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#but idk it felt fitting for this piece
teddy-bear-d · 6 months
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Real Life Hugs?!!! <3
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probablyaparadox · 9 months
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Oh gosh here we go again- the peak of my hyper fixation on something where I finally post a theory... SO CROCODILE- (Y'all love this guy on tumblr-)I'm going to be very truthful, this started out as a head cannon which I found evidence for in this theory to bring my idea's to completion, and really ties up my thought process together.
What are the key takeaways? 1. Crocodile specifically Avoids having a ring on ring finger, and this could be because he has a spouse 2. Him having lost them in some way, and Iva knowing about them. But why Iva? And why do I say them? Y'all already know- I'm saying Crocodile is gay, and has a husband, well somewhere out there. This makes logistic sense because well, why Iva becomes answered, but we also have a subtle hint in crocodiles overall design. Firstly
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Crocodiles Outfit is surprisingly evocative of the victorian dress. Mostly thanks to the vest and cravat look. Additionally, the victorian era began in 1837, very close to when Cigars became popular. I bring this up partially because I think it's cool, and partially because it allows for some implications to come across, as one piece's world spans socially over several decades in terms of atmosphere and acceptance. Mostly that the victorian era was a time where being LGBTQ+ was still considered taboo. So while most of new kama is living in the times of 1970's to modern day, he is very much living in the victorian era. One revolves around being loud and proud, and the other very much around subtleties. What subtleties does he have? Well. For starters, It's a very- Choice colour with the purple vest there. (this is mostly a joke, although purple is associated with signalling, it's usually a different manner as far as I'm aware.) What I actually want to talk about is the earring. Most characters in one piece Wear double earrings if they are wearing them (I.E. Law, bart, Nami, Blackbeard etc.) For those of you unaware, Earring signalling goes like this. Right is gay, left is straight. I could only find three characters wearing a single earring. 1. Zoro on his left. 2. Benn Beckman on his right (Good for him!/hj) and 3. Crocodile on his right. So with this ramble aside. I think his interactions with Iva and the gays TM make much more sense. He's down with the gays because well. He is. They literally give him an entirely new outfit, just like they do for the rest of the LGBTQ+ people they bring in. And why IVA SPECIFICALLY would know that he is married, as per Iva knowing and being all gay peoples parent (/hj). In all seriousness I think it would make sense in this context that he asked Iva to help with his wedding or something of the like, since he (and presumably his husband) likely didn't have many connections to people who could do wedding stuff non-judgementally I.E. a cake or getting someone to do the vows. It's very wholesome, but it's something that I could see as Crocodile wanting to be kept secret, as he's been characterized as someone very secretive. This part is pure speculation/almost definitely false; but. I could definitely see some sort of "held hostage" situation. As Crocodile said "If you want to protect something, do it right." This could be someone who is protecting something, but also someone who lost it. I mean, they've forced the other warlords into similar corners, with the protection of Amazon Lily, or the release of Arlong (and likewise the safe return of all the escaped slaves from the Sun pirates who just wanted to go home.) It makes the "wanting to have a power that can match the WG or any nation in force" goal of his have a much more interesting reason than "KING OF THE PIRATES." We got enough folks aiming for that already, and I feel like if you beat an early antagonist that badly and just keep using him, you gotta have some kind of pay off that doesn't involve him getting beat again.
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spookberry · 2 years
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don't mess with love magic kids!
since this is actually a redraw of a piece I did when i was 17 (which is in itself a redraw of something I'd drawn at 16) I thought I'd share the older versions just because of how crazy a jump in skill it is!
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I think i redrew this a third time back in like 2019 but that was like ink on paper, so I'm not gonna count it here... mainly cuz I don't want to have to find it.
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skitskatdacat63 · 3 months
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Painting 🖼
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hiperspoon · 2 months
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-Summer time-
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hmsmilkbone · 1 year
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honestly. I don't really have a lot of interest in jjk anymore, which is super frustrating as the story foundation is really interesting. I have my favorite characters, and I'm not really interested in reading beyond this point.
As a whole, I'm not a huge fan of dropping stories just because they don't go the way you want. In general I personally try not to do this, but stories where the author clearly hates the material or the audience so much they're willing to destroy the story to do so are not enjoyable. I really don't think gege even really likes writing jjk anymore.
There may be some change that I hear about months from now where something worked out one way or the other, but in general I feel like this story is not going to resolve in a way that feels like reading it was a worthwhile experience. And like, for good OR bad. Not every story has a happy ending, but this is really not particularly interesting and I don't feel the need to continue a story where the writer isn't even interested in what happens or how it advances anything outside of their personal pettiness. Feels very much like grr Martin. All the meaningless death and abuse without any real redeeming qualities.
I'm trying to remind myself that not every author wants to be a storyteller. Not every story is good. It's ok to read stories that aren't the best simply because you want to see where it goes, but gege isn't superior in some way, and i dont 'trust that he's cooking'. Even if the story turns around in an interesting or strategic way, I really am not particularly impressed. Ordinarily I would stay along for the ride, but I can't bring myself to care about something even the author doesn't care about. :/
#jjk spoilers#idk i really just dont have any expectations anymore#i love reading books apart from manga and ive had to put down a few because they felt like this#and i have almost always found that in the end my perception of the author and their story was accurate#it makes me sad seeing this unfold in this way#but the shibuya arc which is apparently the least ljked arc in the series#is stretching on forever and people arent enjoying it#anecdotally ive seen a lot of people drop the series#and eventually its just gojng to be all the grimdark losers who unironically love shit like this#it just feels very much like a story for men who hate people#it feels like all the weirdos who made the joker their personality and all the dudes who cant breathe without talking about fight club#or like.. say shit about how the liberals are ruining media like thats the kind of person i see talking about jjk most of the time now#using slurs and not even having intelligent conversations about what's happening#the conversation is usually 'sukuna mid no cap' 'are you stupid gojo is mid stop copium'#and that exchange is repeated over and over like. you have nothing else to add at this point?#i mean i know its primarily bc honestly there really isnt any depth to the story beyond that but my god#what an insufferable way to write or receive a story#and honestly!! i really dont feel like jjk fits into a kids story category at this point#so i do actually feel ljke it is reasonable to expect better writing#not that stories aimed toward kids are bad but one piece is a good example of a story geared more towards children or young adults#adults CAN enjoy it but oda intentionally does not make the story so upsetting that kids cant read it and feel reflected in the events#but jjk is very very different and i think the drop in the quality of writing is reflected in the growing toxicity of the fanbase#anyways.. if you read jjk & youre feeling upset its ok to step away and check in once a month when you can mentally / emotionally prepare#i had to enforce a no read/watch accountability pact with my friends because it was making their depression worse again#no story is worth your health. gege does not give a flying fuck about you. you need to take care of yourself.#im just enjoying my sandbox with the characters and when the story is over ill check back in#theres no right way to experience the story but if its not healthy for you#you wont miss anything by unplugging#and you may find that you really dont want to get back into it when you read it again to check on the story every once in a while#jjk 237
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flugame-mp3 · 5 months
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SEASON NINE FINALE WAS WILD. I HAVE MANY MANY THOUGHTS. WHAT JUST HAPPENED. A FUCKING ROLLER COASTER FOR SURE
#theo.txt#I DID NOT REALIZE DEMON DEAN WAS NOW#DESPITE KNOWING THAT YEAH HE LOOKS ABOUT THAT AGE OR WHATEVER IN THE SCREENCAPS IVE SEEN#WHEN I TELL YOU I CHEERED AT THE END WHEN I REALIZED WHAT WAS GOING ON!!!!! i love crowley pulling some bullshit at the last minute. classi#king of hell shit#and in the end scene where it's just mark sheppard's stellar monologue and the EYELID NOISE... chefs kiss that got me so hyped for s10#i do think this finale got me really interested to see what s10 brings generally#AND DOESNT ROWENA SHOW UP THIS SEASON?? WE LOVE TO SEE IT IM EXCITED#rip gadreel though he was an interesting character. sad he had to die just to prove a point and blow up a cell. but a fitting end ig?? :(#i also loved cas's plan at the end though with the angel radio thing. get his ass lol#but also god i felt so bad for him. can the narrative give him a fucking break. he is trying his god damn best#the curse of free will and the curse of loving. painful but you do it anyway. castiel when i get my hands on you#also if i am not mistaken... the shot parallels to sams first death with deans death... we cry#IS SAM JUST GONNA BE ALL ALONE NOW?? I ASSUME CROWLEY TAKES DEAN WITH HIM?#OH NO 😭😭😭 SAM BABY IM SO SORRY#not that he doesnt always have a rough time but he has a particularly excruciating season. someone give this man a hug#i feel for him very deeply#'i lied' 'ain't that a bitch?' got me. i hate them. SOOOO brothers.#anyway#AAAAAAAAUGH#also why was metatron the worlds number one destiel shipper at the end of the season here im DEAD. MULTIPLE pieces of dialogue hes like 'yo#did it all for HUMANITY... for your ONE HUMAN of CHOICE... the HUMAN who motivates you...' JUST CALL HIM A SLUR WHY DONT YOU#im dead#idk what the general community thoughts are on that episode but i did enjoy it. wild fucking ride from start to finish#s9 wasnt my favorite and definitely did not hook me in the second quarter for some reason. def was not as compelling as like s7 for me but#the points that i liked i really enjoyed#loved sam resorting to summoning crowley. he wants his ass dead SO bad. i think sam deserves the world after the shit he was put through#this season#anyway overall. i am gnawing on the walls and pacing around my room at incredible speeds. what is UP with this show.#man.
