#dissociative alliance | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

aphroditesmoon · 2 years

Text

Replaceable (part ii)

jacaerys velaryon X reader

part 1 part 3

summary: after your twin sister decides to run away weeks from her wedding to the prince and heir to the throne, Jacaerys Velaryon, you are left with no choice but to step in her place.

tags: @m4nd0l0r @highexpectationsgurl @lady-ashfade @lilithskywalker 💌

A/N: thank you for the love in chapter one! it makes me happy people enjoy my writing<3

°°°°

Jace holds no resentment to you. But he can't deny the new arrangement is definitely an inconvenience to his comfort. He knew long ago your sister was not even a bit interested in him, they had form a silent agreement of treating eachother with respect and obliged decency when needed. Though he had always dreamed of marrying for love as a boy, he knows better now. His duty is to his family, and sometimes that duty involves sacrificing childish dreams.

If it were in a different situation, he'd be more intrigued to get to know you, but right now his priorities us securing the alliance for the worst times to come. He had lost his brother nearly a month ago during his trip to Winterfell. Distracted by new born friendships and tours while his brother had died in a way he can't imagine. His eyes only see red and his heart only beats to take the green's. Nothing else can matter at this moment. He will not allow them to take more from him.

He wishes he can skip the breakfast date with lady [name] that his mother arranged for him, but he supposed he'll indulge her. She had claim to worry that he'll lose himself in the midst of all the battle planning and dissociating from his grief, and though he kept reassuring her he's fine, he knew deep down she was right, these days he doesn't recognize himself much.

He is but a vessel of painful memories and regrets. But for his mother's pain is greater than his, he would do this small favor to make her happy.

His betrothed was already seated by the small table by the garden, her breakfast half eaten and tea still full. He feared he'd offend her by arriving late, but it seems she was too distracted by the book she's reading to even notice his arrival. Too deep into the book she can't even finish her food.

"Not a tea person?" He greets her with a question, nudging his head towards her full cup. She flinched at his voice immediately placing the book by her side, seeming embarrassed.

"My prince, apologies, I didn't see you" you stuttered out, trying to hide your nervousness with a rushed smile forming on your face.

"oh no it's fine, it's I who should apologize, I haven't made you wait for too long have I?" He asks as he pulls his seat back to sit on.

"of course not my prince, I wasn't that much on time either" your sweet smile was contagious. An accessory to every response and reaction you had. His lips can't help but pull wide in a grin when you look at him like that, It was the sort of smile so honest and kind only a person with such tender way of being and honesty could give, he's sure if it.

He broke his stare and his stupid grin immediately after a whole minute of gawking at her until she's obviously uncomfortable and starts to glance around fiddling with her dress .

oh that's right, tell yourself to remember your priorities than not an hour later you're inches away from your betrothed staring at her like a child eyeing lemon tarts.

"I- um, you haven't answered my question" he immediately starts to put an end to the embarassing silence. She looks at him in confusion, "-question?". "Your tea, it is untouched, do you prefer milk tea, or something else?" he inquires gently and as realization dawned, she lets out a small laugh. "I actually love tea, milk tea, this tea or whatever, It seems I was too preoccupied by my book, the tea seems lost to my mind."

He nods understandingly at this. "I see, and what is it you're reading, if you don't mind?" His heart flutters as your smile brightens and you shook your head at him, "course' not my prince, it's um, well it's not educational I'd say, just a classic I picked up at the library, a work of fiction revolving themes of dragon lore, old fairy tales."

He gives her a look of surprise, "oh are you more of a lover of fiction? I'd expect you to be more interested in historical books, from our last conversation"

"don't get me wrong, I do read historical and philosophical books, though a girl can appreciate old archives of real events while still preferring a different reality, can't she?

That had him smiling up to his ear, as if it wasn't already big enough. He liked how she thinks. She was deeply reserved and shy, yet when her excitement got the best of her, you can see how her mind is a room if wonders, a room he wishes to have the key to.

A wonderful conversationalist. An easy person to talk to, that is all. Don't get ahead of yourself Jace, you barely know her. he reminds himself.

"A good point, one I definitely agree with. You seem so learned in works of literature, I must have you recommend me something" A trick he learned to help ease down barriers of a person, which is to show them you care for their inputs and opinions, and he did care as he asks her this.

Before she can respond, a guard appears behind them giving a slow nod of respect.

"My prince, my lady, I apologize for the interruption, but the queen has requested your presence my prince." he states his intentions.

Jace gives a slow nod and thanked him. The word of their alliance with the Starks must have arrived, having to cut his visit short to Winterfell due to the loss of his brother, his new friend Cregan Stark has promised to send word via raven of his confirmation if loyalty to the Queen Rhaenyra and his support of troops.

He turned to lady [name] giving a tight smile and a regretful look having to leave too soon. "it's fine my prince, we can continue our conversation later on, it's been pleasant to talk to you." You assure him accompanied by your regular warm smile. He couldn't help but reach his hand to hold yours as he gets up. His fingers hold yours and as he lifts you hand to his lips your breath caught and your legs feels like it'd fail you any second now.

He releases your hand finally, not before softly brushing his fingers on your palm as if learning every lines of it, making you redder than before.

He opens his mouth as if to say something but closed it back as he options to nodding politely with his lips upturned as he leaves you to the gardens towards his mother, and you to your fantasies and fast beating heart.

°°°

Jace was probably one of the only company you've had these past weeks that didn't annoy you. The ladies of the court had avoided you at first, labelling you as your sister's keeper, a replacement bride. You didn't care, as long as they weren't bothering you. But these past few days they've been getting bolder to make your acquaintance, often butting in during your reading hours trying to dig out private information of your affairs with the prince, it is irritating like a fly you can't kill no matter how hard you try to slap them off.

You were polite of course, trying to make it obvious you do not wish to indulge them by giving short straight answers, yet they are insistent.

"I do feel pity for you my lady, though it seems lucky to be betrothed to a prince, being a second option sounds humiliating at best, would you had chosen another if you could?" Asks Lady Noura, a pale looking red head whose mouth never cease to stop flowing out words it seems.

"Why should I feel humiliation for a mess j didn't make?" you snapped. It seems she tires not of trying to make you feel inferior.

"Oh-yes yes of course, I didn't mean it like that of course my lady, I apologize for any offense- it's just, I can't imagine being forced on a responsibility that shouldn't have been yours, to have to take your sister's place and her burden along side, such a heavy pressure to carry the title future queen, isn't it?" I am not worthy to be queen is what she means.

"We do not choose our fates and responsibilities lady Noura, I would not dishonor my family further with silly doubts" You speak out confidently.

"ah, of course my lady, wisely spoken. Though dare I ask, is it true the wedding might not happen at all? whispers have said the prince is asking for it to be called off, I wonder if a stronger alliance is being considered."

Her planned question took you by suprise, so this was the bomb she had been waiting to drop? and drop it did.

What lies has been spreading through the court, and are they even lies?

Her false worried eyes starts to turn into a look of deviousness and a small smile seems to form on her lips, one she can't help from hiding, seeing your shocked expression.

She raised her eyebrows as if indicating she waits for your answer.

"-I, I know not of what rumours you speak of Lady Noura. Though I'm sure truthful or not, the Queen and her court knows best of what needs to be done to secure their throne." Your breath was quickening and if you don't leave immediately you might just burst into pieces in front of this spiteful cunt of woman.

And oh how you hate to look weak in front of those undeserving to witness your vulnerability.

Immediately excusing yourself, you tried swiftly walking to your room without making it obvious you'd leap through the door of your chambers if you could. Tears flows down as you shut the door close.

What was there to expect? You are nothing more but a second daughter in your family, There are plenty of other options that are much more beneficial to the royal family.

Perhaps she was lying, and you judge yourself harsher than everyone else. Or perhaps the small voice down your chest were right all along, and that your fate in life is to be as useless as you are unloveable.

A nothing special of a sort type of girl, easily replaceable.

#jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys targaryen #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jace velaryon x reader #jace velaryon #hotd x reader #house of the dragon #game of thrones #jace targaryen x reader #house of the dragon x reader

936 notes · View notes

narabea06 · 1 month

Note

Any insane chance that you have any general Jeff headcanons brewing up to yap about? 🤨🤨🤨

Sorry this took so long!!! This is only the tip of the iceberg of my Jeff hcs ngl 😭

Jeff the Killer Headcanons -

TW: Suicide Attempt, Implied Abuse, Bullying, Hospital + medicine talk, Manipulation, Talk of delusions, Murder, Toxic Relationship, Dissociation

Clockwork and Jeff both did a lot of sports and clubs in middle school and highschool, and would often get picked up together by Lyra or Liu. Jeff did it because his parents put him in a lot of activities to put a lot of pressure on him to have many talents and to be good at something so that he would get a scholarship, despite him hating the activities and never having free time because of it. These activities included hockey, soccer, STEM club, and karate. The only one Jeff actually enjoyed was karate due to it helping him get his anger out.

The incident was not Randy and Keith lighting him on fire. Instead, Jeff was relentlessly bullied by Randy for years, and was generally terrorized by people at school, that he tried to kill himself by starting a fire in his room when nobody was home. He left his suicide note in the mailbox, and it explained in detail what Randy, Keith, and Troy did to him and how they hurt him and Liu. While Jeff survived the attempt, his mother decided to publish the note in the newspaper, and everyone at school read it. Randy and Keith then actively got blamed for Jeff's attempt and everything that came after. Granted they deserved it for what they did, but it still was not a great experience for them.

