a few reasons- It creates a false sense of security. You see an attractive man and Don't think to look beyond it, to take into consideration what he may truly be like. You're much more likely to approach someone who looks attractive, right? And much more easy to turn into a victim. You'll trust him if he leads you into an alleyway thinking he can help you with your greatest problems, only to find yourself chained to the ground and entirely at his mercy, and to realize all too late that his hook and crystalline lantern are waiting to drag you in and keep you there.

As for the second opinion.

Unbound Thresh having emotions provide something else that I find to be intriguing- an opportunity for a form of character complexity and analysis.

I'm one of those people that likes to take a deep dive into characters and their psychology (though do take into account I'm not an expert), and creates OCs to delve into my own psychology at times.

Long story short, I write.

Unbound Thresh having emotions and human responses to things rather than being an emotionless monster provides an opportunity to analyze him much more deeply. It gives us a chance to really pause, take a minute, and think about it. Why did he 'save' Bort in his intro cinematic? What was up with those facial expressions and his body language while he was in the Tavern watching him? What makes Unbound Thresh Tick?

Also if you look at the model his features are less defined so it might have been a choice of time to make him a pretty boy. I do dislike how pudgy he looks, I will agree there. I refer mostly to his cinematic appearance (which I realize most people don't mind) in my short essay, but the point could easily be applied to his actual in-rift model.

Again, I have a biased opinion. I'm that weirdo who thinks Thresh is attractive with both his Unbound appearance and his in-league one.

But even still, I feel that the hate he gets isn't deserved. By this point, everyone should know to trust the league writers. They have a plan for our skeleton man!

It is simply a matter of time until we uncover what exactly it is.

[sirensorisons]

In your opinion, please rate thg movie series with 1-5 scale.

(1 = I hate it, 3=neutral, 5 = I love it.)

1.The Hunger Games :

Things that you like :

Things that you don't like :

2.Cathing Fire :

Things that you like :

Things that you don't like :

3.Mockingjay

Movie 1 :

Movie 2 :

Things that you like :

Things that you don't like :

Thank you 😊

@curiousnonny

this is gonna be an insanely long post so i'll put everything under the cut. also just know that the ratio of dislikes vs likes is not a reflection of how i actually feel about each movie, i just tend to pick apart and analyze what doesn't work more than what does.

the hunger games - 3/5

things i like:

casting choices for peeta, cinna, effie, clove, caesar, and president snow. like i think most of the casting was fine but these were perfect.

capitol fashion and interior design

getting to see the gamemakers' end of things

caesar's expanded role as part of the games commentary

things i don't like:

the whitewashing

removing madge, because it removes the mockingjay pin backstory in catching fire. i get that it and she aren't Strictly Necessary but it adds so much to the story, as well as to haymitch's character

that part of the movie where they have that horrible screeching to simulate katniss's hearing loss. it's a legitimate creative choice, but it's so unpleasant as part of the viewing experience.

cutting the dialogue between thresh and clove, and cutting cato being there for clove as she's dying

thresh getting killed by the mutts, and their designs being nothing like the book. why are they bulldogs. the wolves would have hit so much harder

erasing peeta's disability status as an amputee

catching fire - 4.5/5

things i like:

most of the changes made from book to film in this one were ones i agreed with, at least when i saw it the first time. they didn't distract or detract too badly from the narrative they were telling.

jena malone as johanna!!!! and jeffrey wright as beetee

things i don't like:

madge undersee i miss you every day. you didn't teach katniss to play piano and bring gale medicine during a blizzard in vain xo

the fact that they evidently cast annie without being certain that she'd be the same actress they use in the subsequent movies. with all respect to the actress they chose, i don't think she was the right choice for this role

sam claflin was good as finnick but every time i see him i just remember his role in the ableist movie "me before you" and it makes me upset. i hate having to associate one of my favorite characters with that!!!!!

i wish they'd been able to work in haymitch's backstory 💔

i would've liked to see more of katniss's interactions with the other tributes during training, especially the careers. granted, they weren't all that nuanced on the book anyway, but they at least had discernible personalities

the drastic tonal change to johanna's interview was kind of a weird choice. like it's iconic but i don't understand why they made that decision.

mockingjay part 1 - 4/5

things i like:

the action sequences in general

getting to see ordinary people in the districts participating in the revolution

plutarch changing necklace of rope to necklace of hope. like yeah he would fucking do that

the tribute center rescue sequence

things i don't like:

needs more moments where katniss is unstable and clearly mentally unwell. same with finnick

i would've liked to see more of the relationship between katniss and prim in this one. like we get a little (katniss bringing back buttercup) but i don't remember there being anywhere near as much as the book had

making coin sympathetic instead of showing her as the walking red flag of dictatorship that she is, just so they can have her assassination be a surprise in the next movie

lack of nuanced portrayal of the issues inside district 13. most movie-only viewers that i've spoken to, they thought the problem with 13 is that they're "communists" instead of. everything else they actually have going wrong.

i wish we'd gotten a little more of finnick's propo during the rescue

mockingjay part 2 - 2/5

things i like:

tigris 🐯

adaptation of the epilogue

things i don't like:

cutting johanna's role significantly and cutting the military training sequence so katniss can stow away on a jet to the capitol

i'm serious, the first time i tried to watch this movie i had to get up and walk away because katniss hitching a ride to the capitol made me so damn mad. it takes all the collective action from the previous movie and squanders it in favor of an unrealistic, individualist fantasy!!!! this is not my beautiful house this is not my katniss everdeen!!!

the capitol looks like every other generic gray warzone. where are my candy-colored buildings reduced to rubble.

[witchcraftandburialdirt]

2. Is it easier to draw someone facing left or right (or forward even) 8. What's an old project idea that you've lost interest in 12. Easiest part of body to draw 19. Favorite inanimate objects to draw (food, nature, etc.) 24. Do your references include stock images

Weirdly Specific Artist Ask Game

2. Is it easier to draw someone facing left or right (or forward even)

---A majority of my art, I think(?), has someone facing my right their left! I think it has to do with how I perceive space, since I'm English speaking I read left to right and I view right as the "forward" direction, if that makes sense. Left is the backwards or looking behind direction for the most part unless there's character interaction, but even then.

8. What's an old project idea that you've lost interest in

---I was working on an SB Thresh piece around last year but the energy died for it and I never got around to finishing it despite him being one of my favorite league champs AND one of my favorite skins in game. I thought about opening him specifically as a muse but I'm too obsessed with him to do that HRR HRR, I won't lie that he'd have very interesting interactions with Robin and I would feel weird RPing with myself LOL

And just for YOU, I have an ENTIRE board of Yorii expressions from his old design, about 12 wildly changing expressions that show everything from his shock to his blushing face and its a VERY cute project but also OLD and my style has changed so much I'd have to redo the whole thing. I won't post that here though.

12. Easiest part of body to draw

---I love drawing hair and noses, I think they're so fun. Giving Haru a slightly hooked nose was the best thing I've ever done, OH, or maybe drawing mouths. I love love love drawing open mouths which is funny because I hated them before but I guess it changed once my frontal lobe fully developed.

19. Favorite inanimate objects to draw (food, nature, etc.)

---Just because it's you I'll use Yorii art as an example; I have huge brain worms for drawing little accessories. Tiny knives, belts, compasses, swords etc, I love drawing little nick nacks people carry on their person because I think it's extremely telling to who they are as a person. Hence why Robin has a bunch of random shit he's constantly carrying around! Behold see how my hands-on-hips have evolved!!!

24. Do your references include stock images

---Sometimes! Most of the time I find people in similar positions and break their anatomy like a lil doll and then use that as a reference for the sketch beside it. I also take photos of my friends or my hands if I need to have a specific angle or a specific way of doing something. I also have a pinterest boad of about 200+ hand photos.

[snugglyporos]

@piltover-sharpshooter //Damn Poros run on Ork logic. "BIGGER ORK DAH BOSS"

// well you're not ENTIRELY wrong. It's more that imo, the only king poros have as references are Jarvan IV and Tryndamere? Also Trundle.

And you probably COULD convince poros that red things are just faster, but you would have to convince all the poros of this.

Essentially, my canon is that poros create a sort of 'reality paradigm' around themselves; this is much stronger where there are more poros. But by virtue of them being 1/3rd innocence, poros believing something makes it true to some extent.

One poro believing a thing doesn't make it true besides Riceball. A fluft of poros believing something likely makes it sorta true sometimes, usually only around poros.

All the poros believing a thing makes is universally true. There are very few things that all poros believe, obviously. For one, no one would hurt a poro. Thus, no one is trying to hurt a poro. Thus, no one can, because this would require them wanting to hurt a poro, which is impossible. For reference, in League's own canon, they articulated that even when someone tried to eat a poro, having somehow turned it into a steak of some kind, said poro then regenerated inside of them. The poro was fine, but they were very not.

See also: Braum is friend of poros. Present tense. Braum is therefore now an always present being; his title as friend of poros is official. I'm pretty sure that puts him on the same plane as an ascended.

But also, things like darkin hate poros, because poros are immune to their effects. Things like void creatures fear poros, because poros naturally repel void energies. And well, there's a reason why the harrowing doesn't come to the Freljord, because poros are immune to its corruption and possess this power of theirs so strongly it makes Thresh into a kind being.

Thresh, the League universe's greatest sadist... cannot help but be nice to poros. Such is the power of poros all believing a thing.