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themanwhowouldbefruit · 7 months
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witchinatree · 1 year
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starting season 2 episode 5 and 6 of good omens!! will report back in about two hours wish me luck? i think?
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angelhound · 2 years
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#have been writing lately instead of painting and idk…. how i feel about that#never have i considered myself a writer#i mean i write bad romantic poetry sure. but im writing fiction. novels if u will. and i Like it. :/#its uncomfortable. idk. maybe if i make companion paintings itll feel less obscure. perhaps a web comic will come out of it#ive never been into structured writing ever ever. but it felt… salty. like sweat drying on your skin. gratifying. to finish a whole piece.#it was a fit of mania perhaps. and i have more still bubbling there is much to create. i just have never created in this format before#hate it almost. digging my heels but its pointless to resist where the water knows to go you know? i cannot feel this way about painting#if that is not what is meant to be made at this time. the wild horse of inspiration will not bend to my comfort#yes i know i am an artist in the worst way. yes im aware of how i sound. i am not proud but i suppose i cannot either be ashamed#if i cannot be another way#idk i always wanted to be an airhead lol. before anyways. my grandfather does not understand his gift is as enviable as my own#hes not an airhead you could not imagine so after listening to him. but he is enigmatic in that way.#socialized better maybe. the gift of living as you imagine because you are not imagining at all#i never wanted to be reclusive. driven by fits of madness. but i dont have another way known to me#the life i imagine is lived by those who are not imagining it#but idk i think less nowadays. it helps to figure myself an unsocialized dog. something to be solved by careful hands#ugh. god with how i talk sometimes i wonder how it surprises me to become a pos writer. who else talks like that#anyways im incredibly ill still lol going to again attempt to shower the virus out of me
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myname-isnia · 7 months
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Suddenly got this really weird off-putting feeling in my chest that I usually get when I’m about to cry over something, but also with some general iffyness thrown into the mix, and for once instead of immediately giving in to it or getting pissed at my mind I tried to figure out where it came from
Turns out I would have been completely justified in getting pissed at my mind because turns out, the cause is that I thought about a fic concept I was really excited about a few months ago that I never ended up writing because I couldn’t get into the flow from the very first sentence. I thought about it for a whole five seconds and now we’re here. Fucking great
#I need the ability to shut my brain off bc it’s always dead set on making me upset#yeah no shit I’m depressed and passively suicidal of course my mind is my worst enemy. but still. very mature thing to get hysterical about#and like. I barely even tried with that fic. I was riding that Astraphobia high back then#and thought I finally managed to achieve what other writers always went on and on about re: enjoying writing#yeah I know. I spent years writing without once enjoying the process or the final result. idk why I kept at it for so long#so I was feeling genuinely unstoppable and when the idea came to me I was super excited about writing it#but then I wasn’t really sure how to start it or how to even go about describing what I wanted to go down#I typed up a few sentences and it all just felt extremely wrong#so instead of acting like the adult I nearly am and like. leaving it to sit for a while as I gathered my thoughts#or trying out a few other approaches or starting with a different scene and filling the rest in later#I just threw a fit over it and abandoned the whole fic#but I still really like the idea and would like to see it realised. and who’ll do that if not me? kat has her own stories to worry about#so every so often I remember that excitement I felt at the prospect of getting to write it#and how quickly it faded when it didn’t feel as effortless as most of astraphobia did#and how that really felt like the greatest betrayal because it seemed as if the spark I spent so long trying to cultivate and light#was just doused with freezing water right in front of me. by my own mind no less#so… I suppose that betrayal will continue to haunt me still. probably until I pull myself together and write that fic#regardless of the pain and tears it will cause. and I know it will. that’s what forcing fics out always feels like#and I’m saying forcing out fics bc the only time I felt like an actual writer was when I wrote Astraphobia#all the other times I was just stubbornly shoving the wrong puzzle pieces together. or forcing square shape into round holes like a toddler#but regardless. I will keep remembering the idea and feeling like shit over failing at it unless it gets written#by me or kat and it shouldn’t be her job to write fics for me bc I’ll throw a fit if she doesn’t#exaggerated. but the point is there. I can’t expect anyone to disarm the triggers in my brain. only I can do that#and if writing that fic will stop me from getting hysterical at the tiniest thought of it. then it seems like I’ll have to see to it#even if it takes a huge mental load. it’ll be worth it in the long run bc I’ll have one less writing-related thing to cry about#I just wish I knew how to go about it better. I have clear ideas about the main part of the fic but the inciting incident + details evade me#I guess I’ll just have to figure it out. I have to stop saying ‘it is what it is’ and continuing to stew in the self hatred#something needs to be done. and in this case the only thing that will remove the trigger is the fic being written#I think part of me always knew that but tried to ignore it and hoped those feeling would fade with time. but of course they didn’t.#so… I guess it’s never been clearer what I have to do. my fate is in my own hands. one trigger less certainly wouldn’t hurt
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strawbebyjam · 1 year
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how do i tell my prof i don’t have the proposal ready because of heartbreak
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kaysungshine · 2 months
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Redamancy ['red-a-man-sE] noun ;a love returned in full
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Part II out now!
{ Pairing } - idol!bangchan x staff!afab.reader (with a hint of bestfriend!jisung?)
{ Genre } - NSFW, the trifecta (s/a/f), frenimies to friends to lovers? idk but we'll get there in the end
{ Synopsis } - Han Jisung is your new bestie & technical colleague, of course you befriended the rest of his members. Group nights became a tradition, & tonight involves liquor and drinking games for the first time. Truth or drink?
{ WC } - 6.7k
{ Warnings & tags } - 18+ MDNI, NSFW, smut, angst, fluff, drinking, breath play (choking), swearing, dry humping, use of 'babygirl', mention of wet dream, talk of edging, talk of domming, talk of choking, talk of exhibitionism, all of ot8 is suggestive af when they drink, reader and jisung are PLATONIC I promise they're just touchy, they're all giggly drunks so overuse of laughing chuckling and giggling, chan is kinda dumb in this he just... is in denial land but we'll find out more about that later, unrealistic work scenarios, unrealistic dorm setup? idk lol
{ Disclaimer } - This work is in no way associated with the actual skz, and is a fictional piece. I DO NOT own Stray Kids, this fic is just influenced by them!
{ A/N } - Okay I know I took forever to post & this intro is hella long & I'm sorry! Once again, I will say this is my first skz fic. I come from the world of AO3 & dramione. I am out of my comfort zone lol. First time posting stories on tumblr too! So if I missed anything please let me know <3 there will be a part 2, I've already started writing it! The plot is weak af, but gimme a few more stories and I'll find my groove. Promise! Unbeta'd, be gentle with me ♡
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It was supposed to be a relatively chill Saturday night, so you were excited. You just got off work, and had arrived at Jisung's. He swung the door open smiling and pulled you inside, into an immediate hug. Everyone said their greetings, and then Jisung went immediately to whining.
"Finally, what kept you so late?"
You took your shoes, mask, sunglasses, and hat off, letting your curls fall down your back. Then you unzipped your sweatshirt, shrugging it off your shoulders and exposing your fitted white tee. You gave your jacket and bag to Ji so he could put them away. You always arrived in 'disguise', in baggy clothing so that no one suspected anything. Though you thought it was ridiculous. It doesn't matter how baggy the sweat pants or hoodie is, there's no hiding the curve of your ass.
You were a content editor at JYPE, and had become really good friends with Han Jisung. Friendships between idols and staff certainly aren't forbidden, in fact they're encouraged to an extent... as long as no lines are crossed. But it's pretty much an ignored rule. Anyways, you were a small 'behind-the-scenes' employee, not a manager or assistant or makeup artist. Not anyone directly involved with any idols. No one off the street knew who you were. Still, over the last almost year or so, you and him became besties. You frequently shared meals together at work, had sleepovers, you even went camping. You were basically glued to each other. It could easily be taken the wrong way by the media and fans. Hell, it gets taken the wrong way by co-workers, other idols, and even his group members. Although they've mostly accepted that's not the case. It's a given with the way you two act though.
Your relationship is definitely platonic, confirming pretty early on that neither of you felt anything more than friendly love for each other. But you both love teasing the other suggestively. You suppose that's partly why you two got so close so quickly. Your personalities are so similar, it's like you share the same singular brain cell sometimes.
"Editing, per usual." You finally reply with a sigh, "We had to cut A LOT out of nexz's new video. They're so high energy, they slip up a lot, especially with the swearing, but nothing we can't handle."
"Gotta love kids." Chan snorts while sipping a beer.
You smile awkwardly in response and look around the room. Everyone is here, all with their preferred beverages, and chatting away or scrolling.
Ji comes back with a drink for you, he knows you're partial to tequila and always keeps it on deck. Normally, you spend every weekend you can together, which sometimes is not as often as either of you would like. Sometimes you'd both head back to your place, and just have all nighters, binge watching anime and gorging yourselves on junk food. More recently, like tonight, you get invited over to hang with him and the rest of the boys.