When Jeff came home from the hospital, he barely spoke for the first week or so due to both his declined mental state and a side effect of the painkillers.

Margaret, Jeff's mother, was a infamous journalist who had many connections, and actually often lied and blackmailed her way to the top. She also often would write and publish about her sons, practically constantly sharing any personal moment they chose to share with her like she was a family vlogger. Because of all this, she actually ended up publishing Jeff's suicide note, exposing him to their entire state.

He's a manipulative bastard, but doesn't realize he is. He truly believes what he did to Nina, Liu, and Jane was for the best and was helping them. He doesn't have a good mental state in the slightest, but refuses to accept help because he believes he doesn't need it.

He still actively despises Randy and Keith. Hell, at one point when Randy and Keith were trying to go about their lives and move on, Jeff came after them and attacked Keith. He survived, but Jeff said he wouldn't let either of them live while he himself is still alive. Keith and Randy started staying with Troy and Jesse after that.

The only specific targets Jeff has are Randy, Troy, Keith, and Jesse. The rest are at random, though he steers clear from the Alliance, EJ, Lulu, the kids, Sadie, and Toby.

Jeff has ADHD, though his parents refused to believe he wasn't neurotypical, and would refuse to take him to therapy until after the incident, leading to Liu having to do the research for him.

Jeff has anger issues, control issues, a bit of a god complex, as well as a slight victim complex.

Jeff is terrible at social cues and body language.

Jeff often sharpens his knife as a stim during the times when he's deep in thought.

Jeff has big main character syndrome, and constantly believes that everything revolves around him.

Jeff absolutely adores copycat killers of himself, since he loves the idea of people looking up to him and his “work”, and seeing his crimes as he does, like art. He sees copycats almost like people just inspired by him, and even sometimes will stalk people and encourage them to follow in his footsteps to go down the path he did.

Jeff has had so many times where he will say stupid shit, and Liu has to get him out of trouble because he never watches his mouth. Due to Jeff having no self preservation nor any sense of consequences, they never end up realizing when to back down though.

Jeff is very impulsive and will do stupid shit a lot because "why not". As long as it's fun and doesn't include him eating or drinking anything, he'll do it. He has terrible self control.

He truly believes him and Jane are still friends and that he isn't in the wrong for killing their parents, because in the moment, Jeff made themself believe Jane's family was abusive. Jane actively expresses to him that she hates him, but Jeff just thinks she's joking around.

Jane has kicked Jeff in the shin with her heels too many times to count to the point where his heels are super bruised.

Ben and Jeff are frenemies, and BEN kinda sees Jeff almost like a weird cousin she doesn’t want to hang out with. She does enjoy Jeff's company though, and is happy to have a friend.

One of his best friends is Killing Kate. They hang out every Wednesday to do karaoke.

Jeff used to somewhat be in a relationship with Nina for a few months after the incident, though neither had actually verbally expressed that the relationship was anything romantic, leading to Nina believing they were in love and Jeff thinking that they were nothing serious and Nina would never be his top priority. Nina, heartbroken, left him after hearing him say to her face too many times that if she died, he wouldn't care.

Jeff learned Spanish from Nina. He still has a bit of a struggle with it though, and he always pronounces the words in the whitest way possible. Nina would tease him about his pronunciations a lot.

Jeff loves the Nightmare Before Christmas movies, and once dressed as Jack for Halloween pre-incident, and convinced Nina to dress as Sally with him.

Jeff can very easily lucid dream. He doesn't always know why, but usually when he's dreaming, he always realizes it's a dream rather quickly, and almost always, he will just shut down the dream he was in and start something else. Because of all of this, he has become unaware what is reality or not, and constantly just thinks almost everything is a dream. Most of the time he spends with his friends he assumes is a dream because he doesn't think in reality they would want anything to do with him. This is also why he's so careless about life, because he doesn't know whether or not anything is real or not and if he'll have real consequences, especially since he's even had times where he did actually try to do the right thing and make things right between everyone, only to realize that it was just a dream and he didn't accomplish anything.

Jeff talks in his sleep a lot. This has woken up and scared the hell out of anyone he shares a room with. Ben even has a couple videos of Jeff talking in his sleep on her phone.

Jeff secretly has a pet frog named Georgie. It chills in a pond behind the Refuge, and has a specific symbol on its back that Jeff uses to recognize it.

He has a huge fear of clowns, and absolutely hates the IT movies. A couple gag gifts that Liu got him growing up because of this were Pennywise merch. Jeff stuffed them all in a box in his closet never to be seen again.

He was a big music theater fan, though he was never able to actually take theater in highschool due to his parents seeing the class as useless.

Jeff often wears an eye mask when he sleeps so he can rest his eyes properly.

21 notes · View notes

aquanova99 · 1 year

Text

Haunted (Cato x Reader)

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Part 7

Prev <<

Next >>

A/N: Im sorry its taken so long I am trying to wrap up book one but how do I change it and leave out unnecessary details... I'm working on it

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Cato’s POV

The room was tense. Seeder’s gift was sure to draw some attention. Rumors swirled around Rue’s death sparking anger in District 11. While the victors had become friendly throughout the years of mentoring bringing them together it wasn’t a common theme to grieve over other tributes like this. From the same district, maybe. Then again, alliances did not normally cross over between more than one district outside of District 1,2, and 4. The mentors whispered what her actions would bring upon them. Haymitch had been in and out of the shared viewing room. Only talking to Chaff a handful of times.

You’d been largely silent focused on the screen anytime y/n came into view. She was stone faced the morning after Rue and Marvels death. To someone from the capitol it could seem that she was simply waiting for the next canon to go off, but it would have been a stretch. Anyone with half a brain could see she was in a catatonic state. You wondered if Thresh really believed Marvel had gotten help in his endeavor with Rue. Likely not, Thresh seemed shaken up enough that he seemed the type to avenge his tiny friend and from what you saw he had made his way to the part of the arena covered in a field of wheat. If he knew about the dangers it was as a good place as any, you certainly wouldn’t have chased him out there.

Cashmere decides to sit next to you, clearing her throat and wakes you out of trance you seem to keep finding yourself in. She doesn’t speak to anyone in particular, but you know she’s directing every word to you. “She’s different, that one. We will have to help her when she comes back.”

“Don’t all tributes get that, mentors for the first year.”

“Hm? I don’t know what you mean, I must have been thinking out loud. It would be a shame if she couldn’t dig herself out. We don’t want her to go through the same thing Annie did.” With that Cashmere floated away. Annie. The girl from 4. She had come out a little more messed up than the usual victor, dissociating completely in certain situations as if she was somewhere totally different. Finnick had taken upon himself to help her get through her spells, and as much as he could try and hide the pair had grown dependent on the other, completely and totally in love with each other. It was easy to ignore everything when they were home, but Finnick was often called away and playing the role that was forced on anyone who had received help from sponsors. Even those who got nothing could be forced into keeping some annoying capitol citizen ‘company.’ You remember it had only been a month after you had gotten out of your own games. You still hadn’t left the arena, I guess that was your own fault for finishing so quickly, it never processed right. The woman…you couldn’t remember her name, you barely remembered her face, all you saw was a threat. You’d broken her arm the second she touched you, and then…well its lucky there were more people hanging around because before you knew it you were unconscious.

Killer Cato. The only good that came from that name is that until Brutus and Enobaria deemed you safe you were lucky enough to avoid traveling back and forth to the capitol. Most of the time the tributes were allowed to live their life as victor peacefully until the victory tour, most of the time. Some victors like the morphlings or the ones who weren’t conventionally attractive or maybe the ones who got lucky and survived the games on their own were left to their own devices. Most of tributes from 1, 2, and 4 were asked and more often than not told to pay a visit to the generous people of the capitol more quickly than the others. Unless she did something unappealing to the viewers y/n would probably suffer the same fate. Cashmere’s words soothed you, maybe there would be a way to keep her away from that life for now. Seeing as she risked her life for family, or something close to family, its likely the threats the capitol offered would force her to comply…These feelings were weird. You didn’t understand why it mattered. If she won you would only see her once a year once you were both mentors. Out of all of the tributes, she seemed like she had the best head to win, that’s all. Right? Maybe you can get some use out of the training center.

Hours go by, and it’s a slow day. The gamemakers are going to have to do something to pull them together, Y/ns eyes are hollow as she sits by the fire, seemingly waiting for anyone to come find her. They don’t. Arioch and Clove wont be lured by something so similar to what destroyed their supplies and killed an ally, not yet anyway. You wonder if Clove and Arioch had realized he had been ready to turn against Arioch, if they did neither showed any sign of doubting him. The red-headed girl is still spying on them, waiting for an opportune time to try and steal whatever foods been handed to them by the sponsors. Clove had been keeping Arioch calm, but he was getting angry. Lyme was only giving what was absolutely necessary for them to eat. She worried they wouldn’t be able to ration it properly and judging by how annoyed Arioch was getting she was right. It was clear he was fond enough of Clove that he knocked it off whenever she would say something about it but she had her fair share of complaints. You were shocked no one had gone where Thresh was hidden, it seemed to be abundant with food. If you knew about it anyway, which you were almost positive your tributes wouldn’t. The academy you trained for the games had classes on interviews, deadly snares and traps, and the biggest majority fighting, there were also classes for food and foraging but it was never forced. And realistically, you never needed to know about that, seeing as there was always a steady stream of sponsors willing to bet on your districts training.