Luckily, it is very hard to convince poros of many things, as they are innocent sheep puffs.

But if the poros do collectively believe things, I'm not sure Aurelion Sol could oppose that...

[rosaaeles]

let's say you've been put in charge of a new thg adaptation, whether it's a new film series, a miniseries, or a tv show. you get complete creative control. what's one scene you would definitely make sure to include that did not make it into the movies? @anonymousinpanem

if I had complete creative control.... what a dream.

okay so,

id want to include the heavier topics for sure because whilst the movies clearly condemned the games, they never really did so for other things that are condemned in the books such as the treatment of the tribute as sex slaves. it's a great disservice to everything that the books handle and i would hate to make something which glossed over the same problems again. for example, i probably wouldn't use finnick talking about his abuse as the background audio when the d13 soldiers reduce the tributes in MJ. id make it the focal point of a scene so that the audience could focus on it properly.

i'd do age accurate casting so the audience wouldn't be able to miss the fact that the tributes are children. in the movies, most of the unnamed tributes are kids but katniss and peeta and cato should have been too. they're only like 16 in book one and depicting that accurately would have made the story hit home more imo. these are kids that are being made to fight in a death tournament.

i would have a lot more racial diversity in the cast instead of creating a world in which characters of colour exist only to die as martyrs or to further the plot and Katniss’s character development (Rue, Thresh, Cinna, Boggs). idk if this even makes sense, but Panem wouldn't be a world in which white people rebel against the establishment and BIPOC are either killed or depicted as failing in revolt. it wouldn't be post-racial. it would be a diverse country in which anyone can revolt, love, fight, and survive. the movies took away the chance for millions of non-white teenagers to see themselves at the forefront of a revolution, fighting for justice and im going to die mad about it so yep :')

i'd cast actors of colour in the roles of gale, katniss, haymitch and id cast a mixed race actress to play prim too! id dedicate more time to showing how drastically different the merchant class and the seam are instead of portraying d12 as culturally and racially homogenous. (i'd also include madge in it, i cant for the life of me understand why they cut her out)

in regards to the capitol, id paint it as grotesquely as possible; their overconsumption of resources, their facetious treatment of the games and the tributes, their total control over the districts etc etc - id try to denounce the capitol as much as possible in order to highlight its parallels with the global north. i think the movies shied away from things like this and, as a result, created a world which the audience could just view as completely separate rather than making something which clearly mirrors the present day

also! i would include the fact that peeta's leg was amputated below the knee and he has a prosthetic. the way the movies ignored this has always pissed me off and idk why they shied away from it honestly, so yeah i would include that definitely!

im rapidly running out of things to say so I'll end it here, I hope that's okay!

[broken-everlark]

What do you think about Hijacked Peeta storyline in Mockingjay?

Is it satisfied for Peeta's arc?

Thank you,

@curiouspeetamellark

I actually liked and hated the hijacking storyline. For one it gave us some good fanfic😏

On the other it hurt everyone around him to be so torn like that.

I think it was a good storyline because it showed Katniss how easily things she loves can be taken from her. Because she only lost her father and it wasn't even to Snow it was to the mine. Yes, it was traumatic and depressing but it made her stronger and his memory lived on with her and her mother. But other then that she just lost people she knew for a few days/weeks (rue & thresh or people in the street that did the 3 finger tribute)

She felt guilty because Rue was a little girl around Prims age who didn't deserve to be in thg while Thresh saved her life and she couldn't do the same. She felt guilty cause she caused people's deaths but never anyone intensely close to her until Finnick & Prim.

Like yes Katniss has lost people but this truly shows that she actually loved Peeta even though at first it was an act. It shows how much she missed and needed him only to have him return beaten and torn.

Anyways, I feel like Suzanne putting Hijacked Peeta into the storyline helped Katniss see that she truly loved him and it can be taken away so easily. While making people around him, realize the true horrors of what Snow could do to a single person. Especially one as mentally and physically strong as Peeta. Even someone as strong as him, has his doubts and fears and it can be easily used against you. Plus it doesn't help Peeta that she cuddles up near Gale (Yes I'm using the movie I already explained why🤣) and give him the cold shoulder. Because like I explained in my last anon ask, I feel like he's just afraid of her and the fight or flight instinct clicks and he wants to protect himself & others then he slowly comes to realize he's the mutt and someone like Boggs or Gale would put him down.

It helps Peeta's character arc because it shows how mentally strong he is by slowly recovering the hijacking, it shows how hard he fights to get back to the people he cares about even if he was tortured to think the one he most cares about is a mutt. It shows that he isn't weak by any means and that he truly cares for Katniss by fighting something as wrecking as a hijacking.

Because he could've easily given up and reverted into himself. He could've easily just not tried to get better. It isn't hard to give up. Especially since his whole family is dead and that could just add more weight to his shoulders.

Sorry I wrote this when I was half asleep when anon first sent it🤣

[the-faultofdaedalus]

I had a dream that the king and the queen of a small country had a daughter. They needed a son, a first-born son, so in secret, without telling anyone of their child’s gender, they travelled to the nearby woods that were rumoured to house a witch.

They made a deal with that witch. They wanted a son, and they got one. A son, one made out of clay and wood, flexible enough to grow but sturdy enough to withstand its destined path, enchanted to look like a human child. The witch asked for only one thing, and that was for their daughter.

They left the girl readily.

The witch raised her as her own, and called her Thyme. The princess grew up unknowing of her heritage, grew up calling the witch Mama, and the witch did her very best to earn that title.

She was taught magic, and how to forage in the woods, how to build sturdy wooden structures and how to make the most delicious stews. The girl had a good life, and the witch was pleased.

The girl grew into a woman, and learned more and more powerful magics, grew stronger from hauling wood and stones and animals to cook, grew smarter as the witch taught her more.

She learned to deal with the people in the villages nearby, learned how to brew remedies and medicines and how to treat illness and injury, and learned how to tell when someone was lying. 

Every time the pair went into town, the people would remark at just how similar Thyme was to her mother. 

(Thyme does not know who and what she is. She does not know that she was born a princess, that she was sold. She only knows that one night after her mother read her a story about princesses and dragons, her mother had asked her if she ever wanted to be a princess.)

((Thyme only knows that she very quickly answered no. She likes being a witch, thank you very much, she likes the power that comes with it and the way that she can look at things and know their true nature.))

The witch starts preparing the ritual early, starts collecting the necessities in the winter so they can be ready by the fall equinox. Her daughter helps, and does not ask what this is for, just knows that it is important.

The witch looks at Thyme, both their hands raised into the air over a complicated array of plants, tended carefully to grow into a circle, and says, sorry.

Thyme wakes up in a clearing she recognizes well. Her mother is not there. 

The house she had grown up in is a pile of logs on the ground, destroyed and broken and in disarray, and Thyme is afraid. She calls for her mother, once, twice, and then rolls up her sleeves and begins the trek towards town. 

Her home is not here, she has neither her bow nor her knife, and if she means to figure out what happened she needs supplies. People are always in need of a witch, she knows, and her mother taught her long ago the value of a silver tongue. 

Except.

She walks out of the woods, and the town is... different. Smaller. The mill she knew so fondly, that she used to climb in with the other children of the village, isn’t there. 

There’s no indication it was ever there, and all at once, Thyme realizes what the ritual was for. 

It was a time-spell, and now she is in the past. The house is in ruins because her mother has not repaired it yet, the mill is gone because it has not been built yet. 

She is here, because...

She does not know. 

And now, it is up to her to take care of herself.

She learns the date from the villagers, gets herself a room at the inn and a good hot meal in exchange for looking at the innkeeper’s son, who has been wracked with cough for weeks now, apparently. 

His face is one Thyme knows, one that in her days were covered in wrinkles and laugh-lines, and as she goes back out into the woods to collect the herbs she needs to cure the boy, she thinks.

The boy will take the inn over from his father, and he will always welcome Thyme’s mother in with open arms for saving him when he was a child. Either the story had been wrong, or Thyme has already broken things. 

Thyme does not know which one she fears more.

She waits in the village for a full turn of the moon for her mother to come. She knows that this is when she should have come in to town. She knows that she should show up here, any day. 

The boy’s cough gets better and when it’s gone completely Thyme buys herself a knife at the blacksmith’s and returns to the woods, to the clearing she calls home. Hands on her hips, she surveys the once-cottage, and makes a plan. 

The house takes a long time to build. She buys an axe, makes a bow, and sleeps under the stars while the house is very slowly built back up. Walls, roof, floors, and then a fireplace, big and wide enough to fit a cauldron, built from special bluestone she hauls from a nearby hill one lump at a time, all the better to brew inside. 

Mama, she thinks wryly, you better be grateful for this. 

She hunts for herself, mostly, snares rabbits and shoots down deer, strips them of their skin, treats it and leaves the fur out to dry. They’ll be good blankets, a good winter cloak, someday. She knows what plants she can eat, what plants will be good, and she survives. She builds. 

She does not tell the villagers her name, and they know her only as “the witch.” 

Thyme eventually stops waiting for her mother. She watches herself in the mirror, and aches at how much they look the same. How much she’s turning out like her mother. 

She helps the villagers, occasionally travels further to heal illnesses in other villages, but mostly stays to herself, in the woods, collecting books and herbs and the house grows more and more as she remembers it. Her hair, that used to be so dark, raven’s hair, her mother would say, braiding it back for her before she learned to do it herself, gets shot through with white and goes grey. 