It usually results in a few drinks and a movie, or talk about work. Sometimes you just play music and talk and vibe, or try to cook food together when you get the munchies... Which more than likely results in Minho taking over because he just can't help himself. However the nights play out, they're always fun, and you're gradually getting closer to the rest of the members too. Although no one can compare to the bond you have with your Jiji.
"I don't wanna watch a movie tonight, my eyes hurt too much." He starts complaining.
"Poor baby." You tease and run your fingers through his hair, laughing.
"When are you two just going to come out with the fact that you're in love?" Seungmin asks.
You roll your eyes, "When dwaekki's fly."
"I can easily make that happen." Changbin laughs.
"We could play a game?" Felix suggests, already looking flushed from the alcohol.
Jeongin gets excited, "Let's do a drinking game! It's been a while."
"I don't believe I've ever played a drinking game with y'all."
Hyunjin hums, "Mm, you haven't. Mostly because we get crazy, we've never brought up the idea."
This piqued your interest, "More crazy than I've already seen? I don't think that's possible."
Minho chimes in this time, "You forget we're a group of men sometimes, I swear. Mix alcohol and suggestive games, it definitely gets 'crazier' than you've seen, inappropriately crazy."
You level him with a smirk, "I'm down."
"That's my y/n!" Ji says, while pulling you to sit in his lap, "Fearless."
You giggle and lean into him while Minho just narrows his eyes at you and purses his lips. Something tells you he's up to something, but you're ready for any challenge.
"Fine. Then we'll play something easy, truth or drink. If someone refuses to answer, they drink. Whoever finishes their drink first loses." Minho says.
"What does the loser have to do?" You ask.
"Pay for everyone's lunch every day for a month!" Changbin says.
"Deal." You say. 
You're an open book, Ji knows this. There's no question you won't answer.
Everyone is up now, getting new drinks & refills before the game starts. You can't help but notice that Chan didn't get up, he looks a little nervous for some reason. He was always the most worried about you being around so much. In the beginning it definitely came across like he didn't like you. Now you know that's not the case... you think. He tolerates you now to say the least. You couldn't blame him too much, he was just protective of his boys. You actually found it incredibly sweet, or maybe it's just that stupid soft spot you have for him.
He always tried to keep you at arms length from the group. Not wanting anyone to get too close to you. Until Jisung put him in his place, as best he could anyways.
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You were in Ji's lap, watching Spirited Away. He was drawing imaginary lines and shapes on your back, while you rested your head on his shoulder, facing the tv. His head was resting on top of yours as well, and a blanket covered you both.
Chan walked in seeing this, and nearly had a stroke. He said we were being inappropriate. And specifically made it a point to tell you to be more professional as a member of the staff. Short version: know your fucking place, you're overstepping. 
You scoffed at him, prepared to confront him about his growing disdain towards you. Let him know he's the one being inappropriate, downright childish. But Ji nudged you onto the couch and got to him first.
It was kind of cute watching him standing there, ears becoming red and getting in Chan's face. Cute in the way that it was like a maltese puppy trying to stand up to a doberman. Then he proceeded to yell at him about how he was way out of line. Saying he was being flat out disrespectful and that he was done with the ridiculous way he has been acting about you. The last thing he said was that he didn't know what got into him, and that he'd never seen this side of Chan before. 
Chan was silent, looking intensely into Jisungs eyes. But he never backed down, so Chan poked his tongue to his cheek, then retreated to his room for the whole night. You had to scoop Ji off the floor right afterwards. He had let his knees buckle, and fell to the floor once Chan was gone. Citing that he wasn't sure he was going to live through the night to see the morning sun. Typical dramatic fashion for your best friend. But you soothed him, fluffing up his ego about 'defending your honor'. His words, not yours.
As that night went on though, the tiniest bit of worry coursed through you. Chan hadn't come back out. Not even when the other members came home, trying to knock on his door to greet him. Or when the food was ready to be served, you had even given knocking a try. Only after Hyunjin begged you to, because 'He already doesn't take care of himself. He needs to eat.' No, you didn't see him again that night until you had already walked out the front door. He slipped out behind you shortly after, grabbing you by the wrist and stopping you. 
You thought he was going to continue the argument for a moment, but no, he was apologizing. Not much more was said afterwards, but his apology was genuine and heartfelt, so you accepted it. You two ended up hugging it out, and thank goodness no one saw that, because it was incredibly cringeworthy. He had no more major issues after that. But he was still unexplainably awkward around you, but it's not like you were any better. You two simply didn't know how to interact with each other for longer than 30 seconds. And that was pushing it. You suspected that might not ever go away. He likes to keep his walls high and strong, and you're stubborn at times.
But of course,  despite that stubbornness. You developed some sort of feelings towards him. Feelings you refused to acknowledge, well tried to refuse. You would push those feelings down deep within your heart, put them in a little box, and tape it shut trying to forget it's there. There was no need to pine over the man, he had stay to do that for him, and who knows who else in his life. Somehow that box always ended up ripped open again.
There was never a reason to act on these feelings. Not to mention, you think you'd be breaking SO MANY rules. Putting your job, his job, hell everyone's job at risk. Or worse, making a fool of yourself when he would downright reject you.
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You keep watching him, now he's shaking his leg up and down, seeming agitated. Maybe he just doesn't want everyone getting into a vulnerable state of mind while playing? Maybe he's worried somebody will say or do something wrong? That someone will cross a line, as he loves to say?
Trying to ease his negative feelings, and extend yet another olive branch. You toss a throw pillow at him, hitting him in the chest and pulling him out of his thoughts.
He looks at you, eyebrows wrinkled in confusion, and you just chuckle nervously at him saying, "Don't worry, it's like Vegas. What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas."
"God how fuckin' corny was that?" Ji teases you, poking your side making you giggle more.
To your relief, Chan is laughing with you, and shaking his head, "I just want them to behave."
"Oh relax, we're all grown. We're all friends. So we'll get to know each other more intimately, big whoop." You shrug.
"Mmm..." He replied, before raising his voice so everyone could hear him, "Whatever is spoken about tonight, doesn't leave this room."
"I swear you're the one with anxiety sometimes, not me." Ji mumbles.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah... dad." Hyunjin says as he sits next to you and Ji.
"As if that announcement even had to be made, I swear, and you wonder why we call you old." Seungmin comments.
Once everyone is settled in with their drinks, Minho directs Chan to start the game.
"Jisung, when was the last time you cried?"
He laughed, "You're trying to embarrass me because you know it was this morning, but I am confident and secure in the fact that I am a sensitive man."
He said the last bit with his hand over his heart, and his eyes closed, effectively making everyone chuckle.
"My poor baby, why were you crying?" You question teasingly.
"Please don't bring it up, he'll start blubbering all over again. Stupid, sad, dog rescue videos." Seungmin mumbles.
"Minho!" Ji shouts, pointing at him dramatically, "This question is for you. If you had to kiss someone in this room on the cheek, who would it be?"
"Hyunjin." He said bluntly, making you and everyone else laugh while Hyune just rolled his eyes.
"Would you kiss me back?" He asked him, eyes full of hope and bottom lip jutted out and pouting, trying to act cute. And succeeding, honestly.
Hyunjin acted like he was pondering the question, but ultimately was the first to take a sip from his glass, "I decline to answer."
He looked to you next, a suggestive smirk on his face, making you the next victim, "Y/niiieee..."
"Oi, be respectful." Chan scolds immediately, not liking the look at all.
"All I was going to do was repeat the question!" He said defensively, "Y/n, if you had to choose, who would you kiss on the cheek?"
You tried hard to keep your eyes from trailing over to Chan, a tingly feeling spreading across your skin at the mere thought of innocently kissing his cheek. Instead you chose the easy answer, because it wasn't a lie. You'd also kiss your best friend on the cheek any time.
"My Jiji of course," And you took his face in one hand, squeezing his cheeks between your middle finger and thumb, and plant a loud smooch on each of them, "he probably only asked because he wanted one anyways."
He just chuckles, letting you baby him and Seungmin fake gags.
"Minnieee..." You pause trying to come up with a question, "when you dye your hair next, what color would you want?"
"Green, my entire head green."
"That would look interesting." You laugh.
You all go 'round in circles for a few rounds, completely forgetting about the rules of the game. Having now finished your glasses from casually sipping throughout the game, most of you have switched to occasional shots. You're starting to feel warm and tipsy. Of course the more you all drank, the more the questions started to get more... amorous. Which is exactly how you all assumed this game would go. No wonder Chan was so anxious.
However looking over to him now, he's definitely having a good time. Like every other person, he loosens up while drinking, but tonight he seems even more so.
"Y/n," Chan starts with a sly look making your skin buzz again. Among all of you, he is 100% the most inebriated right now, "when was your first kiss?"
"Yah! He tells us to be respectful, but look how he is after a few drinks!" Changbin yells laughing.
Chan loses it, "You're right Binnie, you don't have to answer or drink." He says in between fits of squeaky laughter. 
You think you could listen to him laugh all day.
You shake your head and snort, "I've answered worse questions playing this game before. I was 13 when I had my first kiss."
Hyunjin nearly spits his drink out, because again, no one is drinking just as punishment anymore, "13?!"