Then finally as everyone is ready or already retiring to their rooms for a night of unrestful sleep, the trumpets sound. Haymitch sits back down in a spot next to you, a his hands clenched together as he rests his arms on his knees. Not even looking at his screen. You realize he knows what is about to happen, what the announcement will be. And you couldn’t have been more wrong. Claudius Templesmith has an announcement. You expected a feast, something to give Peeta a chance but no, the words ‘rule change’ freezes every victor left in the room. You realize why Haymitch has been largely absent today. You realize Peeta’s one sided pining has worked, and you also realize that maybe, it wasn’t so one sided, she’s teary eyed as his name leaves her lips the second the announcement is over.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Y/ns POV

You were about to be sick again. You had never felt so conflicted. You should wait until morning. Every instinct screamed at you to not be so reckless. You couldn’t sit still, couldn’t sleep. You had your night glasses anyway…the ones Thresh had told you about. Thresh. The one who could have had an ally had you been able to save Rue. Rue. The young girl who could have made it if she hadn’t teamed up with you. Really it was the tributes of District 11 that originally urge your feet forward. You felt a guilt begin overing you under a weight that seemed to be getting heavier to shake off the more you allowed yourself to think of either of them. And Peeta. You could have ruined everything. He had continued playing up the star crossed lovers, why else would the gamemakers make a rule change like this. You move quickly and silently, theres only one place he could be, really. Arioch had gotten in your head, if Peeta was really that badly injured you may not have much time left, and you’d be damned if you lost anyone else. You only stop to rest when you’re close enough to the stream that you hope you’ll be able to hear or see Peeta.

The second daylight hits your still weary eyes you sit up. It stirs you from a rather unfulfilling sleep and you are off to try and find Peeta again. You almost give up several times before you manage to find that blood-streaked boulder. Hes close. He has to be.

You were amazed how even near death Peeta seemed to have his sense of humor intact. In other news, you suddenly remembered how much you hated the act of cleaning wounds.

“Something wrong?” He asks after seeing my face.

“Shut up.” Peeta laughs as you try not gag while cleaning his wound.

“How do you manage to kill anything around here?”

“You never know, I may be killing you as we speak.”

“Cant you just use that spear?”

“My food isn’t draining pus all over me. Blood I can handle.” You shove him some dried fruit and continue working on him. Its clear the wound is far above any medical capabilities you thought you had. After working on his leg for an hour you are finally able to wrap, and all you can do is hope for the best.

“I need to clean your…undershorts.”

“Okay.” He says it so calmly you grit your teeth, you’ve cried too much in that past couple of days for nakedness to be another thing on an ever growing list that makes you squeamish. You just avoid looking in his direction while he takes them off and turn your back to him as you get cleaning. “So no pus, but nakedness is okay? Or are you just being stubborn like how you were with Haymitch?”

“Speaking of…have you gotten anything?”

“No, what did you get?”

“Burn medicine.” You don’t need to say anything about the bread its an unnecessary truth. “It was when it was earlier in the games so he could probably afford it then.”

“Uh huh, not because you’re his favorite or anything.” You’re unsure what to say. You cant deny you and Haymitch understand each other on a different level. And survival wise, you could outlast anyone here. Maybe he could only bet on one of you. But with the rule change… ugh the whole rule change. The capitol has to be waiting for you to kiss him or love him. I mean youre washing his damn underwear, cant that be enough.

“I bet you he’ll send you something when he can.”

“Its okay Y/N, besides I know what will make me feel better.”

“Me too. Medicine.”

“No, you. I mean obviously you’re doing something right.”

You toss him some damp clothes to put back on. “Lets hope I am and your fever breaks.”

“Seriously thanks for coming back for me, I know you didn’t hav—” You cut him off and hugged him as tight as you could

“Just get better okay.” Because you did want him to get better. Whatever the reason was, the gamemakers are falling for his pining and giving you a chance to return it. Honestly after everything that happened with Rue, you kept thinking back to his words the night before the game. And this was something the games wouldn’t change. You weren’t in love with Peeta, and you couldn’t pretend. He was more of a family member or friend you would do almost anything for. But kissing him would feel wrong, be wrong. A hug is as much as the capitol would get for now, if your feelings changed later and you both made it out of here maybe you could play along.

“Is that all I get.”

“Get better and then maybe, maybe you get more.”

“I’ll take what I can get.” Peeta was so good at this. It didn’t take him long to doze off. You take the time to collect more water and hunt for anything near the stream. You know through the slower moving parts the fish could be easy pickings. You debate staying with Peeta, but you both need something in your system. Maybe you should let him rest, but you cant hunt for anything with him out in the open. You relent after about an hour and coax him into walking with you down the stream, as long as he can anyway. You comfort him as he gathers whatever strength he has left and when hes ready you find a small cave like formation a little way above the stream. You let him sleep and work on making the cave as unnoticeable as you possibly can. You let him sleep and work on making the cave as unnoticeable as you possibly. You manage to further downstream and pick off a few fish where the water is slow. You try to ignore how badly you missed a few times and instead try to figure out how to make yourself more appealing to any possible sponsors, you cant tell him you love him but if you cant give him medicine, maybe you can give him hope. The audience might turn their indifference into pity if you could make them believe that you cant allow yourself to fall in love yet. You take a deep, dramatic breath before entering the cave.

Peeta is still sound asleep in your sleeping bag. Good. It will be easier to do this when hes not fully coherent. You crouch besides him and brush a strand of hair away from his face, you try to show your hesitation, tapping your fingers and shaking your leg before shaking your head and kissing him on the cheek. A cheek that is rapidly raising in temperature.

Peeta stirs, “Mm Y/n?”

“I caught us some fish.”

“Thanks for finding me,”

“It’s the least I could do. Just get better for me, okay?”

“You know what would really make me feel better?” You roll your eyes, he is much better at playing the lovestruck boy than you could ever hope.

“You already got one. But if you actually get better…” then what? You don’t want to kiss him, “then maybe.” That’s the best you can do for now.

“I’ll take it.” He smiles at you. You can tell the fever medication you have is having next to effect on him. If he doesn’t get medicine soon he’s going to die. You both know it. You hear a soft crunch of leaves and you’re up in an instant. Peeta grabs your hand to try and stop you from doing anything dangerous, you squeeze his hand and put the other on his cheek. You then quickly grab your knife and sneak to the edge of the cave, you try not to laugh when you see the silver parachute at the foot of the entrance. Haymitch is obviously rewarding your actions. Not that they aren’t out of real concern but regardless its clear that hes going to keep pushing for you to act like this if its what sends you food. Realistically, what you want is medicine but you aren’t likely to get that at this stage in the game.

“Hey Peeta! Looks like Haymitch decided to send you something after all.” You are able to convince him its for him soup is easier for him to eat, otherwise he would have sent actual food. It seems to make sense to him anyway. Apparently even soup is a struggle for Peeta, “And here I thought you wanted to get better, I guess no kisses for you.”

“Not fair.”

“Please Peeta, you have to get better.” It takes entirely too long for him to stomach the tiny pot of broth. Once he sleeps, you put the last of your bandage supply left on his warm forehead. Great. Now you wish you had made out with more in the arena before you blew it up. Whatever. You could mope while you kept watch since its all you could do for now. Anything else is just hope that the audience enjoyed what you did today.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Cato’s POV

Haymitch continues to go in and out of the room. If this had anything to do with the rule change, you can only hope he continues doing it. Y/n finished telling a story about her and her brother scrounging around their house to look for anything valuable to sell to buy their younger brother something for his birthday. To probably most people, it should be clear she had some other way to get their brother an old guitar. Music is something that seems relatively prevalent in her house, you think back to her singing with Rue. You wonder how often she’s gone without eating to feed someone else in her family, she was barely sleeping to continue to check on the boy from her district. For some reason the kiss she gave him kept replaying in your brain. He was definitely hurting her chances of making it, but its clear she struggles to not help out other tributes. That probably isn’t making Snow very happy. The concern on her face grows as she finishes her story and rechecks Peetas leg, which won’t make it without any medicine soon.

She cleans the bandage again, clearly not helping make a dent in his fever. They both know the blood poisoning will take him out soon if the games don’t end in a matter of maybe two days tops. And after the camera has shown Thresh doing quite well…it doesn’t seem like Peeta would be the one to outlast his fellow tributes. Haymitch almost collapses into the couch, you’re shocked he doesn’t spill the whiskey in his glass.

“You alr—” you try to ask before he puts one finger up, effectively quieting you while he takes a sip. Guess he’s doing worse than you thought.

“Its too expensive.”

“The medicine.” Its meant to be a question but you know the price is too much for any sponsor to fork over.

“Hopefully Effie and her gaggle of friends have gossiped enough to get an idea to the gamemakers.” Almost on cue the trumpets sound an announcement. When Claudius Templesmith begins speaking Haymitch laughs to himself, “Sometimes I think I might actually love that woman.”

Just as quickly as relief hits, Peeta threatens to follow Y/n to the banquet. Haymitch mutters something about Peeta making everything difficult and steps out again. You think how hard it must be to do this alone all these years. Most all of the other districts have someone else to divide the work out. Haymitch looked as tired as his tributes in the arena. Maybe ten minutes pass before he stumbles back into the viewing room. You just hold out some kind of spirit in a cup. He raises it to you before letting his head fall back.