There’s wrinkles on her face that didn’t used to be there. 

Thyme stops waiting, and becomes the witch of the these woods.

And then. 

The King and Queen of these lands show up at her door, and they are holding a baby girl. 

Please, they say, We need a son. Give us a son. 

And Thyme, who now has a scar on her cheek from a branch whipping at her too fast to avoid, who knows that her mother had had the same scar, looks at the baby, meets her eyes, and knows that they are her eyes. 

I’ll give you a son, Thyme tells them, as if through a trance, but the cost will be your daughter.

They agree, as she knew they would, and she makes a boy out of clay and wood and she remembers learning how to make constructs like these with her mother, she breaths life into it and sends it off with the King and Queen and she holds their baby in her arms. 

Black hair. Dark eyes. A quiet baby, who looks up at her with a solemness that Thyme’s not entirely sure babies are supposed to have. 

Hello, little one, Thyme says, holds out her finger for the baby to grasp, feels her voice crack down the centre like a burnt-out log when the infant holds her finger in her chubby little hand. 

She’s a princess. This baby is a princess, and this baby is her, and her mother has never existed. She knows all these things now, but the thing that she knows most strongly is that she will protect this child, and not only because this child is her. 

(It is alright to be selfish, Thyme, she remembers her mother telling her, it is alright to take things for yourself. You do not need to give yourself away, remember that.)

She has to build a crib and cradle for the baby, and until it’s finished, until she knows that the birchwood and blanket is as comfortable as it can be, she sleeps with the baby -- with Thyme, her name will be Thyme, and she smiles as she thinks it -- on her chest. 

She goes into the village, walking through the woods as baby Thyme looks at the trees and the plants with wide eyes, brings her to a farmer who has raised three girls, knocks at her door, and says, help me. 

The witch doesn’t know how to care for a child, and she is going to learn. She must learn. 

The farmer helps her gladly, something in her eyes that tells the witch that she misses having children, that however much she loves her girls, grown and adventurous, sun-browned and strong from working the fields with her mother, she misses caring for an infant. 

She learns how to make formula out of goat’s milk, how to burp the baby, how to change and wash her. She learns how to tell why the baby might be crying -- even though baby Thyme rarely cries, prefers to watch the world with her big, dark eyes -- and how to fix what might be wrong. 

She sits with the farmer as Thyme plays with a doll carved from a cow’s bone, and learns how to thresh wheat. 

The farmer never asks where the baby came from, but does remark how alike they look, that Thyme looks just like her mother, and the witch smiles at that. 

Thyme seems to grow quickly, learning to crawl, and then to toddle around while hanging off the furniture, and the witch cries at Thyme’s first, unsteady and unsupported steps, even as she builds high shelves into the rafters of her home so that Thyme won’t end up eating things she shouldn’t.

The witch takes Thyme into the village more and more, first in a bag tucked up close against her chest, and when Thyme grows more, holding her hand as she runs through the woods as fast as her little legs will carry her. Every time Thyme runs off to bring back a flower, the witch feels a surge of fondness she refuses to suppress. 

The mill is built, and the witch watches as Thyme runs off to play with the other village kids, brave and fearless and so, so curious. 

She teaches Thyme her first charm when the girl is eight, and Thyme takes to the craft like she takes to memorizing the names and uses of plants, like she takes to a bow and knife, like she takes to books, exactly as the witch knew she would. 

Sometimes, the witch hates the lie she’s made Thyme into. She agonizes over it, over she should tell the girl her true parentage, should spill this secret like a cut bag of wheat, but--

She does not want Thyme to know that she was traded away so easily. She does not want Thyme to know that to her birth parents, she was worthless. 

She asks, though. Asks, do you want to be like the girls in the books? a princess? and is warmed to the core when Thyme answers no. 

Yes, the witch had known what she had answered. Yes, the witch knows that Thyme loves her life, her studies, the woods, her home. 

(Yes, the witch knows that Thyme loves her mother, because the witch loved her mother. She knows this, and still, she asks.)

The witch teaches Thyme how to make constructs, how to animate them, is proud beyond words when on her fifth try, casting over a wood skeleton covered in clay, the shape of a rabbit, the thing shivers to life, and hops over to push it’s nose into Thyme’s outstreached hands, the girl beaming so brightly that the witch thinks the woods might be glowing with it. The rabbit-construct is lumpy, and uneven, it’s movements slow and unnatural, and she has not yet taught Thyme how to cast the illusion spell onto it that will make it look real, and alive, but Thyme looks so happy that the witch nearly, nearly, forgets her guilt at the purpose of this spell.

Thyme grows, first into a teen, skinny and narrow from how she had shot taller like a willow tree, bony and sharp and lean, and into a woman, growing broad from good food and hard work, takes to hiking into the woods for days at a time with only her knife and her bow and a pouch of herbs, returns home with wild hair the witch combs out for her as Thyme tells her of her adventures.

It matters not that the witch knows all of these stories, knows them because she lived them herself, when she was a girl. She listens to her daughter, dragging the comb through her tangled hair, asks about the falls she found, the cliffs, the animals, the herbs, makes sure that Thyme knows that she will be listened to, that she deserves to be listened to. She listens, because she knows that no matter how much Thyme loves going on these adventures, she also loves coming home, and sharing in these simple, cozy moments.

Winter comes. With the cold comes a grief, a guilt, that weighs heavy on the witch’s heart. She begins preparing for the ritual, for the time-spell that will send her daughter backwards and into loneliness and into the position to save herself from what her true parents would force her to become, backwards to learn the truth, backwards to become her.

She knows why she must do this. She has scryed on her construct, the prince, the soon-to-be-king, every moon since she sent him away and took herself in his place. She sees what he has grown into, she sees what the power has done to him, she sees and she knows that she and her daughter would have suffered greatly in that role. She sees him make hard choices.

She sees him go to war.

She sees the illusion she cast over branch and clay bleed. She sees him, bandages around his torso, arm hanging awkwardly by his side, leave the castle, and wade into the lake outside of it’s walls. She sees the clay in the lakebed melt towards him, heal the wounds, make him fit to wield a sword the very next day.

She does not want that. She does not want that for her daughter.

It is alright to be selfish, Thyme, she remembers her mother saying to her, remembers saying to her Thyme, bleeding for others is a gift. It is valued, but it is up to you to give it.

Spring comes. Reedy plants are tended into a circle. Summer comes. Fires are burned over the dirt, ash mixed with soil. Fall comes. The heart of a boar is buried under the circle, placed to rest with gentle words. The witch and her daughter, Thyme and Thyme, stand together, hands raised, looking at each other.

The witch whispers, I’m sorry.

And her daughter disappears.

[hook-and-chains]

Hello all you loyal souls!

I want to make an announcement about this blog as it's been what... 7 years since this blog was made? What an accomplishment in my eyes!

Though I know I haven't been around as much as I used to and having a full time job is definitely to blame for the lack of writing and lack of muse. This doesn't mean I don't have a passion yet to continue on with this blog.

Though, this is an intro to the changes that I will be making to this blog. Which, I have been thinking on for quite a while. So bear with me!

First off, I have appreciated every single person that has come my way over the years. There is a bit of guilt in me that I can't or couldn't get to every single person but... I appreciate every single one of you for your interest and also for my regular RP partners for dealing with my on and off absence.

However, there will be a major change to this blog! 

I am no longer going to be Multi-Shipped. 

This has been a hard thing to come to terms with as I wished to make as many people as I could happy. I realized that this was something that really bogged down my writing and portrayal of Thresh. Plus, with the fact that I was sought out to ship for either to have smut be attached to it or be apart of a collection of muses to be shipped with. I had hoped I would also make an impact on the ones I shipped with... to no avail. It always seemed I was pushing for something that wasn't there or what the other person would want. Either the muse would leave or wouldn't be willing to see or let Thresh be who he truly is or to advance their story with him. I appreciate everyone that I had a pleasure to ship with, do not get me wrong! This is also a big reason why I fell off for a while considering I felt I had to please others instead of what is important... and that is being genuine with myself and doing what I want with this blog. Of course, I want to make people happy by roleplaying with them which is the most important thing of doing this!

I will becoming Single Ship from this day on. Though, not to another RPer, but for the story I wish to tell. I have wanted to share the story of Supia on this blog for a very long time... and you will learn of her in due time. This is something I hope people will be interested in but it won't be forced constantly but expect Thresh to interact with Supia every so often or in some RPs being mentioned.

I understand if not everyone will receive this positively and I am truly sorry for it but, I hope you will understand that Thresh will still be my main focus for this blog.

I will make this 100% clear for those that wish to RP with Thresh here on... Thresh is a VILLAIN and WILL act like one. He will be cruel, he will be an asshole and he WILL NOT hold back his torturous urges. If you cannot handle this and he happens to hurt your muse... I am NOT doing this to be mean or that I hate you. I want to do my best job to portray him as he would be portrayed. For those he 'cares' for... he has his own agenda and that is of his own accord to act if he does like your muse or not.

I also will be reworking the blog some meaning the layout and the rules! Stay tuned!

Thank you for sticking with Thresh for as long as you have! You make it worthwhile, truly.

Let us mark a new chapter...