"Well, yeah, it's a pretty normal age in America... I think..." you started to blush, "why, how old were you?" you ask Hyunjin.
He hesitates, but eventually he spoke, "I was 18."
The rest chime in saying they were also 18 or 19. With the exception of Felix who said he was 16.
Without even thinking you start to say, "Aaah, see I was 18 when I-" and you're abruptly stopped with Ji's hand slapping over your mouth.
Your eyes go wide, caught off guard, but understanding as you almost blurted out unnecessary information. Nothing that Ji hadn't known obviously, it's just that everyone else doesn't really know you on that level. 
"Jagi, you only had to answer the one question, adding extra info, that's not how you play the gaaaaame." He says in a sing-song voice, "Hyunjin it's your turn to ask someone."
"No no no no! What was she going to say?" Chan chuckles.
When you looked at him, he winked at you, and you had to stop yourself from going limp in Ji's arms. He knew damn well what you were going to say. Why is he teasing, no torturing you like this?
You peel Ji's hand off your mouth to respond "It's not your turn, you'll have to wait to ask me that."
The group starts laughing and shouting, teasing Chan who is ignoring it all, just staring at you with curious eyes and his tongue in his cheek. Does he know how hot he looks doing that?
"Okay, so then I'll ask you. What were you going to say?" Hyunjin asks calmly, trying to fight the smile off his face.
You pour yet another shot, and knock it back thinking, what the hell, "I was going to say I was 18 when I first hooked up with a man."
Some members looked surprised, the game taking an obvious turn. However Hyunjin, Felix, and Chan started laughing again.
"I knew that's what you were going to say." Felix slurred. 
"Yeah I was definitely teasing you on that, because I knew." Chan followed.
"Mmm, well judging from the shocked faces of everyone else, you two seem to be the only psychics." You try to joke, wanting the attention off of you suddenly.
"No, don't get us wrong, not all of us are as innocent as you think." Seungmin says defensively.
"Oh really now?" You respond, one brow quirking up.
Seungmin just turned red, and sat back in his seat. To which Chan started laughing, yet again. He's a giggly drunk, and you love it.
"Don't tease my puppy, babe." Ji slurred, trying to reach his arm to console Seungmin, but ultimately failing.
"I mean I was 18 too, with the same girl I first kissed." Hyunjin shrugged.
"But what do you mean 'to a man'?" Jeongin asked with a shit eating grin on his face. 
You promptly turned into a tomato, and started choking on air.
"You're not that slow pabo, obviously it means she's been with women too." Ji says, rather loudly and speaking freely, all while patting your back.
You're quiet. It's not like it's a secret, you've never hidden your sexuality. But it never came up in conversation with anyone here, except Jisung.
Wanting to ease the tone, Felix speaks up, "Well I was 18 when I first hooked up with a dude."
"I was 21, but everyone already knows that story." Ji slurred.
The whole conversation triggers another group laughing fit. Except for Chan, who is looking at you with those dark eyes again. And... is he blushing? Or is that the alcohol? He eventually snaps out of whatever daze he was in, and slowly smiles at you reassuringly.
You mentally kick yourself for getting your hopes up, of course he couldn't ever think of you like that. You're imagining things.
"But then, how old were you when you first hooked up with a girl?" Jeongin asked again, genuinely curious.
"A lot younger than 18..." You trailed off laughing, "I'll just say in high school."
"The air is different outside of Korea." Changbin says suddenly, sounding thoughtful.
Hyunjin nearly collapsed laughing, slapping Minho on the knee repeatedly, despite the glare he was shooting him.
"Well I just answered a bunch of questions in a row so that means I get to ask two people a question. And the second person I ask gets the next turn." You say, making up new rules. 
"So... Chan." He looks at you with his eyebrows raised and you just smirk, knowing you're trying to get back at him, "How old were YOU when you lost your virginity?"
He gulps and looks around at the group before answering, "I... was 18."
"Chan-hyung, you never answered us when we would ask you! Why answer her?" Jisung whines.
"I honestly don't know, maybe it's the liquor. None of you ever asked me drunk." He starts giggling.
"Okay so question 2... Binnie!" He gulps and looks at you with wide eyes, "Are you more of a boob guy?" You say grabbing your own, not even really thinking about it, "Or an ass guy?"
Changbin started laughing and answered, "Definitely ass, but I appreciate boobs too, equality."
"I am just learning so much about my fellow members lately." Seungmin whispers.
"Is that a bad thing?" You giggle.
"Not at all, it feels strangely comforting, letting loose like this." He replies and smiles softly at me, "It's been a while."
"It's freeing!" Jeongin yells abruptly, throwing his hands in the air.
"Aye, my question is for you then Min. Have you ever had a wet dream?" Changbin asks.
"... what guy hasn't? Don't all guys get them?" He asks looking around.
Then you chime in again frankly, "Girls can get them too you know."
Why does it feel like you've opened pandora's box on your sex life, in every single aspect?
Ji starts laughing, nodding his head vigorously and you know where this is about to go.
"Really now?" Felix says, mimicking your exact tone from earlier, "What was it about?"
"Mmmm... it's not your turn to ask," Then you turn to Seungmin, "And if you ask me, I will absolutely drink and not answer. No way I'm explaining a sex dream right now."
Seungmin just rolls his eyes and huffs out a laugh.
"But I wanna knooooooow," Jisung whines, "You looked so cute having one last weekend, you never told me what it was about."
Everyone was watching you two closely now, waiting to hear how he knew what you looked like in that situation.
You turned around and smacked his arm, "We weren't going to mention that ever again! Remember?!" You attempt to be angry, but you can't help it and end up smiling.
"Okay, well now I'm curious since you two are bringing this up." Minho says with a glint in his eye.
"Y/n may or may not have had one when I slept over, and I woke up to her moaning and hump--"
This time it was your turn to slap a hand over his mouth, "Jiji, Sungie, my love, my sweet sweet SWEET best friend. I don't want to kill you, but I will." You say in a dulcet tone.
He raised his hands, eyes wide and nodded his head. You couldn't help but laugh, apparently you're a giggly drunk too.
Out of the corner of your eye, you swore you saw Chan adjusting himself in his pants. But then you reminded yourself that it was just wishful thinking and an alcohol induced hallucination. Horny hallucination. God you needed to get over him and under someone else. This unrequited shit wasn't for you.
"I'm so never going to drop this you know, I wanna know what the hell happened." Minho smirked at you, to which you flipped him off jokingly.
It's Seungmin's turn next, and he's just staring at Jeongin with a blank face, "Have you ever had a one night stand?"
He pauses for a moment and then finally answers, "No, I haven't."
He looked at you now, asking his question, "You know what I have to ask now, right?"
"Go ahead." You challenge, fully prepared to choke down another shot and not answer his question, and he smiles.
"What's one of your kinks?"
You were unprepared for that question. And how could you know he would ask that, these men like to fuck around with your head.
"Relax, I just wanted to see your reaction." He says before chuckling.
You glared at him for a moment, halfheartedly. They think they can just retract questions when they get scared that they went too far. Screw that, you're answering.
"I guess the most simple one I have is edging." You shrug.
"The most simple one?!" Hyunjin asked.
"What are you a masochist? Edging is the worst, feels like torture to me." Ji says.
"But the build up is so delicious, and the end result is so worth it. It's so intense." Felix chimes in, "Choking too, that can be intense." 
"Hm, breath play might actually be my favorite." You admit.
"Damn y/n." Ji says, eyeing you with a smile, "You're full of surprises, even to this day." 
You shrug again, "Everyone has different kinks... What's one of yours?" You ask him.
He ponders for a moment, "I like being dommed sometimes."
"Big surprise." Minho says and you all laugh.
"Good one though," You nod, "That's one of mine too."
"I think I'm an exhibitionist, to an extent of course." Hyunjin says next.
"That's also not a surprise." Minho replies.
You can't help but let your eyes wander over to Chan again, while everyone else is sharing different things they're into in bed. The liquor has everyone speaking loosely. But Chan doesn't seem to care about it anymore.
You find him staring right back at you, that same look in his eyes from earlier, and you feel heat spread in your stomach, and wetness starts to pool in your panties. Maybe you weren't imagining things.
But you don't notice that Ji's observing both of you in his drunken haze. Not too faded to ignore you and Chan eye-fucking each other.
Your heart starts racing the longer you hold eye contact, and you start shifting uncomfortably on his lap, before looking away and deciding to get up.
"Alright... I need some bread to soak up this alcohol, and then I need to get home because it's already 2 in the morning." You say with a shaky breath.
"Yeah, I'm wasted right now," Jeongin says and stands, "Bed's a good idea. Goodnight everyone." And he leaves to his room.
Ji grabs your wrist, preventing you from moving, "You're not going anywhere. We're all drunk, you can't drive and no one can bring you back home."
"Fiiiiiiine," You say, "but I still want bread."
"You and your bread fixation whenever you drink." Minho mumbles, heading to the kitchen anyways to grab you some.
When he comes back he hands it to you and you start munching away happily, doing a little dance.
Meanwhile, Felix is trying to tug Chan's arms to make him stand up, but he's fighting him on it and whining. Clearly he exceeded his limit tonight drinking. He probably won't even remember the looks he was giving you, you think.