“Nothing else I can do.” Y/n has been arguing with Peeta on letting her go to the cornucopia. The small vial meant nothing to you but Y/n stared at it for a long while before going back to the cave.

‘I guess I don’t have to go to the feast after all. Haymitch sent you some medicine.’

‘Really?’

‘Yeah it says to take it like a shot. But it smells nasty. You’re stomach will probably try and reject it.’

‘I’m sure it wont.’ He snatched the vial with what little strength he had. You didn’t miss the smirk she had as he tried quickly drank it back. She played a big gamble on his ego and it paid off. She immediately plugged his nose and covered his mouth before he spit anything out. The effort was already draining the little energy he had, his attempt to force himself to throw didn’t help.

‘I’ll be back before you know it.’ Peetas anger reached all the way to the capitol. His eyes brimmed with fury as sleep overtook him. Y/n was smug at her victory, but she quickly leaned over him. Fussing over the sleeping bag covering him, cleaning any remaining medicine on his face, brushing his now sweat soaked hair from his face. ‘I hope you know I had to. I need you to make it.’

You watch as she presses her lip against his and try to find some logical reason on why you suddenly feel the need to go hit something. Y/n wastes no time. She starts arranging the cave to be almost undetectable. Luckily, she had been working on it before, as she finishes quickly. She walks for awhile and sets up a fire, with dusk settling it gives her good cover and she has time to cook everything she had caught the past day, making a decent meal of rabbit and fish. She finishes and fills the water containers when she gets back to the cave before allowing herself to sleep again. She only allows herself a few hours. You find yourself worrying about her lack of sleep.

The camera pans to the other districts again. The girl from five is starving and damn near freezing to death. Her item will definitely be something to protect her from the weather. Cato and Clove are cold too, their breaths making small white clouds, but they have the experience with cold weather training. Thresh seems fine too. You wonder what will be in store for those three.

‘Come on. I promise to make it a good show.’

‘No way. I kill her.’

‘Don’t be like that. You’ve killed almost everyone else we’ve dealt with and since you missed loverboy, its only fair I get a shot at her now.’

You don’t have to wonder who they’re talking about.

…’You’ll drag it out.’

‘Of course, when I’m done with her they’ll forget why they were ever rooting for her in the first place.’

‘Good thing you’re on my side, Clove.’ He chuckles, Clove grins with a sense of pride

‘So I can do it??’ Too excited, you think

‘Yeah sure.’

You didn’t expect Clove to do anything else. One of her critiques from the academy was quite literally how she wasted too much time making a show of things. She needed to prove she belonged. Its why all of you were shocked when she was the one picked from your district and not another eighteen year old to match Ariochs anger. Then again, if Arioch had another one of him out there they would have torn eachother apart before getting out of the blood bath. Probably over who got a certain kill.

Y/n began her journey back to the cornucopia. You wondered why she walked somewhat sideways until you remembered the big explosion. The ear must have been permanently damaged, or damaged until she made it back. She stopped more often than not to make sure she was hearing correctly. There was nothing. She arrived to her original hiding spot with no issue, with the glasses she slowly moved as close as she could. Arioch and Clove had sought out the space closest to the lake, which ended up helping Cora, the girl from five. She had snuck around the other side of giant cornucopia, hiding inside and ensuring she would be the closest to the feast the second the table appeared. Thresh was at the biggest disadvantage, positioning himself at the back of the cornucopia, He would need to listen for when the table came up because he definitely could not see from there.

District 5 had the right idea. Y/N realizes this the second she runs off. She wastes no time and runs in immediately after and grabs the tiny bag for her district, unfortunately Clove comes to the same realization. Y/n tries to follow District five but it’s clear Clove will be there before she can run off. You wonder why she only brought her knives but then again, the other weapons would require more time for her to aim and might end up hindering her. Cloves first knife is knocked away. You’re sure Y/ns cut up at least a little but not enough to stop her. She throws her own knife and it lands in Cloves right shoulder. Fortunately, that’s the arm she throws with. Unfortunately, this incites a rage you werent aware she had. She yanks the knife out, and switches it to her other hand quickly. Her aim is off now, and the knife whizzes past y/ns head. Y/n makes the mistake to look at where the knife landed and in that second Clove is tackling her to the ground. You remember your conversations on the roof that seem so long ago, and know she wont make it out of this. Your heart sinks to your stomach. Clove begins relishing in this, she knows this information just as well and is going to make her suffer just like she said she would.

‘Well if it isn’t the girl on fire. Whats the matter 12, worried about getting the medicine to loverboy?’

‘Worried about getting your screentime?’ She smirked until Clove threw a relatively soft punch considering her arm was clearly struggling to lift itself.

‘Not at all, I promised to give the audience a good show. Its funny because if it was Arioch right now, he’d probably finish you off pretty quickly. Would that be better for you? To go as quickly as your pathetic little friend?’

The mention of Rue has her struggling to unseat Clove with no avail, ‘Shut up. You don’t get to talk about her.’

‘The girl who hopped around in the trees. Rue? Well, we took care of her, and nature will take care of loverboy. and now I’m going to take care of you. Now, where to start?’ Y/n lifts her head trying to do anything to get Cloves balance off just to get a better chance of getting out of there. Clove is taking delight in her struggle, ‘I think we’ll start with your mouth. Make sure you blow loverboy one last kiss.’

‘Wow so clever. But if I can only say one last thing…’ Clove is puzzled for only a second more before Y/n spits in her face.

Clove gets one more punch as Y/n continues to struggle. When her nose begins to bleed she stills becoming unblinking, staring down her last opponent. You see Thresh coming up to the table freezing as he hears the entire conversation. ‘Lets start then,’

She barely leans over to trace the outline of Y/ns lips before he yanks her off his former ally. Flinging her to the ground. ‘You’re the one who killed her??’

Clove begins scooting backward, frantic at another opponent she clearly did not expect. Arioch had begun looking for another tribute where Y/n ran out of and was only now heading back to his original hiding spot.

‘No! No, it wasn’t me.!’

Thresh picks her up again holding her against the cornucopia. ‘I heard you!’

Arioch is already beginning to run as Clove begins screaming for help. He answers her but he’s too far. Thresh smashes her into the cornucopia. Y/n is still sat as she looks up in shock. Cloves body has the slightest moan escaping her lips. You look away, hating that the death wasn’t quick that somewhere in her mind she feels the pain coursing through her body. Your eyes snap up when Thresh speaks again.

‘Just this time Y/n. For Rue.’

Y/n eyes look at the two bags he has, ‘Don’t do it Thresh. Its not worth it.’

‘Clove!’ Ariochs voice makes Y/ns stand in a defensive position.

‘You better run now, Fire Girl.’ Y/ns scrambles to collect her knives and begins to run. She pauses when she hits the edge of the forest. Thresh has run off with both backpacks which could be a really smart or really stupid move. She looks at a frozen Arioch leaning over Clove and continues to run towards Peeta.

Y/n makes several stops as she runs towards Peeta, once to make sure her nose had stopped bleeding, it had. Once to see if her arm had stopped, it had not. She squeezed it shut until her feet hit the stream. She stops several more times to bend over and hold her head. You assume she is getting dizzy. The punch probably giving her an effect of a concussion. Every time she stands again she seems to have trouble getting her bearings but she makes it to the cave. Her hands shake as she struggles to open the small box, it contains one needle. She fumbles to unzip the sleeping bag and the second Peetas arm is exposed Y/n tries to center the shot. She has to take several deep breaths to calm the adrenaline that is sure to be coursing through her body, her hands are still shaking but she is able to slowly press down on the needle’s plunger. When shes finished she throws it across the cave and curls up into a ball, finally succumbing to the sleep that’s been eluding her since finding Peeta.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Y/N’s POV

You couldn’t cry, not again. You’ve cried too much in these games. One, its embarrassing, two the capitol cannot have another excuse to make you look weak. So when Peeta tells you Thresh’s picture is in the sky you ask if he can take the first watch and you cover your face with the sleeping bag until the tears stops falling. You have a feeling Peeta understands, but to what extent?

You’d woken up to the sound of the anthem. Peeta stroking your hair like you had done to him when he had been sick. You had to explain how you had worked with District 11. How Thresh moved you to a safe location after the tracker jackers, how you had helped fix his shoulder, how you’d gotten them both food and blew up the career’s supply, and the worst part…the part you didn’t want to ever discuss, Rue. Peeta had made a remark about how he must have felt like your alliance was still technically in place since Arioch and Clove had still been around. But you knew deep down, that it wasn’t about you, but Rue. The feast you had gotten for excitedly hugging Peeta and peppering his face with light kisses had suddenly turned to lead in your stomach. You had pretended to get caught up in the moment, and apparently, it had been enough for Haymitch to let you both eat real food while hiding in the downpour that had been happening the last couple of days.