[theartofdreaming1]

Slightly paraphrased, but Peeta talking about that moment he developed his crush on Katniss is just too sweet 😊

As usual, my thoughts regarding this week’s prompts and random thoughts on chapters 22-24 are below the cut (sprinkled in some psychology thoughts again).

heart

Honestly, I think the people in Panem would perceive the whole everlark storyline the same way we perceive and react to our ships on tv (desperately wanting to reach through the screen, shoving the characters forcefully together, screaming “And now, kiss!”); especially the Capitolites who barely recognize the tributes (or people in the districts, in general) as people. The people in the districts would definitely view the whole thing more under a “reality tv” kind of lens, questioning how much of the relationship is real or not (we know that Finnick certainly thought that the entire thing was just a spiel, until Peeta hit that forcefield). The time spent in the cave must have been pretty convincing, though.

mind

I think that Katniss is still torn here - On the one hand, she kind of wants to believe that Peeta is actually into her (remember the happiness she felt when Peeta told her how his crush on her began, and it all added up and seemed so real), but on the other hand she’s terrified of that possibility because A) lingering trauma from her mom’s depression in response the Mr. Everdeen’s death, B) Katniss never even considered falling in love, so that’s a sudden unexpected thing to deal with, and C) maybe it’s just for the sake of the Games; and wouldn’t that hurt, getting your hopes up only to learn it was only for show? (How about we ask Peeta about that?)

soul

Yeah, that quote about Peeta only eating stale bread also struck me as quite sad. It just further adds to his understanding how there should be more to life than just survival, though. (One day, I’ll make that post about Peeta, Katniss, and Maslow’s pyramid of needs, I swear! I’ve already gathered some research material)

Chapter 22

My mother’s hand strokes my cheek and I don’t push it away as I would in wakefulness, never wanting her to know how much I crave that gentle touch. How much I miss her even though I still don’t trust her. - Ugh, I can’t... Katniss misses her mom, misses being cared for😢 I’m so glad we’re going to see her patch up her relationship with her mom in CF... On a different note, Katniss craving that gentle touch just perfectly illustrates why she’s so drawn to Peeta, who is generally such a gentle soul (I mean, he’s literally the person stroking her cheek here 😊)

He [Peeta] doesn’t seem angry about my tricking him, drugging him, and running off to the feast. Maybe I’m just too beat-up and I’ll hear about it later when I’m stronger. But for the moment, he’s all gentleness. - As I was saying... 😉

“I’ll go hunting soon,” I say. “Not too soon, all right?” he says. “You just let me take care of you for a while.” - I love them so much😊🥰 And then Peeta makes sure she’s well-fed and hydrated, he rubs her cold feet and tucks her into the sleeping back... and she let’s him! 💗

“He [Thresh] let you go because he didn’t want to owe you anything?” asks Peeta in disbelief. “Yes. I don’t expect you to understand it. You’ve always had enough. But if you’d lived in the Seam, I wouldn’t have to explain,” I say. “And don’t try. Obviously I’m too dim to get it,” he says. - Oof. This exchange here is interesting in many ways: 1) it highlights their different experiences, tied to their different socioeconomic backgrounds, basically, and 2)  that Katniss is very much aware of this difference, but we also see hints of her own ignorance here - because Peeta didn’t have to starve in his childhood, she thinks that he can’t possibly understand this level of hardship; but there are other ways in which one can suffer/lack fundamental needs, which brings us to 3) Peeta’s response about being “obviously too dim to get it”; I think this is a clue to his mom being also verbally abusive towards him: she called him “stupid creature” when he burnt those loaves of bread for Katniss and when he’s losing it in the attic of the Justice Building in D11 in CF he is mad that Katniss and Haymitch keep things from him “like [he’s] too inconsequential or stupid or weak to handle them”, which - to me - sounds like he’s tired of being treated that way (i.e. the way his mother treats him)

“I want to go home, Peeta,” I say plaintively, like a a small child. - God, this is a teenager in a murder-arena who feels like wanting to go home is a childish notion instead of a totally legitimate wish for anyone in that situation, regardless of age 😢

It’s not that Peeta’s soft exactly, and he’s proved he’s not a coward. But there are things you don’t question too much, I guess, when your home always smells like baking bread, whereas Gale questions everything. What would Peeta think of the irreverent banter that passes between us as we break the law each day? Would it shock him? The things we say about Panem? Gale’s tirades against the Capitol? - Geez, Katniss, give Peeta some credit here! A) It’s not like Peeta can walk around District 12 talking publicly about the injustices happening there - she and Peeta hadn’t even talked with each other before the reaping, whereas Gale is her best friend who rants to her while they are outside the confines of D12 and B) Peeta is literally the one who introduced the whole “not a piece in their Games”-idea to her; why would he be clutching his pearls over Katniss and Gale’s irreverent banter?! Just because Peeta didn’t live on the brink of starvation (she again brings up how his house smells like bread and - at this point - still thinks that the family running the bakery actually gets to eat what they produce just like that), doesn’t mean he doesn’t see how shitty life in D12 is - he can still want better conditions for those who are worse off than him!

“I did do the right thing,” I say. “No! Just don’t, Katniss!” His grip tightens, hurting my hand, and there’s real anger in his voice. “Don’t die for me. You won’t be doing me any favors. All right?” - Well, we’ll see this song and dance again in CF...

And while I was talking, the idea of actually losing Peeta hit me again and I realized how much I don’t want him to die. [...] And it’s not about what will happen back home. And it’s not just that I don’t want to be alone. It’s him. I do not want to lose the boy with the bread.” - I wish CF Katniss would remember this moment when she is questioning her motives about saving Peeta’s life in the arena - You. Care. For. This. Boy! You. Value. Him. For. Who. He. Is!!!

This is the first kiss that we’re both fully aware of. [...] This is the first kiss where I actually feel stirring inside my chest. Warm and curious. This is the first kiss that makes me want another. - Whoo! Is it hot in here or is it just me? 😉

I’m struck by his immediacy now. As we settle in, he pulls my head down to use his arm as a pillow; the other rests protectively over me even when he goes to sleep. No one has held me like this in such a long time. Since my father died and I stopped trusting my mother, no one else’s arms have made me feel this safe. - He makes her feel safe in a murder-arena!!! 😭 This is the kind of stuff that makes everlark just a top tier romance, tbh

Peeta telling Katniss about his crush starting on their first day of school 🥰😭 - and her reaction to it... For a moment, I’m almost foolishly happy - yes, because you have a crush on him, too! - and then confusion sweeps over me. Because we’re supposed to be making up this stuff [...] So, if those details are true... could it all be true? - YESSSSSSSS!!!

“You have a... remarkable memory, “ I say haltingly. - as a severely socially awkward person... I felt that lame response in my bones 😅

“You don’t have much competition anywhere.” And this time, it’s me who leans in. - God, this would be such an amazing moment if it didn’t get tainted by that immediate sponsor gift, which just serves to muddle Katniss’s feelings with her sense of survival, further complicating her relationship with Peeta... *sigh* 

Chapter 23

“What was that you were saying just before the food arrived? Something about me... no competition... best thing that ever happened to you...” “I don’t remember that last part,” I say, hoping it’s too dim in here for the cameras to pick up my blush. “Oh, that’s right. That’s what I was thinking,” he says. - Peeta is the master of being a cheeky little shit and adorable flirt at the same time

“So, since we were five, you never even noticed any other girls?” I ask him. “No, I noticed just about every girl, but none of them made a lasting impression but you,” he says. - I appreciate that while Peeta has had a crush on Katniss forever, he clearly didn’t spend the entire time pining after her, oblivious to the rest of the world - he has a life outside of Katniss Everdeen, but ultimately, it all lead back to her

A disturbing thought hits me. “But then, our only neighbor will be Haymitch!” “Ah, that’ll be nice,” says Peeta, tightening his arms around me. “You and me and Haymitch. Very cozy. Picnics, birthdays, long winter nights around the fire retelling old Hunger Games tales.” “I told you, he hates me!” I say, but I can’t help laughing at the image of Haymitch becoming my new pal. - Laugh all you want, this is going to end up being your future anyway 😄

He [Haymitch]’s at something of a disadvantage because most mentors have a partner, another victor to help them whereas Haymitch has to bready to go into action at any moment. Kind of like me when I was alone in the arena. I wonder how he’s holding up, with the drinking, the attention, and the stress of tring to keep us alive. - Katniss is already worrying about her “new pal”, I see ;)

Maybe he [Haymitch] wasn’t always a drunk. Maybe, in the beginning, he tried to help the tributes. But then it got unbearable. It must be hell to mentor two kids and then watch them die. - Honestly, that sounds absolutely awful...

Poor, Katniss, when she learns of Thresh’s death :( - But no one will understand my sorrow at Thresh’s murder. - It’s horrible how compassion and basic human decency gets construed as ‘weakness’ in the world of Hunger Games (esp. the Capitol)

Then I escape into sleep, comforted by a full belly and the steady warmth of Peeta beside me. - Honestly, I think a word analysis of THG-series could be interesting; how often does Katniss mention “warmth”, “steady/steadiness” “safe/safety/security” in connection with “Peeta”?