"I don't wanna go to bed." Chan whines.
Felix finally succeeds in pulling him up, "C'mon mate, you definitely need to sleep this off. You'll be miserable tomorrow. Let's get you some water too, hmm?"
Chan reluctantly holds his arm, and follows him down the hall, stumbling over his own two feet along the way. You can't help but laugh at the sight.
More of the boys say goodnight and head off to their rooms, but Ji and Minho stay with you in the living room, chatting a little longer before bed.
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Ji starts going through his bags, determined that you left some pajamas here from when you slept over previously, and he kept them in a bag to give back to you. He pulls out the nightie, that you honestly forgot you brought here. But you see why you didn't ever wear it at the time. It's dark green, spaghetti straps and has lace along the bust line. It also has slits on each side of your thigh, and only covers you to the middle of your thighs. Your go to sleepware was always nighties or large tees, they're comfortable and sometimes you get hot at night. Mix in the fact that you were drinking tonight? You're already feeling overheated. But wearing this?
"Jiiiiiii, don't you have any t-shirts I can wear?" You whine.
He's already under the covers, fighting sleep, "Sorry babe... haven't done laundry... Nothing clean..."
You whine again before taking it and heading across the hall into one of the bathrooms. It was this or sleep in your sweats, and that idea sounded entirely too suffocating to you.
You slip the nightie on and brush your teeth with your designated toothbrush you had there. Jisungs idea, after you had too much tequila one night and he diligently held your hair back as you got sick.
You sigh as you're leaving, and make your way towards Ji's room. Before you reach the door though, Chan walks out of his room. He's in a black tank top, and red boxer briefs... your eyes immediately trail down and go wide. His outline clear as day. But you change your view quickly, hopefully before he notices.
It doesn't help though, now all you're doing is eyeing his arms, the muscles cut throughout them. The veins that trail all the way down to his hands. God, his hands... What wouldn't you let those hands do to you...
He scratches the back of his head, and the movement snaps you out of your gaze. You find him staring back at you for a second before answering, "Sorry, I'll just..."
You start to shake your head, "No, no. No reason to apologize." You chuckle and start shifting on your feet. You feel the skirt of your nightie swaying with you. It opened the slit wider, and Chan immediately looked down at your exposed thigh. He inhaled quietly, sucking in air through his nose.
Any other day, you'd be scrambling to cover yourself. Feeling insecure and too bare. You don't know if it was the liquor in you, but tonight? Being on display? It turned you on.
You clenched your thighs together, almost involuntarily, and Chan didn't miss that.
Time seemed to be moving too slow. He stepped towards you, nearly closing the gap between you. He's only inches away, and looking down on you. His eyes have that dark, smoldery look again. He raised his hand and brushed the curls off your face and behind your ear. When he rests his palm against your cheek, your eyes flutter shut and you lean into his touch. It's so warm, and comforting. As if it was always meant for you.
When you open your eyes, you can clearly see the lust in his is only growing. He's not holding it back anymore, biting his lip as he stares at you. You almost whimper in anticipation.
"This is your opportunity to walk away if you're not okay with me kissing you." He says lowly.
You closed your eyes, and his lips met yours. The first few seconds were sweet and soft. Almost too innocent for the heat of the moment, but then he deepened it. He was pulling you by the waist into him, running his hands down and resting them on your ass. You could easily feel how hard he was for you, even through the thin fabrics. This time you let the whimper out, and he swiped his tongue along your bottom lip before sucking it into his mouth. When you tried to do the same, he didn't give you the chance. Instead he slipped his tongue in. It was like he was lost in desire, and greedy for more. You couldn't help it when your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer.
He groaned and started backing you into the wall, his lips never leaving yours. He grabbed your thighs in each hand, and hoisted you up, slotting himself between them. Your legs naturally wrapped around him, and he started rocking his length against you. His pace was achingly slow, but still delicious.
You moaned and slipped a hand up to the nape of his neck, grabbing a fistful of hair. He breaks the kiss and throws his head back with his eyes closed. He half hisses, half groans, and you can't help but rock your hips against him harder, hoping to hear more. He grips your thigh tighter, and leans down to press a quick kiss to your neck, before licking and sucking on it. He's meeting each roll of your hips with rough thrusts. And even clothed, you feel how perfectly he's rubbing your clit.
Your head is so clouded with need. Need to be touched. Need to touch him. Need to feel him inside of you. You don't even think twice when he glides his hand up your stomach, and over your breasts. He gives one a light squeeze before moving up to wrap his fingers around your neck, and your brain loses all sense for a moment.
He's just resting his hand there, but you wish he'd do more. You're not sure if this man knows just how pliant you are for him right now.
Then he brings his lips to your ear and whispers, "Can I touch you?"
His warm breath gives you chills, and you nod your head as best as you can. But that doesn't suffice him, he stops his movements against you and his grip around your throat tightens. You think you could probably get off on it if he tightens his fingers just a bit more, but he doesn't, instead he says, "I'm going to need words, babygirl."
Your hips buck into him, and you breathe out a quiet "Yes. Please..."
With that, he yanks your face closer to his by your neck. He's squeezing ever so slightly tighter around your throat. He bites your lip and you groan. But he's quick to silence you with his tongue.
Letting go, he trailed his hand back down your body and to your core. Slowly he started to rub you through the thin lace. You were so sensitive, that when he found your clit and pressed a circle into it. You couldn't help but breathe out his name. He pushed your panties to the side, and when he felt you for the first time you felt him smile against your lips.
"Babygirl... fuck, you're so wet for me." 
And as he whispered that, he slipped a finger in you. He set a steady pace, dragging against your walls with a curl. Each pump hitting your sweet spot, and the heel of his hand creating delightful friction against your swollen bud. His breathing was heavy in your ear, breaking through all your helpless whimpering. When he added a second finger, you couldn't hold back anymore.
"Chan..." You moaned louder this time, while simultaneously letting your head drop against the wall with a thud.
He pulled his lips off of you, eyes wide when he met yours. He started blinking as if he was coming back to reality. When he looked into your eyes again, he looked startled.
"What's wrong?" You pant, feeling hot and dizzy, wishing he would keep moving his hands.
Instead, he quickly slips his fingers out of you, and sets your feet on the floor. Then he backs away.
"I'm sorry, y/n... I don't know what came over me, that was incredibly inappropriate and out of character." Chan mumbled.
Your heart sinks, as you feel the sting of rejection. Tears threatened to well in your eyes, and you immediately felt the oncoming headache from holding them back. You shouldn't feel so emotional and upset. This was all spur of the moment. But you do, you feel devastated.
Regardless, you clear your throat, "I understand." You force an unsettling chuckle out, when a sob threatens to escape instead.
He puts on a blank face that feels so cold, and responds with "Don't forget to drink some water, stay hydrated... I'll be heading to bed now, you should too."
All you really want to say is don't leave, because you want to finish what was started. Because you've wanted this for so long. Because the box you kept away in the depths of your heart had ripped open once again. And all the languished emotions were here, front and center, aching to bear it all to him. To let him see. Confess. But that would be selfish, he's clearly uncomfortable with it all. He probably regrets it. An alcohol induced affair. In his eyes, a complete mistake. 
So instead you say, "Okay."
Because that's all you can muster before the tears start to fall. You turn away,  going back to facing Ji's door. 
"Goodnight y/n... Sleep well." He says, and puts a tentative hand on your shoulder.
You shrug it off, and escape to Ji's bedroom. To your surprise he's sitting up in bed, and ushering you come to him with his arms open and bottom lip pouted out.
You run to him, a bit dramatically and fall a part in his arms. But you can't help it, you sealed these emotions away for too long. You were too hurt at the moment to even try pushing them back down.
Jisung is your life saver, he's comforting you, rubbing his fingers on your scalp and rocking you back and forth to try and calm you. He gives you time before you have to explain why exactly you're having a melt down.
"Chan's an idiot." He finally says.
And you lean back to look at him, confused on how quickly he's put two and two together.
"Well you weren't exactly quiet. Between your exaggerated moans and his animalistic grunting right outside my door, of course I heard it." He rolled his eyes jokingly and that earned a laugh from you.
You smacked him lightly, "I was lost in the moment... don't judge me."
"Jagi..." He says, and wipes the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs, "You've liked him for so much longer than a moment."
Your heart starts pounding faster again. How could he know that. It's the one thing you've kept from him, from everyone, hell you even denied it to yourself for as long as possible. Was it that obvious? Who else knows? You go to speak, fear written across your face.
"No. You were not obvious, in fact you're an amazing actor. I'm sure none of the other members noticed, and definitely no one else at work knew." He answers before you can even get words out.
You nod slowly, "So then, how'd you know?"
He smiled proudly, "I'm a people watcher, I see all."
You smack him again, a little harder this time.
"Alright, alright, but I really did see all the looks you'd give him when no one else was watching... I know what longing looks like, and..." he trailed off.
You knew that wasn't all, "And?"
"Aaaaand... maybe that night you had that wet dream. You were moaning his name while humping the pillow..."
"You never told me that!" You shoved your head into your hands, distraught.
"Well I didn't want to embarrass you! I honestly didn't think you looked at any of us that way until then. Like I said, a good actor. I figured you'd tell me when you were ready to."
You sighed, "I'm sorry. It's just a stupid crush, it'll pass."