Under the sleeping bag you think about anything besides your fallen allies. So you retrace the events leading up to the meal, the kisses, Peetas retelling of how he fell in love with you…well how he fell in love with Katniss. You had been friends with Katniss long ago, when you were both really young, and the memory albeit fuzzy was there of a young more cheerful Katniss telling you all about how she sang the valley song for her class. Then the mining incident happened, and the resentment that your father was one of the few to make it while hers was gone forever drove a divisible wedge. After that, it felt wrong to compare situations. Without your own father being able to work, you had lost him too. Pride had made him bitter and somewhat cruel, and he refused to work. Your mother was so focused on rehabilitating him, it fell on you to help your brothers. You remember how your father said nothing before you left, except to make himself seem like somewhat of a hero. You had once thought about how different you and Katniss had grown to get to the same indifference towards your parents. You could barely manage to be in the same room with your father while Katniss still held him in the highest regards, you at best felt pity for your mother for being tied to someone who believed he was better than everyone. Katniss for lack of better words, hated her mother for the abandonment. You were so similar you wished everyday you could restart the friendship you two had had long ago, you also wonder what she makes of this whole act and Peetas story that so clearly reference her. He was great at changing small details to make it plausible. You had just promised him that when you both made it out of there he could take you on an actual date, playing enough to keep the audience’s hopes up, well and Peeta kept poking fun at you saying he was planning on going all out when you got out. Regardless, you both played on this story and got the incredible food that you were trying to inhale before he looked outside the cave and saw Thresh’s picture in the sky.

Thresh. You should have told him about that extra backpack you’d hidden in the beginning of the game. Stopped him from taking Ariochs backpack. He was sure to have made Threshs death slow…and painful. You think about the last time you ever saw him he finally used your name. The capitol food threatens to make a reappearance. You give Peeta one of your knives, tell him to hide it in unless he absolutely needs it. He could train with the arrows tomorrow because honestly, you weren’t proving to be very good with it. You wonder if Katniss was irritated at how poorly you aimed, you wonder if she would train you on it when you got home. You wondered if you could be friends again. You focus on that instead of the sleep that’s eluding you again now that you’re thinking of Thresh’s murder. Now all you had was Cora and Arioch. Arioch you could handle, Cora…you remember how she almost agreed to be allies, and had least said you wouldn’t gun for each other.

Eventually, Peeta wakes you so you can keep watch. You comply soundlessly. You’re so thankful you aren’t alone anymore because really, you were barely making by before the rule change. You were tired of killing, you didn’t need anymore blood on your hands. Of course, this is the hunger games, and you knew that likely you wouldn’t have a choice.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Catos POV

Peeta had proven being kind could save your life in the game. You saw Y/n’s panic as she spun around expecting Peeta to have eaten those berries. Instead, they find the District 5 girl. Y/n cleans the berry stains from her mouth and hands, and closes her sunken, hollow eyes before trying to move Peeta along. He meanwhile, was waiting for the two of them to be able to eat together, really he’s quite lucky, most people would have snacked on the berries before meeting back up with an ally. His naivete, sparing him a quick death. She claimed she wanted to get some space before Arioch barreled through the woods but likely, she was uncomfortable with another dead tribute. She needed to compartmentalize. The capitol wouldn’t like how torn she seemed everytime a picture was shown in the sky.

You noticed Haymitch was all but telling her to accept Peetas affection. She seemed to be trying to suppress her attraction to the guy, but you were unsure how much of it was an act. It was clear the audience was going crazy over what they saw as fear of losing someone she was in love with. Fear of admitting something that was too good to be true. Their return would ensure the two of them would be forced to get into a relationship immediately. You wondered if they could keep up the whole pretense.

In the real world the victors we’re headed back to their respective floors for dinner. You and Enobaria went to the couch while Brutus went on about how Arioch would win out.

The temperature was dropping quickly too quickly. This was the finale. Everyone would have work off tomorrow throughout all of the districts. And Arioch now had the advantage of complete body armor. Seemed a little unfair but I guess it was two against one. Peeta was about as good as Glimmer with the bow and arrow. Y/N held Marvels spear as they headed to the cornucopia. The camera pans to Arioch confidently walking deeper into the forest where the girl from district five was picked up. He’d been hunting since brutally torturing Thresh in the downpour. The fight could go either way, but Arioch was going on pure rage and vengeance. He made the death painfully slow, making cuts that individually wouldn’t kill anyone. Thresh fought back well, the weapon and armor he had stolen came in handy. The rain however made it hard for him to see clearly and Arioch still had the glasses. You were somewhat surprised when Arioch didn’t scream his success after finishing him off.

The gamemakers has quieted the background noise they had going on. The snarling was unmistakable. You could hear whatever creature was back lick it’s lips as it growled in Ariochs direction. Muttations. Half wolf and half human like things that looked like… oh god. You turned to look at Enobaria, maybe you were wrong. Her scowl told you your suspicions were correct. She quickly stood up and retired to her room. The rest of your victors were silent, knowing how she felt about the mutts, about herself every day she woke up, every time she looked in the mirror. You wondered if she thought she was just like those mutts on the screen. You wished there was something you could say, anything to help. But words weren’t really your strong suit.

When you turn back to the screen Y/n and Peeta have heard Arioch and the mutts running towards them. She should have thrown her knife the second she saw enter the clearing. But she frozen. Utterly frozen at the giant creatures following him, figuring out exactly what they were. Who they were.

Peeta yanks y/ns arm. They barely managed to make it to the cornucopia without any injuries.

‘It’s them. All of them.’ Y/n whimpers as she fumbles to tie a bandage on Peetas once again, bloodied leg.

‘Are- are those their real eyes???’

You force yourself to look at the muttations a little more closely. The eyes definitely looked entirely too human. It was a sick thing to do to them. Even dead their bodies served the capitol. Always loyal to the capitol.

The hair on the wolves had different textures, the one who could only be Glimmer had blond shiny hair, the one with the number four had curly hair throughout his entire body. You refused to look at them any more. You looked up when you heard y/n scream out just to see Arioch yank her hair to throw her back on the floor. Peeta quickly tackles him, even injured it’s clear Peeta has experience fighting but he’s injure and Arioch quickly has him in a headlock. Y/n is already trying to figure out where to aim the spear.

‘Drop it or he dies.’

‘He dies and you come in second.’

‘Then I get one last kill.’

‘Yeah real impressive killing someone injured, but seeing as you couldn’t kill him the first time I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised you need to prove a point.’ She grinned, she was playing a dangerous game. Peeta was weakly clawing at Ariochs arm but the stalling could only go so far.

‘I was supposed to win. It should have been me or Clove..’

‘Come on Arioch, we all know I’m the one you have to beat. Look I’ll even go no weapons, no arrows, no spears, no knives.’ Arioch laughs at what seems is y/n signing Peetas death certificate.

It finally registers to Peeta what Y/n wants him to do. She sighs and pats her leg as she bends down, eyes on Arioch while she lays down the spear. Peeta manages to dig the knife y/n had told him to hide straight into Ariochs thigh.

He’s caught off guard and instinctively goes to remove the knife while screaming in pain. Y/ns gamble paid off, she throws her own knife towards his head. It nicks his already injured forehead sending a gush of blood down his face. The pause gives Peeta the room to push him off the cornucopia. Arioch isn’t one to go down easy, you think at the mutts that are way too excited to have him back down on the ground. Y/n rushes over to Oeeta cupping his face in her hands…

‘Are you okay?’

‘Yeah. Much better now.’ He pulls her in for an embrace they share until Ariochs screams begin cutting through the freezing air.

You find yourself holding your breath as they try to figure out how to help Arioch. Peetas convinced he would waste all of the arrows. Y/n is unsure without her knives but exasperated takes the bow and arrow from Peeta. And for the first time that you’ve seen in the arena, she hits her mark and the canon goes off.

‘That’s it! We did it!’ Peeta says through chattering teeth. Y/n collapses next to him and rests her head on his shoulder. Just like that the mutts disappear back into the woods. Y/ns eyes trained on the remaining wolves, saying goodbye to her friends one more time.

‘I can’t wait to go home.’

Peeta tries to cheer her up again, ‘you know what this means?’

‘What?’

‘You have to go on a date with me now. You promised.’

Y/n laughs, ‘you promised actually…but I’ll hold you to that.’ She lifts her and pulls his chin closer to hers and presses her lips firmly on his. His hands pull her closer before she pulls away. You find one of your nails has begun going back and forth on your skin, digging into it and leaving a large raw scratch in the palm of your hand. Some act.

Where’s the damn hovercraft? Hours go by and y/n and Peeta are forced to huddle together to try and preserve whatever body heat is left between the two of them. You go back to the viewing room where most of the victors are watching as intently as you plan to.

‘What’s taking so damn long?’ Y/n asks by the time the sun begins to rise again

‘Maybe we need to move away from the body. They probably still need to collect it.’ Already y/n has figured out what’s beginning to happen. She presses her lips together but nods.

‘Well then let’s move.’

They both move slowly. Probably as quick as their bodies can move after spending the night in freezing weather. They make it to the edge of the clearing, certainly farther than they were from the district five girl. When the hovercraft eventually grabs Ariochs bloodied body Claudine’s Templesmith’s voice echoes through the arena. You lean as close to the screen as you can just in case you miss anything.

‘Greetings to the final contestants of the Seventy-Fourth Hunger Games. The earlier revisions have been revoked. Closer examination of the rule book has disclosed that only one winner may be allowed. Good luck, and may the odds be ever in your favor!’

Y/n closes her eyes and takes a deep breath knowing deep down this was coming. She looks at Peeta. Injured and takes a step back.

‘Dont y/n. One of us should go home.’

She shakes her head, ‘No.’

‘Y/n—‘

‘Peeta, I can’t. You could go and see—‘

‘Don’t be dumb y/n. I’m not going without you.’ She’s about to protest when he says, ‘that’s fine, you’ll outlast me anyway.’