“We make a goat cheese and apple tart at the bakery,” he says. “Bet that’s expensive,” I say. “Too expensive for my family to eat. Unless it’s gone very stale. Of course, practically everything we eat is stale,” says Peeta [...] Huh. I always assumed the shopkeepers live a soft life. And it’s true, Peeta has always had enough to eat. But there’s something kind of depressing about living your life on stale bread - Katniss is starting to realize that the lives of the merchants isn’t a cushy as she thought; also, in a way, we see a “prettier” version of how Panem treats the districts overall -> feeding the districts just enough that they can do their work (plus/minus a couple of people who’ll die of starvation, but at a small, for Capitolites insignificant margin), but not so much that they are in good shape to rebel; here, the merchants of D12 have just enough that they can live a “decent” life (they know it could be worse -> the Seam), but they don’t have enough to live a free, comfortable, self-determined life either. This also just further drives a wedge between the inhabitants of D12 (the merchants won’t want to rebel because they don’t want to get ‘demoted’ in their lifestyle, starving like the people from the Seam, and the Seam folk feel resentful towards the merchant people, while also not having the resources to rebel, due to their awful socioeconomic conditions)

What would be my life like on a daily basis? Most of it has been consumed with the acquisition of food. Take that away and I’m not really sure who I am, what my identity is. - It’s so sad who Katniss has been so consumed with ensuring that her most base needs are fulfilled that she barely has had the time to really figure out who she is and what she wants from life (If we’re talking Maslow’s pyramid of needs, Katniss would primarily be stuck on the lowest tier 😢)

At least, we’ll be friends, I think. Nothing will change the fact that we’ve saved each other’s lives in here. And beyond that, he will always be the boy with the bread. Good friends. - Honestly, Katniss counting on being good friends with Peeta after the Games is the highest honor she can bestow on him at that moment (she’s so into him, lol); of course, knowing that their relationship is going to be a bit rocky once they’ve come back makes this thought a little sad... but we also know they’ll make up (and out ;) in the future

Peeta licking his plate and blowing a kiss out to Effie is such an adorable goofball-moment 😊

I cover his mouth with my hand, but I’m laughing. “Stop! Cato could be right outside our cave.” He grabs my hand away. “What do I care? I’ve got you to protect me now,” says Peeta, pulling me to him. - This moment would be so cute (also, Peeta’s so confident in Katniss’s skills to protect him, which is adorable - toxic masculinity who?) but... Ugh, he’s just so giddy here, it kind of breaks my heart for when he learns later that (at least some) of Katniss’s reactions were just for show

“If we want food, we better head back up to my old hunting grounds,” I say. “Your call, Just tell me what you need me to do,” Peeta says. - Love how Peeta’s always ready to follow Katniss’s lead :)

Ideally, I’d dump Peeta now with some simple root-gathering chore and go hunt [...] “Katniss,” he says. “We need to split up. I know I’m chasing away the game.” [...] “Show me some plants to gather and that way we’ll both be useful.” - Teamwork! If it weren’t for Katniss worrying for Peeta’s safety, they’d be on the same page here

“What if you climbed up in a tree and acted as a lookout while I haunted?” I say, trying to make it sound like very important work. “What if you show me what’s edible around here and go get us some meat?” he says, mimicking my tone. - I really like how Peeta’s challenges Katniss here; he doesn’t just go along with everything she says, while still being quite reasonable

I feel like I’m eleven, again, tethered not to the safety of the fence but to Peeta, allowing myself twenty, maybe thirty yards of hunting space. [...] I allow myself to drift farther away, and soon have two rabbits and a fat squirrel to show for it. - I don’t know, but Katniss feeling tethered to Peeta makes me think of Mary Ainsworth’s attachment theory, according to which children with a secure attachment to their primary caregiver use  their “attachment figure as a safe base to explore the environment”... Of course, Ainsworth’s Strange Situation was conducted with young children, but attachment styles are supposed to influence the relationships we form with people in our later lives as well (including romantic relationships)... I dunno, just a random association that popped into my brain 😅

Chapter 24

Peeta’s a whiz with fires, coaxing a blaze out of the damp wood. - Heh, Peeta sure knows how to handle fire, huh, Katniss (or should I say: Girl on Fire?) 😏

I order him into the sleeping bag and set aside the rest of his food for him when he wakes. He drops off immediately. I pull the sleeping bag up to his chin and kiss his forehead, not for the audience, but for me. Because I’m so greateful that he’s still here, not dead by the stream as I’d thought.  - Aww, this is so sweet (and domestic)!

It’s funny. I feel almost as if it’s the first day of the Games again. That I’m in the same position. [...] But no, there’s the boy waiting beside me. I feel his arms wrap around me. - They are a team! Katniss doesn’t have to face the horrors of the Games alone anymore! It keeps boiling down to this.

[talesofphantombandits]

Zero to Six ~ I’ll Fight to be Apart of this Family - Edited Version. Part 5.

Characters: Four X Zero (OC)

Summary: Zero was the first person to be ‘saved’ by One, she was his first honorary Ghost. Her knowledge in tech meant she got the role of ‘Hacker’ she recruited new team members, looked for missions and locations and made sure every security measure was looked at. You know normal hacker spy stuff. But her tough up bringing meant that if needs be she could fight, she was maybe even better than some people on the team knew. But due to One’s protectiveness over her she had to stay hidden, she was more of an actual ghost than the rest of the team was. This didn’t mean she couldn’t have her fun though, over the months of being with the full team she had formed quite a passionate love/ hate relationship with the handsome Four. Who knows what sparks would fly if they were ever to meet. Warnings: Slight swearing, some suggestive flirting in later chapters.

Tagg list: (I know this is a edit of my original story but if anyone wants to be tagged let me know.) @raylan-c​, @angelic-demonss 

“Are we just not going to discuss the stranger in the room? why is the bartender here?” Four smirked at Zero. She in turn just raised her eyebrow at the blonde haired beauty, daring him to continue. “And why is Five giving her first aid?” 

The room went silent, everyone was looking at Zero like she was the enemy, and in a way she was. This group of people were the closest thing she had to family and yet she was an impostor, an outsider who’s voice was the only thing the team had ever heard that’s the only thing they knew her by. She hoped One would forgive her for what she was about to do.

Zero coughed away any last nervous about coming clean. "You know for what you guys do, you are all so dumb sometimes."

Zero in return heard a hiss, her head snapped to the direction it came from. She was faced with One, his face and neck had gone completely red with how angry he was.  A look that told Zero to shut her gob if she knew what was good for her. 

"What?!" Was she really that surprised? It was One after all, did she really think he’d just let her spill the beans right here, right now when he’d kept her away for so many years. 

"She, she just stumbled in here after the bar fight, and the doctor couldn't resist helping her." Zero looked from One appalled, to Five who was just as taken a back as Zero was. Her eyebrows furrowed as she gave a concerning look between the both of them. 

Zero couldn't help but clock onto the suspicious glare that Two was giving her. She definitely knew the truth, she was an incredibly smart woman and Zero wouldn’t be shocked if she didn’t know the moment she walked into the room. She looked back to One who she could tell was getting more and more worried over the glances everyone in the room was giving Zero.

"Your name was Lilly right?" One asked marching up to Zero and grabbing her hand, but Zero shrugged it off "Come on I'll take you home."

Everyone was looking at One like he'd lost his mind, the team was supposed to be a secret so why would he offer to take a stranger home? The air was so thick in the kitchen that even a knife wouldn’t cut it.  To make matters worse Four was starring Zero down with such ferocity she thought those ocean blue eyes she’d only seen in photo’s would melt her to the ground. She just raised her eyebrows at the man again, more threatening this time. Zero was brought back by the tug on her arm, she hissed back at One but jumped down off the counter anyway. As she slowly made her way pasted Five she quietly thanked her for being there to help her as best she could for the night. 

“Who is she One?” Three pressed on, One looked like he would explode any moment, the man who never seemed to make such stupid mistakes had nearly revealed one of his biggest secrets. “No one, she’s no one. Just a normal bartender.” Zero stopped abruptly which also dragged One to a stop as his hand was still around her arm.  When he whipped around she took the opportunity to strike the man straight across his dumb face. 

One looked at her shocked, she herself was in shock at what she had just done. Had she actually just assaulted him? The man that had saved her life all those years ago, gave her food and shelter, she owed him everything and she had just straight up assaulted him. She looked at her hand that now slightly stung in shock, as did everyone else in the room.  One’s shock only lasted a couple of seconds before his face turned stony cold and once again he latched onto Zero’s arm and headed towards the door. 

After everything that just happened Zero couldn’t help but still be memorised as she approached Four, he was breath taking, a beautiful sight to look at. It was almost like looking into the blinding sun that eventually you had to tear your sight away from, in case of damage to the eyes.

She felt a wave of sadness overcome her suddenly, she had been so close to Four actually knowing who she was, she’d been close to the whole team knowing it was her. God even one normal conversation with him probably wouldn't have satisfied her enough but it would have been a start at least. Yet One just had to take even that away from her, while she was grateful for everything One had done for her, he was still in turn hurting her.  What she really needed was a real family and she had found that in these guys but One was always in the way.  If her only way was to fight to be apart of this family, then so be it.

"Hurry up" One snapped out angrily, there was definitely going to be consequences for hitting him and she knew it. But she was done being alone.

Zero looked back at Five who was still in shock and what looked like awe, she seemed to blink back to a little normality when she caught Zeros eye again. She gave Zero a ‘You’ll be okay’ look and a little nod, Zero was happy to know that she at least had Five to rant to afterwards when everything with One had settled. 