"You're grown, you don't have to apologize to anyone for liking someone. But y/n," He cupped your cheek forcing you to look at him again, "this isn't just a simple crush, is it?"
With that question, you felt the tears spilling all over again. He pulled you to lay down with him, holding you tight against him and letting you cry it all out. Somewhere between his low humming, and your quiet weeping, you fell asleep.
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When you blink the sleep away from your eyes the next morning, you're still entangled with Ji. He's literally wrapped around you like a koala.
You snort out a laugh and go to check the time on your phone. 7:30 am, entirely too early. You decide to try and fall back asleep, but last night's events rush back to you. Dread fills your chest, and your fight or flight kicks in. You're trying to gently escape Ji's hold, and not hyperventilate. The latter is more difficult but, since that man can sleep through anything, you were able to succeed.
You get changed back into your clothes, and leave a note for him saying that you're leaving and you'll text him when you get home. You can't bear to face Chan, let alone anyone else who might've heard you two last night. So you decide to skip out on the usual coffee and breakfast routine. You all have that tradition after a drunken night, but you know Ji will cover for you with everyone anyways.
You're rushing down the hall, wanting to grab your things and head for the door. Panic is starting to bubble over, and you're haphazardly covering yourself up to be unnoticeable. As you're slipping the mask over your face, a voice stops you.
"Morning... don't you want to stay for breakfast?"
You can't bring yourself to look at Chan, those words only setting the box of emotions in your heart on fire. You know he only means it in the way that it is an unbroken tradition. No matter how sick one of you gets, group breakfast is a must for recuperation. No one has skipped it in the months you've been doing it. We all take care of each other. But the idea makes your mouth bitter, because you wish it was just you two. Alone. Making breakfast the morning after earth shattering sex. And the fact he doesn't mean it in that way in the slightest makes tears prick back into your eyes.
Yes, you know you're being petty. You should stick it through for your friends. Take a page from Chan and act like nothing ever happened. You just can't find it inside you to care, you need to go home and lick your wounds before facing anyone here again. Call it childish, but you didn't care.
You're struggling to find words and just blurt out, "No thanks." And rush out the door, heading to the safety of your car.
You left Chan standing there. Unbeknownst to you, hurting just as much.
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Special thank you to @jeonginsleftcheek who encouraged me through finishing this! I had finished it, and then accidentally deleted the entire ending. But in turn, that was a good thing I think... because now there'll be a part 2! If you'd like to be added to a taglist, let me know and I'll start one! Feedback is always cherished, but be gentle pleeeeeeeease ♡
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cicide76536 · 1 year
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Plussize cosplayers: how do you make your clothing? How do you meaaure it, where do you find sewing patterns? How do you make them so you fit in them and how do you do it without bursting in tears?
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starchild--27 · 2 years
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maevesheart · 9 months
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only angel (2)
FINNICK ODAIR X FEM!READER
note: wasn’t originally planning on making a part two to this but it just seemed so unfinished??!?! and i love ruthless reader idk she’s a queen
summary: through your alliance with katniss, you and finnick rekindle some buried feelings.
wc: 5.2k
tw: violence, death, brutal!!reader, blood, allusions to forced prostitution
only angel (1)
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SEVEN YEARS EARLIER, THE 68TH HUNGER GAMES
Brutus and Enobaria sat in front of you and Mace, your district mate.
They reminded you of strategies that you had been taught your whole life, ensuring that as long as you two played into the Capitol’s hands, you’d get plenty of sponsors and come out alive.
Mace and you had never been close back home, but you saw him in the shopping centers, had some mutual friends. It was someone familiar, and even though your two mentors spent more time perfecting your wielding of knives and crocodile tears, you hoped Mace could somehow make it far in the games. Like you knew you would.
Enobaria and Brutus had introduced you to the various other Career Tributes, taking their time to butter up the other mentors, ensuring a ticket for your survival.
You were small compared to the other tributes, even the girl from Twelve was bigger than you.
But you trained, and you trained hard, showing off the various knife and sword tricks that had been engraved in your brain since you were a child.
Enobaria helped with your endurance, shocked by how fast you were. She had instructed you to not show that off to the other tributes, don’t give too much away.
After the private sessions with your mentors, you were stronger, faster, and more agile than Mace could even dream. You almost felt bad, the way Enobaria and Brutus were setting him up for death.
But, at the end of the day, only one can make it out alive.
Enobaria was strategic, determined for you to win. She instructed you to not show too many strengths in the private session with the Gamemakers, just enough to get a respectable score for someone from a Career District.
You followed her instructions to a tee, refusing to be one of the 23 fallen.
For the interviews, Ceasar laughed at your innocent comments and jokes, complimenting the head piece you wore, noting how it looked like a halo.
“Beautiful, like an Angel,” he smiled, the crowed cheering in agreement.
You giggled, smoothing down the uncomfortable golden dress they had sewn you into.
The crowd roared with your unwavering confidence, the arrogance paired with your baby-face and innocent smile was enough to send them into a fit of convivial.
It was just too easy.
The night before the games you had snuck out of the floor for Two, going up to the rooftop in hopes of having a moment to yourself.
You perched on the ledge, a small nightgown barely covering your shivering body.
You closed your eyes to relish in what could possibly be your last moments of peace, before being snapped from your trance by footsteps echoing.
You whipped around, teeth barring and senses on high alert. You were already acting like the wild animal Enobaria had been training you to be.
“Not in the arena just yet,” a smooth voice sounds out, a boy a few years older than you coming into view.
You recognized him as Finnick Odair. He had won a few years back, and was now returning as a mentor.
You ignored him, turning back to the outline of the Capitol.
He approached you slowly, leaning his body against the glass railing you were propped against.
You looked up to him, tired-eyes meeting his, somehow seemingly sparkling.
“Unfortunately,” you spoke, your mouth in a straight line. Enobaria had introduced you to him during the parade, but his tributes were not ally-material.
He laughed at your response. You stared at him, unamused.
“Feisty,” he smirked, watching you look away from him and back to the skyline.
“Not really in the mood to talk about my fate,” you said, his eyes still burning two holes into the side of your face.
His smile dropped slightly, having once been in your position himself.
He reminded himself you were only 15. A year older than he was when he won.
He had only won 3 years ago, and stood on this same rooftop. Looking out on the same city skyline.
Your peripheral vision caught him lean both his forearms onto the glass, shifting closer to you.
“Is it just as scary as it seems?” You ask. You were a child. A child that had been trained to hunt and kill. But deep down, you were just a scared kid. How would you kill all those people?
Finnick hums, acknowledging the same question that wracked his mind the nights before his games.
“It is,” he recognized your fear, but refused to give you false hope that it wouldn’t be as brutal as it truly is.
The words Enobaria had spoken to you earlier bounced around your brain, it’s just killing. Self-defense. All of it. Don’t be scared to kill someone who isn’t scared to kill you.
You let out a long breath, closing your eyes.
“I don’t want to die,”
It was quiet, but Finnick heard it, head perking up and turning to stare at you.
The role as a tribute was meant to bring great honor to someone from your district, but you were terrified. You were young, passionate. You had so much to give and so little time to give it all.
“Enobaria told me to hide my strengths, and I did. I’ll be able to kill them, once it comes down to it. But how will I live with myself?”
Finnick asked himself the same question everyday. How did he kill all those people? Sure, it was survival. Him or them. But how do you continue your life, pretending like you hadn’t murdered people on live national television?
“I—“ Finnick fell short, eyes still watching the side of your face.
“How do you cope with it all?” You finally turned to him, salty tears on your cheeks.
He knew you were preparing yourself for the inevitable. He had heard Enobaria boast about you, and had seen you in training. Other tributes would be frightened to get close to you.
He didn’t answer, swallowing thickly. You would soon understand, you would be in his position.
You choked out a sob, hands wrapping around your body.
He watched with wild eyes, before pulling you into his warm chest, head burrowing in his body.
You made no move to remove yourself from his body, and his arms were snug against your back.
“Kill as many as you can, as soon as you can. Then lay low, hunt. Don’t fall for any of that ally-bullshit.”
His voice was rushed, eyes filled with emotion. He felt for you, a scared child. He remembered his fear all too well.
You sniffled in his chest, hands balling at the thin fabric of his top.
And you listened to him.
In those next few hours, during the bloodbath, you killed two, both with knives to the chest. The Capitol citizens cheered as your face reflected the highest kill-count. You knew it was nothing to be proud of.
That next evening, while the rest of the Career pack slept, you stole the boy from One’s — Yves — backpack, shoving their weapons into it as quietly as possible.
Your small size came handy, being able to stealthily move around them, you were lucky the arena was a desert, sand not making a noise.
The girl from One — Aithon — began to lightly stir, and you knew it was now or never. Finnick’s words from the night before mixed with Enobaria’s, and that was all you needed to take a sword in each hand and take down the two tributes from One.
Their deaths were quick, the canons sounding out and Mace waking up, his laying figure looking up at you. Small but powerful.
You stood over his body, one foot on each of his arms, keeping him from reaching up to you.
His face twisted in confusion, looking over to the blood pouring from Yves and Aithon, each who had just been sleeping soundly next to him.
Your knife neared his face in milliseconds, and you had to force your arms down as he began to scream.