He’s about to remove the bandage he has wrapped around his leg that’s already soaking through when y/n screams, ‘No! Just wait. Please.’

‘They have to have a winner y/n.’

That’s when she hatched the idea. ‘No. They don’t.’

She holds out the night lock berries. Peeta is about to protest when she tells him to trust her. They split the berries. Your throat is dry. You want to scream at both of them. Stop. Don’t give everything up now.

‘3.’

‘2.’

….

‘1’

They both have the berries on their lips when Claudius Templesmith comes back, frantic ‘Stop! Stop! Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to present the victors of the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games, Katniss Y/N L/N and Peeta Mellark! I give you the tributes of District Twelve!’

But while the announcement caused y/n to freeze, it caused Peeta to bite down. You could hear a pin drop in the room. Y/n spots the berries out and turns to Peeta excitedly, before she sees him try to open his mouth but fail as the night lock seizes his system and he collapses to the ground. Her moth drops and she’s frozen until the canon sounds one. Last. Time.

Haymitch smashes a glass across the room, “Damn it!” He storms out with Chaff following behind him.

‘No. No no no no. Peeta wake up.’ She falls to her knees and lifts his head on her lap, when he doesn’t respond she tries to shake his shoulders. ‘Peeta! Wake up, damn you! We just won. We’re supposed to go home. You owe me. You promised me! You said you would take me out so GET UP!’

She’s bawling by the time she gets out those last words. When the hovercraft comes for her and I guess Peeta as well she covers his body not making any effort to leave. You grimace, you know what happens when you don’t voluntarily go to the hovercraft.

‘Ladies and Gentlemen I am pleased to present the Victor of the 74th Hunger Games! Y/N L/N’

‘No! It’s both of us. Shut up!’ She screams as Peacekeepers descend from another hovercraft. She seems to be to busy rocking Peetas upper body gently alternating between telling him it’s okay to get up and begging him to open his eyes.

The peacekeepers each grab one of her arms and she goes feral; kicking and screaming protests, ‘No! LET ME GO! You can’t leave him please! No!’

You find yourself wanting to tell her it’s going to be okay. But you know that’s not entirely true. Still, you wish you could comfort her. The room is a mixture of mouths agape, people holding in their shock by covering their mouths, and looking at eachother with a look that can only be described as confusion. You all watch as her cries get quieter and quieter when another peacekeeper sedates her. And just like that her body ascends into the hovercraft, coming back to the Capitol.

That’s when it hits you. Y/ns coming back. And she’s going to have a whole new game to play.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Taglist: @chloe-skywalker @ietss @tomihoeka @chiimiki @akinatrix @inky-sun

#hunger games #catching fire #mockingjay #tbosas #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #hunger games cato #hunger games cato imagine #cato hunger games #cato x reader

186 notes · View notes

laelior · 25 days

Text

Home

(cw: heavy themes including slavery, implied torture, and trauma)

Someone should check on the commander, Ashley had said to him after something had happened on the docks. Someone, meaning Kaidan, he’d understood. As for the something….

No one could tell him exactly what had happened, just that Shepard had told the crew to take the rest of the day as shore leave before disappearing into the bowels of the Citadel.

And somehow, he knew just where she’d be.

Chora’s Den was, as always, a headache waiting to happen. The too-loud music, the dull red lights, and the crush of people filtering around the dingy club had already settled in behind his eyes, causing a dull throb to form in his head by the time he found Shepard.

She was sitting at a corner table, staring straight past the asari dancer writhing on the platform in front of her. Two drinks, a pint glass and a shot glass, sat on her table, both completely full. Condensation gathered and dripped down the side of the pint glass, puddling on the table, suggesting it had been sitting there untouched for some time.

He approached cautiously, not sure how to even greet her like this, but she saved him the trouble.

“Williams sent you to check up on me?” She asked, before he even realized she’d seen him. She just continued staring straight ahead. He settled in next to an empty chair at her table.

“You had her pretty rattled. Figured I should just check to see you’re alright.” And he could see exactly what had Ashley so concerned. For all that Shepard was in the midst of a lively sea of people, she might as well have been alone on a frozen lake in the middle of nowhere. And Kaidan couldn’t shake the sense that something dark stirred restlessly just beneath that thin ice.

“You mean you drew the short straw.” She didn’t even look at him, just mechanically picked up the pint glass, brought it up to her lips, and set it back down without actually taking a sip.

“Something like that.” Kaidan hovered near the empty chair. Sitting felt too comfortable, too informal for whatever Shepard was wrestling with. The asari dancer looked over her shoulder at him, expectantly, and cleared her throat pointedly, prompting him to take the chair anyway. Shepard’s eyes flicked over to him, dull and uninterested in either the dancer or him. She brought up her omni-tool and sent a tip to the dancer, who nodded and continued her rhythmic undulations in an entirely business-like manner.

Shepard was silent for a long time. Kaidan simply waited. Waited for her to say something. To tell him to fuck off. To something.

Then, finally, she spoke.

“There was a girl on the docks. Talitha. Talitha Abbott.”

“Who was she?” Kaidan asked, quietly, gently. Her eyes flicked over to him again, this time seeming to actually notice him.

“What do you know about Mindoir?” She asked after another uncomfortably long silence.

“Mindoir? It’s one of the frontier colonies, out near the Terminus systems.” He racked his brain, trying to remember what he knew of it. “It got hit by a batarian raid pretty hard a while back, I think. Early 70’s?” There was something else, something that stood just outside his recollection. The dull ache in his head was making it hard to think.

“April 17, 2170,” she said, her voice completely devoid of inflection. “She was a survivor of the raid, if you can call it survival. Watched her parents die right in front of her eyes, along with everyone she ever knew or loved. They took her and kept her as a slave for thirteen years.”

Shepard remained entirely expressionless, but Kaidan couldn’t help wincing. Protecting frontier colonies from dangers like batarian slave raids was one of the core duties of the Alliance. He’d seen the aftermath of such raids before. It was never pretty.

And after thirteen years….

“How’d she get here on the Citadel?”

“Rescued. Then she escaped from her rescuers. She…dissociated. Couldn’t deal with what happened to her.” There was a catch in Shepard’s voice. A slight stumble, the tiniest hint of vulnerability. Kaidan started to reach for her, unthinkingly, but forced his hand back down to his side once he realized what he was doing.

“Shepard, what happened on the docks?” He asked quietly. The throbbing in the back of his head was growing. The longer he stayed in Chora’s Den the worse the ensuing migraine would be, he knew, but he had to stay. Had to know what had sent a hardened soldier like Shepard fleeing like this.

“She’s…sedated. Safe. But….” Shepard reached for the shot glass in front of her, her hand shaking ever so slightly, and quickly downed the amber liquid in it in one gulp. “Mindoir was my home, too.”

She set the shot glass upside down on the table, got up, and left, leaving Kaidan alone in stunned silence.

#mass effect #beth shepard #kaidan alenko #lae writes #my writing #cw: slavery #colonist shepard #angst #as per usual #no way that mission isn't going to stir up some trauma for a colonist shepard

16 notes · View notes

system-of-a-feather · 3 months

Note

Hi, I was wondering (from your post about questions going from anti-endo to pro-endo),

Did your entire system become pro-endo? We've been slowly going down the pro-endo path, but we still have a handful of anti-endo parts who don't seem to be changing their views at all.

How did that go for you all?

Yeah our whole system is pro-endo at this point but a lot of us swapped sides on our own time and terms. A lot of our parts were very "I really dont care and dont want to engage" or just relatively uninterested with a lean so those guys kinda just changed opinion as the more opinionated parts changed opinion

I (Riku dominant part of the brain) was one of the last parts to genuinely change our opinions cause I honestly had some pretty bad experiences with endo-adjacent communities (and felt it might be dangerous to suggest that there was value in that community which was a trauma response that is valid but harmful and I had to work through that) and am the most research loving part so it took a lot more understanding into the depth of how research works for me to look at the theory of structural dissociation properly and with nuance. Plus I was / still probably am the part that has the most catching up to do on processing the fact we are POC and our experiences with it, so going further into Buddhist practice and integration and chatting with other parts made me get a larger fuller image and that changed my view a lot

But unironically, the main thing that really pushed a lot of the system as a whole from endo-neutral (which we were for a hot minute) to loud and proud pro-endo was the good faith the endo community gave us regarding the tulpacourse topic and the genuine sway that we saw in regards to taking criticism from POC. Cause I forget who it was, I think maybe @/artisticdysfunction (I could be entirely wrong so Im not @) that commented something along the lines of "hey if we can agree and acknowledge thst its appropriative can we agree willowgenic are actually a thing" or something and XIV went "Ya know what deal, I will fully change from neutral to pro if the endogenic community can show that it can take criticism and Ill push to humor it more"

Which I (Riku dominant brain) was SUPER hesitsnt to follow along with and so I made some boundaries of not going too ham on our system account for my own comfort and in exchange Ill humor and think about the topic more but like, it was honestly really hard and uncomfortable for me at first but honestly, XIV was right and so while it was originally somewhat a transactional alliance, its very much genuine at this point

But yeah tldr it took time and each part changed views over time. Its been like a few year thing

(And to be fair, our system used to also be relatively right wing anti-SJW Shapiro fans like AGES ago so this wasnt our first team switch over time)

#alter: riku #alter: xiv #alter: fei #syscourse #syscourse tw #proendo #pro-endo #endo safe