As Zero got closer and closer to the little blonde shit leaning on the door frame she swore she could see him smirking at her, she had to also fight the urge to slap him into next week as well, he’d just seen it first hand so he should be scared. But as she crossed the thresh hold of the hotel kitchen his hand that was hanging by his side brushed against hers and it felt like lightning shooting up her arm, across her shoulder and up the side of her neck.  She tried not to show the shiver it sent down her spine but the urge was taking over her. She met his eyes again and to her surprise she saw the same reaction but he quickly hid it.  A sudden desired to leave struck her so she decided to just keep walking after One, who had steamed ahead of her.

Once outside she felt like the mist in her mind had cleared a little, but as soon as she saw One angrily waiting beside his car she suddenly felt all the anger rush back. "What the actual fuck One?!" She screamed marching her way to the passenger door.

He opened up his side of the car. "Shut up and get in the car." He said calmly which scared her more than if he had shouted it at her, he got in the drivers seat but slammed the door shut which made her jump in turn. Zero just huffed, not wanting to get in more trouble than she was already in.

"Where are you taking me?" She sighed defeated.

"Home." He said shortly.

"Why?, why did you do that?"

"Do what? A better question is why did you hit me?!" He didn't look at her but she could tell with every word he spoke he was getting more angry.

"Okay in my defence, you were being a dick! you make me think I was finally becoming apart of the team, which then you revealed was just a ‘mistake’ I think you’d also feel like punching someone if you thought you were finally getting the family you deserved just to have them ripped away from you in the same moment!" I tried so hard to not to scream my lungs out at him but the more I spoke the harder it got.

"You knew that they weren't suppose to meet you! Why are you suddenly surprised. I told you when we first made the team that this was how it was going to be and you agreed!" One spat back.

"I did agree! but I was still in a bad place at that time and I wasn’t looking for friends let alone a whole family, I didn’t know that I was actually going to find a sense of security in these group of strangers did I!” The tears started to stream down Zeros face, she could taste the saltiness of her tears with every drop. “I want to go back! I want to complete the rest of the mission, I’ve come this far there is no way I’m bailing out now, just to go sit in that apartment manning the coms by myself for the rest of eternity." 

"No." He deadpanned, which made Zero even more angry. Had he not listened to anything she had just said to him? Did he not see just how much this mattered to her.

"One I’m not afraid to knock you out and drive there myself, I think I just proved that back in the kitchen." He just raised his eyebrows at her, like it was a challenge. "Come on One! why are you doing this to me? Why are you keeping me hidden? What do you gain from it."

"Because your job is best done in a flat somewhere, anywhere. Where no one can trace you."

"Bullshit!" Zero screamed which made One forcefully pulled the car over to the side of the road, the suddenness of the stop made her surge forward a little but luckily her seat belt prevented her from travelling any further forward.

"Please just tell me the truth." She said quietly, by this point she was drained physically and emotionally. "Why do you keep me away? and I don't want any of your bullshit. You and I both know I can do my work in any environment."

"I just want to keep you safe." One kept his focus straight ahead, staring out of the windscreen into the darkness.

"What do you mean? Since when have you ever cared about anyone's safety on this team?" I asked confused.

One had few rules, but one of the main rules that One lived by was if anyone gets stuck on a mission they are to be left behind. The team can never be exposed, so if one of them gets left behind because of capture or injury then it's just the price the team has to unfortunately pay.

"You were the first person I found." He slowly turned his head to look at Zero, this was the first piece of real emotion she’d ever seen from the man. She just looked at him confused and rightly so. 

"Why does it matter who came first? I thought you weren't meant to care about any of us?"

"I’m not." He shrugged now trying to seem like he wasn’t intrested in the conversation anymore, hoping she’d drop the subject. "But you were the first member of the team, You were in a very bad situation when I found you. I do actually have human feelings you know and I guess, In a way I grew fond of you."

Zero didn’t know what to feel, was she actually touched by this? She’d known One for a few years now and this was the most emotion she’d ever seen the man show, although she did think of him as closed off and cold he’d still saved her so in some way she rested him. "So why keep me away?"

"I didn't want you to ever get hurt, It would hurt too much to leave you behind if you got stuck. But it's a price i'd have to pay."

"Then don't, what you’re saying is that deep down, somewhere in that cold heart of yours you do actually care for this team you’ve created. So change the rule. We all need to be there for each other, especially now." I said reaching out to him.

"You know I can't do that. The mission comes first." His voice grew cold again and she knew she’d never see his vulnerable side again, shrugging off her hand he turned away to stare back out into the darkness.

"Then at least take me back to the team. I can work at the base, I don't want to be alone anymore One." He looked at her dead in the eye. "I’m starting to go stark raving mad staying in those apartments by myself not seeing anyone for years on end takes a toll on a person."

"You're hurting me more by keeping me away from them."

They both sat there for a moment in silence as Zero watched the cogs in One’s head turn, she thought if she pushed enough maybe, just maybe she’d get her way for once.

"Fine.” Did he just agree? “But I’m warning you now, if you get left behind on a mission, or injured I’m not coming back for you." He started up the car again, eerily calm It always annoyed her to no end that she could never figure this man out.

"I've known that since day one." He didn’t say another word as he turned the car around and sped off.

When they reached the base she was shocked to see just how many old and broken down planes One had collected over the years. "You’re still collecting them I see"

"Even got one or two that actually work." He mused.

It may have seem like a childish thought given the circumstances but Zero honestly couldn’t wait to explore every single aircraft in the graveyard. One had made it up the long dirt road by the time Zero came back to her senses, the car stopped and she could see a big crate in front of her and standing outside the only door was a great big dog. 

"Hey boy it's fine, she's with me." The dog then ran to One’s side and he started to pet him affectionately.

I just scoffed, raising my eyebrows at him. “What?” 

“So the dog gets your affection but we don’t?” Zero grabbed her chest, gasping pretending he’d hurt her heart but One just rolled his eyes at her and told her to stop being so dramatic. He then guided her up to an aeroplane that had a cartoon of a ghost with three lightning bolts shooting out of its hand near the entrance.

Zero laughed to herself. "I like that!" Pointing to the symbol.

"It’s in honour of you and your spooky shit." She looked at him shocked. “Don’t say I never do anything for you.”

She let him walk ahead of her so she could get her bearings, what came next was going to be a big shock to her system.

"One, you're back! I’m going to need you to spill, who was the bartender? Come on you’re never nice to anyone! Let alone giving a stranger a ride home." As soon as Zero heard that annoyingly sexy British accent she stopped dead in her tracks.

"I'll let her tell you herself."

Then there was silence. It finally hit her that she was about to meet the only family she’d ever known.

She was mostly scared because all she wanted was for them to like her, which she knew they already did but now, seeing and being with them in the flesh she didn’t want to mess their connection up. Especially with Four. She couldn’t deny that her and Fours connection even just through coms was a strong one, she just didn’t know what that connection meant yet but she was definitely excited to find out, she just hoped her feelings for him aren’t one sided.

She took a deep breath to calm herself, then rounded the corner.

"Hey guys." She smiled at all their awestruck faces, she gave a little awkward waving but internally scolded herself afterwards.

Everyone but Two looked at her in shock, she just had to laugh, that woman was too smart for her own good.  "Well darling, the anticipation is killing us." Fours dark eyes were trained on Zero as he leaned on the table, she swore in that moment her legs turned to jelly.

"Well if you'd actually let me speak you'd find out sooner, wouldn’t you monkey boy." Her words seemed to snap something in him as he shot straight.

Everyone else just laughed as the realisation of who they were meeting struck them. She just smirked at them all, finally she could be in on jokes, eat with them and just get to be around the people she cares about most in this cruel world.

"Zero?!" Three said enthusiastically, bounding towards her and scooping her up into a bear hug.

She felt like all the air was being squeezed out of her but she didn’t mind one bit. "Glad to see there are actually some smart people around here.” She chocked out. 

“Three can you please release Zero, you’re literally suffocating our only hacker.” One said annoyed while he was fiddling with some magnets. 

Three let her down and she just smiled, patting him on the shoulder to let him know she was okay. "Sorry! Sorry, I’m just so excited to finally meet you mami!" He proceeded to kiss both of her cheeks.

She just laughed at how adorable he acted in person, Three had always been one of her favourite ghosts. He wasn’t the smartest and most of the time made the worst decisions but he was sweet and funny and wouldn’t waste a single second if you were in trouble, he’d be by your side. 

"Well dam." Four was leaning with his back against the table, arms crossed and staring Zero down. Her eyes travelled to his and she couldn’t bring herself to look away.

Someone in the room, Zero couldn’t tell who coughed awkwardly which snapped both Zero and Four out of their intense staring competition. 

“So, the new mission?” 

[hxt1b]

This Time

Sungchan x Reader brief Chenle x Reader 

Requested Prompt 17 Drunken Mistakes 

Genre: Angsty fluff (I think), College AU 

Warning: Swearing 

WC: 1.8k

Masterlist 

A/N: I hope you guys like this. Please excuse the grammatical errors, I read it over but I still may have missed some things. 

You'd only ever felt true regret a couple of times in your life. The first was letting your mom convince you into wearing a bright pink dress at your tenth birthday party. The second time was senior year of high school when you'd opened your stupid mouth to tell your best friend you liked him. Sungchan had stared at you for a couple of seconds before laughing, 'good joke.' He'd said and you'd laughed along with him after that. Internally feeling like you were dying as heat flooded your face. You definitely regretted that more than the pink dress. 

Yet you did your best to move past that, it took you an insanely long time but you did it, or at least you were working on it. This time you thought it might finally work. 