“I’m sorry,” was all you could whisper, guilt beginning to cloud your senses.
But you pushed past it, knowing you had to come out alive. No other option.
“Y/N! Please!”
And then there was silence.
He wasn’t anything special, but he was from home.
You held in tears as the canon sounded, running from the three as quickly as you could.
Whilst you hid behind one of the large cacti around the arena, Enobaria grinned as Capitol citizens celebrated her and you, her star tribute.
Finnick watched, heart tugging, knowing that he had encouraged the killings, he had told you to trust no one. And you had listened.
And from then on, you became the Capitol’s angel, their winged symbol of purity, despite the blood and deaths of many on your hands.
When Snow placed the crown on your head, you smiled, naively, and thanked the crowd. Thanked them for their donations, and their belief in you from the beginning.
But that’s all you were to them: a spectacle. A little girl who killed five in one day, a little girl who’s life had been dedicated to these games, to win. A little girl who would never get her purity back, never get to sleep without seeing Mace’s terrified face before she killed him.
He didn’t deserve it, none of them did. But it was life or death. And there was no way you were going to die.
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PRESENT DAY, THE THIRD QUARTER QUELL
Your group continued up to the Cornucopia, you and Finnick taking the tail.
Peeta and Finnick drew a map in the dark sand, you leaned against the side of the metal Cornucopia, Johanna plopping down next to you, and Katniss on your other side.
It all happened in a blur. One second, Wiress was singing her song about a mouse and the clock, and the next, Gloss was on top of her, knife straight into the heart.
Katniss’s arrow struck him, you grabbing your swords to get Cashmere who was standing behind him.
Finnick rushed after you. He knew you could take Cashmere, but what happened if Brutus appeared? Brutus had never been kind to you, and it was doubtful he would start now.
Your sword stuck Cashmere in the leg, and she screamed, falling onto the little amount of ground that the middle sector offered.
She turned over, knife in her left hand, grazing your ankle slightly. Luckily your stylist had dressed you in thicker socks; she had been an absolute idiot about most things, but at least she had your back in the arena.
Your thigh was still slightly burning with pain, but you pushed through it, sticking both your swords into Cashmere’s chest, a strangled gasp leaving her lips and her head falling back against the ground.
The canon sounded out, but you continued to pull your swords out and drive them back into her chest, more blood pouring out.
You were grunting now, mind hyper-aware of your actions, but refusing to stop.
You kept driving the sharp tools into her chest, her body slightly moving up when you retracted the metal, and then caving in as you pushed them back.
You weren’t going to die; you refused to.
Hands were on your shoulders, pulling you backwards, and you turned, swinging.
Finnick let go and backed away, hands held up. He knew you’d never hurt him, but once you’re in the killing mindset, it’s very hard to break it.
You dropped the weapons to your side, a long breath leaving your lips that you hadn’t realized you’d be holding in.
Finnick pulled you along with him, hand on your side as he brought you over to everyone else.
All of them were staring with wide eyes — besides Johanna of course.
Katniss knew you were brutal, but she didn’t realize how quickly you did turn into the angel of death. One second you were smiling, laughing at something Johanna had said.
Then your eyes were lit with a fire, teeth out, and running, faster than Katniss had ever seen someone move.
She had watched you kill Cashmere in seconds, continuing to drive the weapons into her, sounds of exasperation leaving your lips but you were unrelenting.
You felt like you were fifteen again, scared and angry, brutal to anyone who crossed your path. Your swordsmanship was uncanny, and Katniss dreaded the moment that she had to try and kill you.
And then the Cornucopia began to spin, extremely fast. You grabbed onto Finnick, a sword sucking down into the water, your other tight in the palm of your opposite hand.
You and Finnick fell to the ground, grabbing at the hard rocks to keep from flying to the water.
And then you heard Peeta scream Katniss’s name, and the two of you both yelled a loud, “shit!”
You pushed off the hard ground, crawling to the side of the island, hand reaching down to grab Johanna’s axe and try to hoist the two of them up.
You grunted, holding onto a small portion of the metal that wasn’t sharp. Your feet dug into the ground, sword shoved into the rock to keep you grounded.
You watched as Katniss went flying down, and then Johanna was on top of you, the two of you gasping for oxygen when the spinning stopped.
You and Johanna were back on your feet, rushing to help Katniss out of the water.
You all made your way back onto the sand, where it was relatively safe.
You discussed strategy, your fingers tracing different shapes into Finnick’s thigh.
“Who’s left then?” Katniss asked, eyes flickering between you and Johanna, the two of you having a conversation with your eyes.
“Brutus and Chaff, I think that’s all,” Peeta announced, all eyes shifting to you at the mention of your district-mate.
“I get Brutus,” you spoke clearly, eyes hard.
“Y/N…” Finnick spoke, hand smoothing down your arm.
“Just… I know him. I can handle it, I swear,”
He had helped train you, of course you would know his methods like the back of your hand. You had been seeking revenge for years, waiting for the day you could get him back.
What had the games done to you? Fantasizing about killing someone?
And then you were back there, back to the moment your life really ended.
You were dressed in clothes Snow had picked out, a hairstyle Snow had picked out, makeup Snow had picked out. You were his newest doll, malleable to his every demand.
It was your victory tour, and Enobaria and Brutus were accompanying you, helping you with speeches and coming to terms with your new life as a Capitol pet.
You were finishing up in the Capitol, the final destination. Snow had laid out his conditions for you: your pride and body now belonged to the Capitol, and with it, they could do what they pleased. Your company came with a high price.
He had threatened your family back in Two, describing in detail what would become of them if you didn’t comply with his wishes.
You had gone back to the train and told Enobaria and Brutus, eyes spilling hot tears when Enobaria pulled you into her arms, hands stroking your hair. At least she was kind.
Brutus, however, was not.
His boisterous laugh rang off the walls of the train, your eyes peeking out from Enobaria’s embrace to glare at him.
“Let me know when you start, sweetheart,” he smirked, a scowl overtaking your features.
You had been waiting to get him back, to show him that weren’t a little slave for his disposal. Finnick understood your rage, more than any other person could.
He wanted to kill Brutus just as badly as you did.
No one else asked any questions, and for that you were grateful.
And then the screaming started, and you jumped to your feet, eyes frantic and scanning the area.
Whoever it was, they were screaming for Katniss, and rather brutally as well.
And off she took. You were the fastest, so you caught her first, arms around her shoulders to steady her, but she kept moving, screaming back to the voice.
She stopped abruptly, and shot an arrow into a large black bird that was flying over your heads.
The screaming stopped immediately. And then it began again, this time, it was the voice of Mace. And you felt the blood drain from your entire body, legs suddenly shaking and threatening to go out.
The words he had screamed to you before you had slit his throat were wrapping around your body, swallowing you whole.
“Y/N! Please! Y/N!” You were running then, the screaming getting louder and louder, tears streaming down your face as you tried to escape it; the horror that would haunt you forever.
“It’s not real, they’re jabberjays!” Katniss assured you, running behind you, trying to catch up.
You saw Finnick and Johanna’s faces ahead through your blurry vision, and you sped up, Finnick’s arms wide for you to run into.
But it was a force field, and you collided right into it, falling to the ground in a heap of tears and painful memories.
You covered your ears, head digging into the ground to stop the noise, but it wouldn’t stop. You wailed, and Finnick was hitting the force field, which he was standing on the direct other side, but there was no avail.
He was screaming for you, to look at him, listen to his voice. But the field was soundproof, and he had to watch with a heavy heart as you sobbed, the sounds of the person you betrayed all those years ago the only thing you could focus on.
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Finnick’s hands were all over you, smoothing down your hair, checking your face, helping you stand.
Peeta was doing the same with Katniss, the both of you having tear-stains down your cheeks and dirt smudged into your cheeks.
You were frozen solid, eyes big and wide, legs slightly shaking. You had never felt worse about something than what you did to Mace that dreadful night. His screams haunted your dreams, and to have the Gamemakers play into that weakness reminded you just who the real enemy is.
“Y/N, look at me,” Finnick’s hands were on the sides of your face, pulling you closer to his protective figure.
“It wasn’t real. It wasn’t him,” he shook his head lightly, your lips still quivering from fear.
You could only muster the strength to simply nod, telling him that you knew, but the Gamemakers were cruel, so cruel, and they had hit you right where it hurt.
Just as you were beginning to regain your usual automatic-kill mindset, a small box flew down, straight into your hands.
Everyone gathered around you, curious as to what could’ve been sent.
You knew Enobaria would have your back, and considering the sponsors this year were based upon what you had left over from your games, you were lucky. You had a large pot of donations under your name, not needing much assistance when you were in your first games.
You screwed off the top, being met with a small vile of Crave Cure, the very concoction that she had sent you during your games. It came with a note reading: remember who the real enemy is. I’m always rooting for you. - Baria
That assured you of Enobaria’s stance, likely scheming with Haymitch and Plutarch behind the scenes, ensuring your protection by Thirteen.
Finnick smiled next to you, Johanna calling out with happiness.
“Finally!” Johanna cheered, axe thrust into the air.
You even broke a smile, suddenly distracted from the traumatic experience you had just endured.
You looked up, seeing the confused looks on Katniss and Peeta’s faces.