13 notes · View notes

cosmica-galaxy · 7 months

Note

For Fellow and Comrade... Are those two permanent party or they kinda come and go compared to the main Mimic Trio? The Clock Mimic strikes me as way more aloof, especially given the fact they feed on life-force and might wanna spare the human from having their vitality drained

I would say they are permanent, but situational. Fellow is sensitive to light, not in a vampire way but more in a photosensitive way, and lives primarily underground. Being underground since birth, Fellow prefers darkness and will start to feel pain if exposed to sunlight for too long, usually 30 minutes to within 2 hours depending on weather. However, he can walk above ground while it's very overcast, raining, or if it's dusk or night. So he'll be seen less often because of those restrictions. But don't worry, he pays attention and may even follow the human's pack underground for added unexpected backup if things go wrong. He appears just often enough to make the human happy and Pal ecstatic to see his childhood friend above ground. He'll even appear to help on missions that involve counterattacks, digging, and underground spying/scoping. He tries to help the alliance and the human's pack, despite his limitations and inability to communicate effectively. It won't stop him from trying, though! Comrade is even more elusive and aloof than Fiend. The human doesn't even know where he lives or what he does in his spare time. He speaks like an educated scholar, but with a bit of attitude/dissociation. The human only ever runs into him when they are usually alone and away from the alliance, whom he tries to avoid. He also changes feeding grounds a lot, so the human can only surmise that he may be nomadic...then again...his incredible speed may make those trips absolutely trivial. He also puts his hands into his "pockets" to avoid touching the human, as his claws are his feeding apparatus and accidental touching can drain some of the human's vitality, but not as nearly as much as if he was actively hunting. So he keeps to himself. Easily the most difficult to get close to and he refuses to live within the bases of the alliance. Preferring to keep his own personal dwelling a secret. He's pretty tight-lipped about his species and doesn't mention his family or if he has a pack of his own. He just ignores the question when asked. However, the human is determined to get him to be friendlier...and maybe that's why he likes them so much. (So when peeps say "mimics", I usually only assume the main trio of mimics. As one will have to ask about the multiverse variants for them to be included. They'll also have to be seperate for length reasons, lmao.)

#zee-werecat #haxorus imp #hax speaks #cosmica galaxy #cosmica-galaxy #skibidi tag #skibidi toilet mimic #skibidi mimic

26 notes · View notes

nothingtherefornow · 8 months

Note

What scares me for Season 6 is that no matter what happens Marinette will be blamed - since the show writers's method for creating drama is "Marinette commits a mistake and have to atone"....

Indeed, this is why I'm not feeling that bad if the season 6 of miraculous don't come out before at least the end of 2024.

To hide the truth from Adrien may have been a mistake, but one that Adrichat himself could have also make have his and Marinette's positions been reversed.

And hiding the truth about Gabriel from Paris is even more understandable, because even if making them beleive that Gabriel was a hero is a big injustice, the truth would have put Adrien in a very difficult situation. We can't tell if Parisians would have been able to dissociate Adrien from his father.

And who know if had LAdybug told the truth to the parisians, if Tomoe Tsurugi may not have tried to portray a false story where her and Gabriel were forced to act as Monarch' agents because he held their children hostage or something (she probably used that excuse to explain why the alliance rings where used to miraculize people and falsely making them beleive that Kagami and Adrien were kidnapped by Ladybug and Chat Noir)

Not to forget that it would be so unfair to only blame Marinette for that situation when Kagami, Felix and Nathalie are as much aware of the truth as her, and maybe even Bunnix for she has the power to see the past, present and future.

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug season 6 #ml season 6 speculations #marinette dupain-cheng deserves better

23 notes · View notes

mashamorevvna · 3 months

Note

hi babe im here to ask about “it would not be i any longer (it would be we, it would be us)” i love this so much, can you talk about the decision to make this a second person pov?

(grouping these two asks together @anderstrevelyan and thank you so much for asking about my babygirl my silly little rabbit minthara de winter 🥹🥹🥹)

the first kernel of inspiration came in december and the idea was to explore the destabilized alliance of the dead three's chosen through the pov of an outsider, and specifically to try and explore the reason why orin, who before then seemingly never wanted a sidekick (she killed her butler right as he presented himself to her!), post-durge assasination felt the (emotional?) need to have someone brainwashed to worship her.

as for the second-person pov it was a mix-mash of thinking about the way rebecca uses the first person to de-personalize mrs de winter (in juxtaposition to rebecca, who for obvious reasons, is always talked about in the third person but who is still a more 'tangible' presence); and the way the fifth season by n.k. jemisin (i mention the first book bc later the reason for the 2nd pov gets reframed a little bit) uses the 2nd pov to depict this woman's fragmented post-trauma experience and dissociation. mostly bc in my experience 2nd pov is the closest thing you can use to achieve a dissociated state just by playing with form alone, and specifically in the context of bg3 it seemed plausible that a person not insulated from the absolute thanks to the artifact would 'remember' that mind-control as an out-of-body experience.

an added-layer to the 2nd pov that i enjoyed was the durge-piloting-minthara angle. so essentially a tadpole-mind link being created between the two due minthara's traumatic tadpoling and proximity. and durge 'narrating' the whole experience for you (minthara). but idk if this makes as much sense as the rest <3 but it was a lot of fun to me as an added bonus. this also inspired by 2nd pov use in the stone sky by n.k. jemisin

#.ask #wheeeew this got long but i do have a lot of fairly tangled thoughts as to why i made that specific choice #as for when the choice of second pov came to: it's the in-between phase of 'i have an outline' and 'now i need to write the whole thing'#which is when i make my decisions about form and themes since i can have a vague understanding of which scenes im aiming to write #anyway thankkk youuu again so very much <3<3

10 notes · View notes

religion-is-a-mental-illness · 2 months

Text

By: Gay Men's Network

Published: April 2024

Foreword

The final Cass Review is a devastating account of an unprecedented homophobic medical scandal in the NHS and private health sphere. Dr Cass details how an authoritarian brand of gender ideology came to replace evidence-based practice in the GIDS service. Whistleblowers like Susan Evans and Dr David Bell were silenced and cancelled. Brave detransitioner Keira Bell and Mrs A were forced to fight an arduous court case to expose elementary malpractice. Powerful former gay rights charities like Stonewall failed in their first duty of protecting samesex attracted youth, speaking in favour of a harmful ideology when they should have been opposing it. Those who did speak up for gay youth, like the LGB Alliance, were subject to misconceived and stressful litigation by ideological actors disinclined to discussion. The Cass Review may be a watershed moment for gay rights, but it is a damning indictment of gay politics that this reality check was ever necessary.

The recommendations of the Cass Review represent a return to the evidence-based norms of medicine. It is frankly terrifying they were ever abandoned in the first place. We wish to emphasise this was primarily a homophobic medical scandal. Staff at the Tavistock famously told a dark “joke” saying “soon there will be no gay people left”. Institutional homophobia must not be overlooked, edited out or erased from the post-Cass discussion. Homophobia ran riot because staff were too scared of accusations of transphobia.

With the exception that there be a clinical trial of puberty blockers, we welcome the recommendations of the Cass Review. Puberty is a human right and growing up into a welladjusted post-pubertal gay man is a gay right. Given mounting global evidence of testicular atrophy, increased testicular cancer risk, IQ deficits, osteoporosis, and more, GMN believes there are no circumstances in which a clinical trial having gay youth as live test subjects could be conscionable. We object to such in the strongest terms.

[ More... ]

Gender identity ideology: makes magical metaphysical claims about "essences" dissociated from physical reality; is profoundly anti-science; is authoritarian; is impervious to evidence; deems disbelievers to be heretics who are evil and dangerous; encourages adherents to separate from their normal relationships with family and friends; makes claims of an unattainable, incoherent utopia; regards the human body as a malleable, disposable vessel; reifies those who make the ultimate commitment; demonizes apostates (detransitioners); uses chanting and thought-terminating cliches ("TWAW"/"TMAM") to suppress doubt; pursues children as the most vulnerable and needing to be inducted.

It's a full-blown cult. And everybody has the right to freedom from this cult, like any religion.

It's not the end of gender ideology yet, but it's the beginning of the end.

8 notes · View notes

dailyanarchistposts · 2 months

Text

This year in France, the traditional day for celebrating the struggles of the late 19th century and the introduction of the eight-hour day was part of a much larger sequence of struggle. As May Day approached, the French government remained caught in a political crisis created by the still untamed yellow vests movement. Because we have documented May Day 2017 and 2018 in Paris and the entire trajectory of the yellow vest movement, we can identify the new strategy of repression that the state is employing and evaluate its strengths and weaknesses. Globally, it appears that governments from France and the United States to China and Nicaragua have no real plan for dealing with the unrest generated by spiraling social inequality except by ceaselessly escalating the violence they perpetrate against human beings. The past year’s clashes in France place it near the front of this process of escalation; the following analysis will be informative to anyone interested in continuing to organize protests and bringing pressure to bear on the authorities despite their efforts to impose “order” by brute force.

For the past several years, France has experienced numerous waves of resistance to capitalist projects and political reforms. This succession of conflicts has underscored the increasing difficulty governments face imposing their neoliberal agendas on the population, while enabling anarchists and other autonomous rebels to connect with new sectors of the population. Some ideas and practices that originated in anarchist and anti-authoritarian circles have spread to other demonstrators, too.