So here you were walking into a party, your hand tucked into your boyfriend, Chenle's, starting off your second year of university.

Sungchan trailed behind you both, he'd been in a weird mood since you introduced him to your boyfriend, but to be honest, you expected it, he never liked it when you talked to guys giving off this unnecessarily protective energy. So this time you just made sure you informed your boyfriend before you let him meet your best friend. 

Nonetheless, when the first interaction took place it was still deathly awkward. 

You were repeatedly wiping your hands on your pants as you waited for Chenle to buzz the apartment so you could let him in. Sungchan was sitting on your couch glaring at his phone as you both waited. 

"He's late," Sungchan said not looking up from his phone, obviously annoyed. You sighed grabbing your phone and checking the time. He wasn't late, it was just a minute past the time he said he'd be there. 

Not even a second later the buzzer went off forcing you to spring into action and get let him in. 

"Sorry, I'm late," Chenle said once he got to your door, a huge bouquet in his hands. 

Sungchan scoffed from his spot as he got up. 

"She doesn't like flowers." He said walking towards the door. Your boyfriend frowned, before looking down at you. You opened your mouth to object but Chenle spoke before you could. 

"That's fine because they're for you." He shoved the bouquet past you and into Sungchan's chest as your best friend stopped behind you. You giggled quietly as Sungchan scowled. 

It had been a month since then and they still didn't get along. But your boyfriend didn't scare off because of Sungchan. 

—

Sungchan hated his life. Why? Because it was a huge cosmic joke. The girl he was head over heels for liked him, well she liked him back in high school and he fucked it up. How? By being a dumb idiot that couldn't sort out his feelings to save his life. Now he was stuck in a constant state of peril as the girl of his dreams brought guy after guy. Selfishly he had managed to scare all of them off. Except for this motherfucker. 

You got up to go to the bathroom, Sungchan glared at the flowers on the counter behind your new boyfriend's head. His head was swimming with ways to get this idiot out of his way too. 

Sungchan didn't understand why he did it, not really, because he didn't know how to actually confess to you. But he couldn't watch you date other people. He realized he was being a selfish dick, but he didn't know how to stop. 

"I understand you." The boy said pulling Sungchan from his thoughts. Sungchan frowned at him, confused as to what he was getting at. 

"You want her for yourself. She told me how you're protective. Somehow you managed to drive off all the other idiots. They didn't deserve her anyway." The boy stared at Sungchan meeting his growing scowl with a smile. "I on the other hand like her a lot, and I'll be damned if I let you win this just so you can sit on your ass and do nothing." 

Sungchan hated him, he hated him with every fibre in his body because that night he was right. To this day he was right. Somehow he did everything right, he listened to you, said the right things, showed you his feelings. Sungchan should be happy for you, glad that you finally had a great guy one that even Sungchan could see was great for you. A guy that Sungchan could not be like no matter how much he wanted to be like him. 

So dragging his feet he trailed after the two of you. He decided that once he walked into the doors of that party, he would let go of his foolish desire. His pinning had to end, he had to let you be happy and move on. He had to for your sake, and his because he couldn't live like this. He shouldn't live like this. And so once he passed the thresh hold, he somehow got a hold of a bottle of Bombay Gin and that was the beginning of what he'd like to call the end. 

Except that it wasn't the end. 

— 

You realized that Sungchan was drunk when he started to slur his words and his cheeks took on a red hue. You realized that Sungchan was way too drunk when he threw his arm over your shoulders and dragged you to everyone in the party telling them that you were his bestest friend. 

Chenle was off playing beer pong with some of his friends. Whilst you made sure Sungchan stayed on the life side of things. You took the Gin away from him leaving it on the counter as you dragged him to a couch to sit on. He was a lot taller than you, and it was becoming exhausting supporting his weight. 

"You know," He started as you pushed him into the couch, "I want to tell you a secret." 

You laughed at how drunk he was, you hadn't actually seen him this drunk since high school. 

"What's up?" You asked. 

"I like this girl." He said. You laughed again, and even though you didn't want it to your heart clenched. You felt guilty because you had an amazing boyfriend, and it had been two whole years of liking this idiot. You should be over this, but maybe it took time, and maybe Chenle would help it, but maybe he wouldn't. 

"Who?" You asked finally settling into the couch next to him. 

"You." He said, just as Chenle walked over. Your heart felt like it stopped, your breathing coming in slowly as you stared at your boyfriend. 

"I need to go home." You said getting up as Chenle grabbed onto you. He took your face in, his eyes scanning your features and simply nodded guiding you out the house. 

— 

You were ignoring him, and he wanted to say that he couldn't understand why. Sungchan wanted to say that he was so black-out drunk the night before that he couldn't remember anything. But he remembered. He turned over in bed groaning loudly into it as the night played in his head again. The pain on your face that you couldn't even hide torturing him as he closed his eyes. 

His phone finally rang with a call from you at six pm. Sungchan was still in bed, his head aching. He grabbed his phone from under his pillow however and quickly answered. 

"I'll be over in five minutes." You said and hung up. He cringed at your tone, whatever he was about to hear from you wasn't going to be pleasant. 

You started speaking before he could even open the door. A hard shove moving him out of the way as you barged in. 

"-fuck you. You are a selfish prick. I don't care how drunk you were. I have tried so hard to move on do you know that?" You asked him. He flinched back from you. Your eyes were angry and all of the anger was directed at him and every bit of it valid. He couldn't look at you so he turned his head to the floor fixating his eyes on his own feet. 

"Do you understand how hard I've tried?" Your voice broke on your last word, and Sungchan's head snapped up to your face. You were crying, he moved forward his body moving before he could stop it. He gathered you into his arms but you pushed away from him, going to the far side of the living room, deeper into his apartment. 

He stayed glued to his spot. 

"I hate you!" You yelled, your tears flowing out your eyes as you began to sob. Sungchan's hands twitched at his side his heart broke as he watched you. 

"I hate you so fucking much!" You yelled again. Sungchan's eyes stung but he didn't take them off you. Not again, because he did this to you. 

"I've liked you for so fucking long and the moment I almost move on you fucking do this." You slumped into his couch, your hands covering your face as you continued to cry. 

Sungchan quickly moved to your side, his hands pulling at you until you were settled against his chest. He blinked his eyes controlling his own tears before he spoke. 

"I'm sorry Y/N. I'm so sorry, and if I could take it back I would." You only cried harder at his words soaking his black t-shirt as he held you. 

"Fuck you Sungchan." You said again as your hand fisted into his shirt holding him closer to you. 

Sungchan held you until you calmed down. 

Pulling away from him you wiped at your face. 

"Chenle and I broke up this morning." You said, and even though it shouldn't Sungchan's heart sang in his chest. 

"He was pissed. He said that he should have known from the beginning that he was in a losing game." Your voice shook as you spoke. Sungchan grabbed at you again but you pulled away from his grasp. 

"That doesn't mean I'm just going to date you." You said clearly still angry. 

Sungchan nodded, trying to hide his smile. "But you'll let me take you out eventually?" He asked 

You looked over at him again, your eyes were swollen from the crying and your hair a mess, somehow you still looked perfect to him. 

"Maybe." You replied. 

"How about Friday, two weeks from now?" He asked. You narrowed your eyes at him, and he smiled back at you. 

"Cool, I'll pick you up at 6." 

You rolled your eyes at him. Which only prompted him to ask another question. 

"So what movie do you want to watch tonight and where do you want to get take out from?" He knew you would stay, he knew you'd cuddle him. He knew you too well. Because although you grumbled, although you were mad, although you hated him currently. You leaned back into the couch your shoulder leaning into his. 

"Pizza, and you’re paying." 

This time Sungchan wasn't going to do nothing. This time Sungchan was gonna get his girl. 

[megan-is-mia]

Hello, may I request number 2 from yandere monster prompt for Vil please?

(This turned into a song fic, sorry. I used the song Lavender Blue cause I wasn’t feeling good when I wrote this) 2. “If you love me you’ll let me make your beauty eternal” (Yandere! Vil Schoenheit x Fem! S/o)

“Lavender's blue, dilly dilly, lavender's green” Vil crooned softly as he ran the brush through (Y/n)’s hair. “When I am king, dilly dilly, you shall be queen” he went on his voice still soft as he set the brush down so he could begin braiding the girl’s hair back into a neat-looking braid. “Who told you so, dilly dilly, who told you so?” his gentle voice made it hard for (Y/n) to find the strength to fight his touch. 'Twas mine own heart, dilly dilly, that told me so.” the blonde sang, finishing the braid and twisting into a bun that rested comfortably at the nape of (Y/n)’s neck. “Call up your men, dilly dilly, set them to work” Vil went on, now helping (Y/n) to her feet and stripping her of her nightgown and tossing it into the laundry bin nearby. “Some with a rake, dilly dilly, some with a fork” he crooned as he guided the girl into a fresh dress that laced up the back meaning she needed his help to tighten it. “Some to make hay, dilly dilly, some to thresh corn” the blonde sang as he pulled the laces of (Y/n)’s dress snug against her body but not so much that it hurt. “Whilst you and I, dilly dilly, keep ourselves warm” he cooed as he tied the laces into a neat bow at the top. “If you should die, dilly dilly, as it may hap” Vil said, taking hold of (Y/n)’s wrist and leading her towards the door out of the bedroom. “You shall be buried, dilly dilly, under the tap” the blonde sang as his other arm wrapped around the girl’s waist to keep her steady as they reached a flight of stairs. “Who told you so, dilly dilly, pray tell me why?” he went on crooning the words as he reached the final stanza of music before the spell would break. “That you might drink, dilly dilly, when you are dry” with these final words spoken the spell that kept (Y/n) in a doll-like state broke and she regained control of her limbs. 