They would’ve never heard of Crave Cure, it was the most expensive thing a mentor could send their tribute, and required many sponsors. It was usually only sent to the Careers, both you and Finnick had received it during your games.
“Crave Cure,” you spoke, Katniss’s eyes meeting yours.
“One drop on your tongue and it cures hunger for 12 hours,” you smiled to them, picking up the vile.
“Enobaria is a saint,” Johanna spoke, watching as you dropped a tiny bit of the brown liquid onto your tongue, a content sigh escaping your lips.
Beetee went next, then Finnick and Johanna.
Katniss and Peeta stood awkwardly to the side, not knowing to approach or not.
“Oh, enough of that! We’re allied, aren’t we? Take a drop,” you urged, placing the vile into her hands.
Peeta nodded, and that seemed to be all the convincing Katniss needed before mimicking your action and gagging when she tasted the fluid.
You laughed at her expression, a light-hearted tease. “Not the best, but it does do its job,”
You figured you had really won her trust, considering how she walked next to you during the hike to the big tree.
The two of you talked about your families back home. You complimented her dedication, to protect her little sister.
She had killed your Cato and Clove; the two you had spent hours coaching, assuring they’d be okay in the end. Words you had needed so badly during your games.
Through talking with Katniss, you realized no one deserved to win as much as she did. She was selfless, willing to sacrifice herself for both her sister and Peeta, placing herself as a protector, not a victim.
And then the peace you had all been building crashed down, Katniss suddenly retreating from the trust you all had built after Beetee offered she go with you and Johanna.
“Why can’t Johanna and Y/N go? I’ll protect you with Peeta,” she spoke, and you met Finnick’s gaze. You read the fear in his eyes, knowing this the was now or never moment.
“Katniss,” you spoke, hands resting on her shoulders.
“You know who the true enemy is,” you whispered, holding her intense eye-contact.
Her eyes softened at your words, everything seemingly clicking into place. With a nod, you grabbed her hand, and pulled her with you and Johanna.
A look over your shoulder to Finnick, and a nod. Your eyes said it all: I love you. I’ll see you soon, once we are safe and out of the Capitol’s hands.
You and Johanna halted your movements, stopping Katniss as you did.
“Stay down,” Johanna instructed Katniss, grabbing her arm.
“What-“ Katniss was about to scream, and you could not let that happen.
You grabbed her face with your hands, eyes frantic for her faith.
“You can trust us,” you whispered, barely loud enough for the cameras to pick up on.
But the raw emotion in your eyes calmed Katniss, giving Johanna the opportunity to cut the tracker out, Katniss’s arm beginning to bleed heavily.
“It’s alright,” you soothed her, your arm out to Johanna, waiting for the inevitable sear of pain.
And then it came, and you placed your body over Katniss’s not allowing her to get up and try to attack.
But then you spotted Brutus over the rock, his hard eyes staring straight into yours.
“Y/N,” Johanna warned, watching the familiar fire begin to brew.
You were up in seconds, sword in one hand, knife in the other, running up the rocky hill. The pain in your arm was masked by the rush of adrenaline you ran high off, killing spree — if you will.
Johanna grunted in anger, but she knew not to expect anything different from you.
“Do not move,” she instructed Katniss, picking up her axe to follow you.
You had reached Brutus quickly, pouncing onto his back and driving your sword straight through his abdomen.
He cried out in pain, blood soon coating your legs that wrapped around his waist.
You pulled the sword out, taking the knife to his neck. He was dead in seconds, the familiar canon sounding throughout the arena.
After registering what you had done, images of Katniss flooded your mind and you internally cursed yourself, rushing back to the spot you had left her and Johanna.
Johanna was back to your side, but Katniss was no where to be seen.
“Fuck!” You cursed, sprinting back towards the tree where Beetee, Finnick, and Peeta were.
She had likely gone back to protect Peeta and kill Finnick, and you were not about to let that happen.
Johanna tried to keep up with you; but even with a gushing arm and slit leg, you were fast. Much faster than anyone else.
“Finnick!” You screamed, feet pounding against the hard ground, propelling you towards the tree, where you watched Katniss aim her arrow straight at Finnick’s head.
Beetee was on the ground, and you crouched, feeling for his pulse. His heart was still beating and you hovered over him protectively, in case Katniss decided to turn around and fire at you too. Which seemed very likely.
You watched as Finnick said something to Katniss, obviously resonating with her, the bow slightly lowering.
“Johanna! Give me your arm!” You swung around, panic-struck and searching for the familiar face.
And you saw her a few feet below, trying to climb the vines you had mounted with ease.
You looked between Finnick and her, torn as to which to try and protect. You knew Finnick would hold his own, so you turned back around and began to move for Johanna, quick feet avoiding possible injuries.
But just as you were in grabbing-distance of her, Finnick’s voice rang out, screaming, “Get away from that tree!”
A crack of something echoed around you, and you turned wildly, trying to figure out what had just happened.
Then you understand what Finnick had meant, a loud crack of lightening rained down and sent you flying, reaching for Johanna as you flew past her, her terrified eyes meeting yours.
The last thing you remembered was being pulled up into the air by a large claw, head and limbs limp as you were hoisted up; sword still secure in your palm, a protection habit you had picked up since your games. You always needed to be armed, after all, life was the arena.
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You awoke to the sound of a heart monitor, steady beeping lightly calming your high-alert nerves.
You winced sitting up, large bandages wrapped around your forearm and thigh.
You inspected your surroundings, two empty mats in front of you, and Katniss sleeping to your left.
You stood, hushed voices on the other side of the door that reached the ceiling of the craft you were on.
You looked for a weapon of sorts, not willing to go in unarmed. On the other side of the empty room was your sword, glimmering and coated in blood.
You walked over to it, legs sore and aching, the familiar metal calming against your palm.
The door immediately opened as you approached it, Haymitch and Plutarch’s widening as they spotted your weapon of choice clutched in your ruthless hands.
But it dropped to the floor with a loud clatter when your tired eyes met Finnick’s, a relieved smile coming over your features.
You rushed to him, throwing yourself into his arms. His lips met yours halfway, melting into his strong hold around your body.
The two of you fit together perfectly, like you had been made in the same mold.
Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him tighter to your already close bodies.
You poured all your pent up feelings into the kiss, all the feelings you had suppressed since the fight that had ended your relationship.
It was the most relaxed you had been in the whole week, since your name was plucked from the bowl of living victors.
His lips moved against yours as he squeezed your hips, hands feeling everything they could, to ensure that it was in fact you, and you were alive and safe in front of him.
You pulled a part, a grin across your small face.
He smiled back, but your bliss was interrupted from the clearing of a throat behind you. You spun around, eyes meeting the expectant ones of Haymitch, Plutarch, and Beetee.
The look on your face said it all. And Haymitch nodded, validating all the thoughts that had been running through your head.
You were safe, headed for the secret hideout of Thirteen. All was okay.
You almost began to laugh thinking about how the Capitol would react, their Angel and Darling being two of the biggest conspirators in a rebellion. How ironic.
And Katniss was on the ship, you had successfully carried out your tasks.
“Where’s Johanna?” You asked, a smile still dotting your face.
Finnick’s composure broke, and your heart dropped, realizing the obvious.
“No, no, no, no,” you began to back away, spine hitting the hard metal of the table.
“I went after Brutus, I didn’t cut the tracker… fuck! Oh my god, Finnick, oh god,” you began to dry-heave, accepting her capture as your fault.
Finnick’s hands were on your biceps, steadying you and pulling you back into his chest.
“Johanna and Peeta are in the Capitol,” Plutarch spoke, your worst fears being confirmed.
“It’s all my fault,” you groaned, head in your hands. You had killed, hunted, and tortured. But the idea of a friend’s death being on your hands hurt more than any of those ever did.
Haymitch spoke reassuring words behind you, but Finnick’s hold and the idea of betraying Johanna was all you could focus on.
How would she forgive you? Was she alive? How would you ever cope if she wasn’t, and it was all your fault? Of course, you let the murderer take over, and went after Brutus.
Finnick’s arms soothed down your back, keeping your grounded as you were flooded with grief, with the heavy weight of betrayal.
Johanna and you were close friends, you were supposed to protect each other in the games. She had protected you, always by your side, and you neglected to do the same.
“We’re going to try and rescue them as soon as we can,” Haymitch said, even though you all knew that might be an impossible task.
And then Finnick slipped his hand into yours, fingers curling around yours and softly rubbing your knuckles.
You composed yourself, closing your eyes as you took in a deep breath, regaining focus on just your interlocked hands. Finnick always knew how to relax you.
All you had wanted initially was to get out of this quarter quell alive, to return home to your big mansion and family. To hug them again, to prove to the Capitol that they could take everything from you, but they couldn’t kill you.
But now, you realized that all had been in vain. Where you really belonged was here, holding hands with Finnick, discussing how you were going to break your friends from the Capitol’s mean grip.
You’d die for him, for them. You’d flap your wings once more to ensure they’d all live.
When Katniss first volunteered for Primrose, you hadn’t understood how she would sacrifice her life for another.
But now you knew, and you knew you’d do it too.
You finally had something to live for, someone you loved, who understood all that you had gone through better than anyone else.
Life was the arena, and if it came down to it, you knew the angel would sacrifice herself for the darling.
**
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