This evolution started during the movement against the Loi Travail when students and other demonstrators who refused to march alongside trade unions decided to take the head of the procession, creating the cortège de tête. As intense clashes with police forces became the norm, demonstrators who had not previously engaged in street confrontations learned defense tactics such as wearing goggles and covering their faces for protection against tear gas and police surveillance.

Over the following years, the cortège de tête continued to attract more and more demonstrators, most of them disillusioned by the lack of political conviction of the traditional trade unions’ march. During May Day 2018, the leading part of the demonstration drew almost as many participants as all the trade unions together. To some extent, the cortège de tête has weakened and hastened the decline of trade unions in the French political scene. The latter have more and more difficulties portraying themselves as defending workers’ rights and fighting against the government’s neoliberal decisions.

More recently, the yellow vest movement took everyone by surprise as some of its participants—many of them unfamiliar with demonstrations and social struggles—engaged in intense street confrontations and property destruction without waiting for anarchists to show up. They repeatedly succeeded in creating chaotic situations outside the zones controlled by police. This reshuffled the cards of social protest in France and allowed anarchists and anti-authoritarians to revise some of their tactics. Ultimately, yellow vesters and radicals began fighting side by side during the weekly days of action to such an extent that, for May Day 2019, autonomous rebels invited yellow vesters to join them in the cortège de tête.

The authorities fear these informal alliances and the increasing phenomenon of rioting as a form of political action. If more and more demonstrators continue embracing our tactics, refusing to dissociate themselves from the most “radical elements,” and engaging in property destruction and street confrontations against police forces, the government won’t be able to continue to fool people with the classic argument that “dangerous rioters wearing all black are threatening the safety of normal demonstrators and the lives of good citizens” to justify its brutal repression.

This is why, from members of the current government to yellow vesters and anarchists, everyone knew that during this May Day, the situation would be explosive in the streets of Paris. This article picks up where our previous analysis left off, in the aftermath of French President Macron’s press conference a few days before May Day.

12 notes · View notes

incognitajones · 11 months

Note

Hello! May I suggest rebelcaptain + praise kink and honour bondage, if it inspires?💕💕

Listen, kind anon, I'm well aware this is not what you were expecting! In my defense, it's not what I intended to write either. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I blame a combination of reading Rifle's werewolf story plus having finally seen the MCU Jack Russell movie recently.

For a spy, rumours were currency: Cassian sought them out, sifted through them, paid attention to how they might link together. Long ago he’d heard the whispers about Saw Gerrera’s monster on a leash, the secret threat the Partisans had that could terrify anyone into talking. And he knew that Gerrera’s daughter, the ferocious soldier he’d raised from an orphan girl, was called the Wolf.

He’d just never believed there was any connection between the two, or that the name was anything but a metaphor. It was impossible. Even in a universe that had once held supernaturally powerful Force users, people simply didn’t transform into animals.

Then he’d watched a massive wolf bound up to Saw, shake blood from its muzzle, stretch, and shed its chestnut-brown pelt to rise as Jyn Erso. And now he was locked up with her, about to be the latest casualty of the Partisans’ vicious executioner.

He’d only met Erso once before this, and briefly, but her body language was already miles away from that self-contained woman. Now she paced back and forth, fists clenched. She carried her head lower and her gaze flickered restlessly around the tiny cell, always avoiding direct eye contact with him. Her tense, hunched shoulders gave the impression of risen hackles.

“I hate the Alliance as much as Saw, but I don’t want to be his monster,” she growled in a voice with low, feral overtones no human throat ought to be capable of. “I don’t want her to kill you.”

Cassian didn’t want that either. But he was trapped in here with no weapons and a woman slipping beneath the surface of madness. There was no winning endgame for Cassian—even if he somehow miraculously took Erso down when she attacked him, Gerrera would kill him in revenge afterward.

She whirled on him and he pressed his back against the wall, tensed and waiting for her to spring. Her eyes flared with light reflected from the corridor. She clenched her hands in fists and jerked her chin toward the corner of the cell. “Stay there. Whatever the wolf does—don’t move. No eye contact. She’ll see that as a challenge. And don’t try to touch her unless you want your fingers bitten off.”

Even contemplating his impending death didn’t smother his terrified curiosity about her. She talked about the wolf as though it were a different creature: dissociation, or did she honestly not remember what she did when in the animal form? At least if she was offering him tips on how to placate the wolf, maybe she was serious about not wanting to kill him.

“Can I talk to—her?” Cassian asked cautiously.

Erso shrugged dismissively. “If you want. She won’t understand anything, but if you sound calm and non-threatening it might help.”

She spun on her heel, turning her back on him. Her whole body wrenched into spasms, her back arching in ways human spines weren’t supposed to. Her breathing was harsh, torn from her throat.

Cassian backed into the corner of the cell and sat down, wedging himself in. He drew his knees up and wrapped his arms around them in an effort to shield himself. He fought to keep his breathing even and steady, though he was sure it didn’t matter when she could hear his thudding pulse.

He didn’t watch the transformation, mindful of her stricture against eye contact, but without meaning to, he still caught glimpses of it. She didn’t scream or cry out, but her ragged gasps and bitten-off grunts sounded like someone in pain. And the rippling fur erupting from bare flesh and the twisting of human limbs into flexions they weren’t made for looked viscerally wrong.

It seemed to take forever until the wolf rose on four legs and shook itself. What made the beast so uncanny was that its eyes were the same hazel green as hers; that and its truly terrifying size. Somehow, it was twice the mass of the slight woman who’d stood in this cell a moment ago.

Its head thrust low in an echo of her previous posture, a growl rumbled in its throat, echoing off the stone walls. Cassian hastily jerked his head down, cursing himself. Stupid to stare in defiance of warnings, stupider to get caught.

The wolf stalked toward him, its nails clicking on the stone floor, and Cassian fixed his eyes on the worn khaki fabric stretched across his knees. The growl trailed off and it hesitated, cocking its great head to one side. He stayed immobile. It lowered its head, wedged its muzzle into the space under his arm and he felt hot breath through his shirt as it sniffed his scent. He stared down at the coarse fur of her ruff, brindled light and dark brown, and prayed that he smelled more trustworthy than he was. He must: if animals could smell dishonesty, as some claimed, he’d have been dead years ago.

The great dark head lifted and the wolf pushed her cold nose into the side of his neck. Her teeth rested against his skin; the pointed tip of one canine dented the hollow of his collarbone. A hard huff of breath escaped her and she butted him with the top of her skull, pushing his head to the side. Cassian tucked his chin down in a useless attempt to protect himself and waited for his throat to be torn out.

She put her muzzle under his jaw and shoved, hard enough to push his head against the wall. Now would come the teeth tearing through his skin, ripping at his jugular… Nothing happened. The wolf let out an impatient whine.

“What do you want?” Cassian’s voice was raspy with tension.

She ducked her head and nosed at his right hand. Remembering her warning, Cassian slowly curled his fingers under to protect them. Impatiently, the wolf nudged harder at his limp unresisting hand, pushing the crown of her skull underneath it. He didn’t move. She wiggled her head farther under his palm, like Bee when he wanted a pat…

“Is that what you want? A scratch?” Cassian dared to twitch his fingers, just enough to ruffle the softer fur between her ears, and she shoved back with a low canine groan of pleasure.

“Good girl,” he breathed, his throat dry. She grunted again. He rubbed her ears some more and she lowered her head to his knee, thumping down to lean heavily against his leg. He stroked the long sleek line of her back but he kept coming back to scratch gently at the thick ruff of fur around her neck—especially when he found a certain spot behind her right ear that made her whuff in pleasure, leg twitching. He didn’t dare touch her belly, though, even when she rolled halfway over to leave it exposed. That seemed too presumptuous.

She struggled to her feet and sniffed his neck again, the cold damp circle of her nose dragging across his skin. Her tongue came out and licked a rough stripe up his throat, across his cheek, and he jerked away in surprise.

“Uh. Maybe not,” he said. “I don’t know what Jyn would think of that.”

The wolf cocked her head and whined again. Cassian distracted her by burying both of his hands in her heavy ruff and scratching. “Good girl,” he said, his voice falling into the soothing cadence of praise. “Lovely girl.”

She rested her heavy head against his chest and sighed.

In the grainy light of dawn, Cassian woke to a hand over his mouth. His right arm tingled with pins and needles in a way that spoke of a weight recently lifted, like someone had been sleeping on it. He turned his head slowly, carefully.

Jyn was kneeling on the floor at his side, naked and completely unconcerned with covering herself. He tried not to see anything. Her eyes—not the wolf’s but the woman’s—met his and silently warned him to be quiet. He nodded and she lifted her hand.

“I know the door code. I’ll let you out now,” she whispered hoarsely. “You can be off the planet before Saw knows what happened.”

Cassian swallowed. “What about you?”

“What do you mean?” she said.

“You said you don’t want to be their monster—come with me. No one will put you in a cage.” That was a promise he couldn’t possibly keep, but what was worse, he meant it.

A tangled strand of hair fell into her eyes. He lifted a hand to stroke it behind her ear before he thought about it, and pulled away hastily. It wasn’t wise to take liberties with this woman, even if the wolf had liked it.

She tilted her head in a feral gesture, studying him, and for a moment, pale green fire reflected at the back of her eyes. Then she nodded, once. “She trusts you, so I will.”

[read on AO3]

#prompt fills #jyn x cassian #rebelcaptain #(sort of)#au of an alternate first meeting au #my fic

42 notes · View notes