“I hate you so much, you’re awful” (Y/n) muttered under her breath trying to keep herself from crying and showing an even more pitiful side of herself to the blonde. “You say such cruel things but I don’t believe that you truly mean them my love” Vil said, forcing the girl to lean on him as they made their way down the stairs. “You know I only do such things because I love you so, just as you love me in return yes?” the blonde said and received a reluctant but honest nod from the young woman before adding. “If you love me you’ll let me make your beauty eternal darling” he concluded with a resolute note to his voice.

“Love isn’t about turning things stagnant just because they might change. If you truly loved me you wouldn't be afraid to let me spread my wings and fly free because you’d know I’d return to you at the end of the day” (Y/n) ready to begin an argument she’d had with Vil a thousand times before. Yet she always kept the hope in her heart that one day he’d finally listen to her and stop this madness of treating her like she was some kind of oversized doll that he could bring out and play with at his leisure only to force her back into darkness when he had grown tired of her complaints…

THE END

[writings-of-a-hufflepuff]

Made not Born: Part 1

Fandom: The Witcher (Netflix)

Pairing: Jaskier x Plus Size! Goddess! Reader

Warnings: 

Writer: @writings-of-a-hufflepuff​ aka @hufflepuffing-all-day-long​

Summary: You’re a goddess of little things, but you were made not born. You tire of immortality, of the glitter that does not fade, of watching those around you grow and age and falter and die. You help Jaskier in a moment of need and in return he tries to help you. Perhaps you find yourself falling in love along the way.

Notes: 

You find him by the roadside. You’ve followed his journeys, one of the many mortals you enjoy watching the life of, and now you find him in need of help. His clothes are dirtied, he is sat in a muddy ditch, hair misplaced and blood bleeding from the broken skin of his lip. He is beaten and he is bloody, but not dangerously so. But you are a minor goddess, good for healing little wounds and mending small broken things. 

You don’t answer his questioning calls until you’ve placed a hand on his cheek and the bruises have faded, the cuts stitching themselves back together, the rips in his doublet mending. You doubt he knows what god you are, few do, but his eyes glimmer with recognition as he takes in your form. You are the homeliest looking of the gods, although by mortal standards anything but. Your hips are wide, your stomach soft, your skin is covered in marks and scars from your previous mortal life. Your hair does not shine and your eyes do not glow. You looked as you did in your mortal life, only with something extra, something which mortals could never place a finger on and could never quite describe. It was an essence that let them know you were more than them, something else, something other. For some this bred fear, other’s awe, some comfort, and many curiosity.

“You’re Desara” He lifts himself from his place sitting, only to kneel instead. Blue eyes twinkling up at you, taking in the strands of your hair, the colour of your eyes, the way your dress falls around your body as if purposefully effortless. He tries not to stare, he really does, but he’s never met a god before and you’re...godly, no...otherworldly, effortlessly beautiful, shining like a beacon and, most of all, you look kind. There is a softness in your face that he never expected a god to have, he always imagined there would be glares and glowering, thunderbolts and lightning. He always thought gods were supposed to be frightening.  You were the opposite of what he had imagined, you gave off a feeling of comfort and safety that had his shoulders relaxing without a thought.

“That’s what you mortals call me...I go by Y/N...” You rest your hands on his shoulders and urge him to rise, he towers above you. Another thing he thought impossible. He always imagined the gods doing the towering, but he has to angle his head downwards to look you in the eye. He isn’t sure if he’s supposed to look a god in the eye...he’s not sure what godly etiquette is. He’s fully prepared to make a massive faux pas and be struck down with some sort of plague or be crushed under the might of your godly powers. 

“Well, that’s very...”

“It’s a very mundane name, I know. I wasn’t always a goddess, you know?” You say with a small little smile, coy, playful. He shakes his head and swallows hard. He will admit he knows your name, knows that you are a minor goddess, known for little things, but he does not know what little things and he does not know your story or history. He always imagined that Gods were born. That they simply burst into existence or rather they existed and birthed everything else. He’d be lying if he said he was an overly devout man, he’d seen enough to be open minded, but had never been one for leaving offerings at shrines or speaking out prayers and thanks.  

“I was once a farmer’s daughter. I sowed the seeds, I threshed the wheat, I brought in the harvest...and then one day a god came to me and decided to make me a god too. She believed they needed more, believed she could create something more of me. I think she believed I’d become a great one, a powerful one.” You laugh and he thinks it is supposed to sound bitter and humourless, but instead it sounds soft on the breeze like the light strumming of his lute or the sound of birdsong on a spring morning. “So I became Desara, Goddess of the little things, the warmth of a hearth, the feeling of home after a long journey. Goddess of small creatures and little deeds, of jaunty tunes and a noiseless breeze. Goddess of the seed that roots and the weed that dies, Goddess of the daisy chains and flower crowns. Of worms and of rhymes. Of broken noses and split lips. My powers are minor and few pray to me. Mostly, little children who find my rhymes and songs amusing or who wind chains of flowers for their friends. They soon forget, however.”

“A rather impressive list, oh beautiful creature, oh mighty goddess” He is not sure how anyone could forget you. If you consider yourself minor and unimpressive he cannot imagine what the other gods are like, but he finds that he has no interest in finding out.

“Please. Y/N. I do not enjoy being....grovelled too or worshipped. I am so tired, Julian Alfred Pankratz. I have lived so long and so lonely.” 

“If I am to call you Y/N, then please call me Jaskier.” There is a pause before he continues, “Surely you have admirers at your beck and call?” He cannot imagine you without them. Cannot imagine why men and women would not flock to worship at your feet, why they would not revel in the swell of your hips or the softness of your body, the kindness of your face, or the gentle nature of your words. It seemed to him that anyone would be a fool not to admire and worship you. 

“Admirers are not loves. They grovel, they seek, they desire, they want, but they do not wish to truly know or listen or care. What I would give to be mortal again, to live in the moment, to know there is an end. To be loved for myself, a farmer’s daughter and not a goddess.”

“Is there not some way to do so? To become mortal, I mean?” He doesn’t pretend to know much about these sorts of things, that was always Geralt’s area of expertise, but it makes sense to him that anything that is made can be unmade, anything that is fixed can be broken. 

“For all my years, my knowledge of gods and kings, monsters and men is rather limited. If there is, I doubt the other God’s would tell me for fear that in some hateful fury I might make them mortal. Although I tend to avoid them where possible and would much rather leave them to their quibbling and return to a simpler life”

“Your predicament moves me, Y/N...I am humbled in your presence, “ You go to cut him off and chastise but he stops you, “Not because you are a god or some immortal being but because it is clear to me you have a mortal soul longing for what mortals do.  Love.” Perhaps he is flowery with his words, like most bards are, but you decide that he truly means what he says, no matter how poetic it might appear. 

“If you will permit me, I would try to help? I have little knowledge on the subject of Gods, but I know a friend who might know where to look.”

“The Witcher.” He looks surprised, “Us Gods watch, you know. From our skies and our seas and our grasses and our trees. I find you enjoyable in your journeys, Toss a Coin to Your Witcher really was a masterpiece,” 

“-Why thank yo-” You cut off the thanks, not needing thanks for speaking what you feel is the truth. 

“I watch and I know things. He is your friend and you are right, he knows a great deal about my kind and all the tricks to make or break us...do stress that I was not born a god, I was made...and surely what was made can be unmade?” You take a deep breath and humble yourself, kneeling in front of him in a way none of the other gods would,  “I...thank you, Jaskier...I wish to be me again and I no longer wish to be so old and weary and never age. Thank you for trying even if an answer cannot be found.”

“I’ll find an answer. For good or ill. I’ve never had a quest of my own before, a true adventure, and I refuse to fail you, Y/N. I hope I can return your mortality.” You feel a little of your composure slip at the genuine kindness and determination in his voice, at the hopefully gleam in his blue eyes. You blink away what tears have filled your eyes and stand up to lean forward, pressing a thankful kiss to his forehead, gentleness you bestow upon any you can, but rarely with such genuine feeling. 

“Thank you, Jaskier. I will aid in what little ways I can, but I am no greater god, I cannot do much but mend small breaks, and soothe little hurts.” It’s a warning, kindly, but one to remind him that if he needs help greater than you can give then there is little you can do. It would pain you to see one of your favourite mortals perish in an effort to help you, you wanted your mortality, but not at the cost of a life. Perhaps your mortality wasn’t even possible to regain.

You leave him there, kneeling in the dirt with soft eyes and a softer heart. To him it seems as if you become one with the leaves and the trees, drifting off to somewhere unknown and his eyes follow for as long as they can before you disappear entirely. He steels himself, rising from the ground, tugging on his now mended doublet and grabbing his lute. He has a witcher to find and despite their current differences, Geralt had made it quite clear that he didn’t want the bard hanging around, Jaskier needed his help and he would put up with the grump for you. A kind goddess in need of help regaining her mortality, beautiful as the sunrise and quiet as the moon, well, that was just a song that needed to be written and a story that needed to be told.