#i fell out of love finally but it still hurts

[bvidzsoo]

Haunted me, haunting you

⁀➷ District 12 ⭒ District 12 was the smallest and poorest of the thirteen districts of Panem; their main industry is coal mining; victors: Lucy Gray Baird, Haymitch Abernathy, Katniss Everdeen, Peeta Mellark

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: victor!Song Mingi x female reader

⁀➷ Warning: cursing, ptsd, panic attacks, violence, blood, mentions of death, hunting, injuries ⁀➷ Word count: 19.7k ⁀➷ Rating: mature, nc-17 ⁀➷ Genre: Hunger Games!au; acquittances since childhood to lovers!au, set before Katniss and Peeta became victors ⁀➷ Summary: After the 73rd Hunger Games, Song Mingi wasn't the same. The spark in his eyes was gone, his once bright smile disappeared and his face became ashen, cheeks hollow, he was merely a shell of the man he once used to be. It hurt seeing him lose himself to the trauma he was forced to endure in the Arena, still haunted by memories...memories of killing someone you both cared about, someone who meant the world to you. Will you be able to help Mingi before it's too late? But most importantly, will Mingi be able to let you in when you bear the very same face he was forced to murder in the Arena in order to become a victor?

A/N: Y'all! My lovelies, it's here!! My thesis was about The Hunger Games and I actually came up with the plot back in like...May?? Uh, anyways, no more gatekeeping this story too lmao, let's all thank Choi San for his appearance this weekend at fashion week, because his outfits inspired me to finally write this oneshot and also come up with a story for him, so, stay tuned! ^^ This piece is actually so very dear to me, I absolutely loved writing it and I just really want to hug Mingi in this, so I really hope you'll love it and enjoy it as much as I did while writing. If I forgot to mention any warnings, let me know so that I can fix it, and sorry for any mistakes, they do slip through sometimes when I proofread. Let me know what you thought of this oneshot, your feedback is always greatly appreciated! Enjoy now! ^^ divider

            His hair was outgrown again, black strands fell into his small and sharp eyes, obscuring them from the world. He had a certain crazed haze in them, irises shaking as the warm brown was overtaken by darkness, a never-ending blackness. The meadow was silent apart from the breeze rustling the leaves, twigs snapping underneath the weight of our feet if we didn’t watch where we stepped. It was quiet apart from the surprised sound I had made and his pants, hurried and frantic as if he was still trying to catch his breath, as if he was frightened by my mere presence. And perhaps he was as our weapons pointed at each other. My hideout had been behind a large bush while his had been behind a tree, wide enough to hide his tall and lanky form. You wouldn’t be able to tell he had lost weight due to the excessive clothes he always wore, but if you knew where to look, you’d spot his sunken collarbones and sharp cheekbones, hands decorated with veins that popped out and a jawline that seemed unnaturally sharp.

My body finally relaxed as it registered no danger, my arm going lax as I lowered my bow and arrow. It took a few more seconds for the man standing in front of me to mirror my actions, eyebrows furrowed deeply with conflict on his face. I knew why he was looking at me like that, a striking reminder of the crimes he was forced to commit, but I didn’t let that deter me from the kindness I always showed to him.

“Hello,” I spoke up softly, mindful of the animals around us and the fact that he was here to hunt too, “I’m sorry for startling you.”

He didn’t speak up, he rarely did when he was in my vicinity—not that he spoke much around people ever since the Games—but that didn’t throw me off from continuously treating him like a human being, something he was, had always been, will continue being. I knew many didn’t treat him like that anymore, everyone threw him glares and spat harsh words at him, but the absent look in his eyes never changed. It was like he wasn’t really there.

“Are you just starting your hunt, by chance?” I questioned, placing my arrow in its holster as I continued holding onto my bow. Despite having lowered his weapon—a bow and arrow, as well—his fingers still curled tightly around the butt of the arrow, almost as if his body refused to relax in my presence. I understood why.

“No.” I tried not to show my surprise when he answered verbally, his voice a low rasp and a deep rumble in his chest. It hadn’t always been like that, when we were younger, his voice used to be squeaky almost like a mouse and oftentimes shrill when he giggled or laughed.

“I have just come out to hunt,” I continued, keeping the soft smile on my lips, but he wasn’t looking at me anymore as I watched him struggle to release his arrow, “Would you like to join me?”

He stiffened again, and I knew why, but his movements became frantic all of a sudden, the arrow slipped in its holster and the bow was back around his wide shoulders. He looked up, face almost pained as he stared at mine deeply, then he shook his head. I didn’t move nor say anything as he suddenly took off, feet tangling in weed and almost sending him flying onto the floor of the forest, but I didn’t help him. I knew he’d hate it, he didn’t let anyone touch him, so I just stayed put and willed myself to watch him as he just barely regained his balance. I wanted to help, but he didn’t allow me, he never has and never will. The meadow was wide, covered in lush green weeds, trees, bushes and colourful flowers, fallen twigs and leaves, logs and rocks, but he still came towards me, not avoiding my body. It was new, most of the time he’d walk around me and not even spare me another glance, but today his eyes were piercing and his stance held more confidence than I have seen in him ever since the Games. My smile didn’t slip off my lips, I was grateful that he wasn’t so keen on avoiding me anymore. But still, almost as if he realized what he was doing, his steps veered away and he went around me just last minute, the fabric of his forest green jacket brushing against my knuckles. I swallowed, nervous for no reason as I turned my head to look after him, “Goodbye, Mingi.”

He flinched when I said his name, he always did and perhaps always will, but instead of ignoring me he looked back too, jaw clenched, but he offered a silent greeting with a nod of his head. My smile widened and his eyes did too at the motion, then he paled, body visibly shaking as he suddenly took off in a sprint, leaving my heart aching and hands trembling as he disappeared from view, my legs giving out as I sat on the muddy floor of the forest. I couldn’t blame him, I never did and I never will, but he made it infinitely harder to cope with the pain of having lost my twin sister because of him.

            The hunt had been successful, I managed to catch four wild ducks, which meant plenty of good coins for a tasty dinner for three. I have started training to become a nurse around a year ago, right after losing my sister, and that meant we were tight on money. I couldn’t say my family struggled much despite being from District 12, but after my sister’s death, it felt like things had slowed down. Money started coming in rather scarcely and it made me realize that she had been an important contributor to our income. Unable to sit back and watch my parents struggle, I decided to follow her path. It had been her dream to become a nurse, to reach the Capitol and become a great doctor, but the Games took both her and her dream away from us. It was a hard blow, it was hard because Mingi could’ve sacrificed himself for a woman who had a whole future planned ahead of herself unlike him, who failed to finish school in his last year and was supposed to work in a mine for the rest of his life. He was selfish, scared, and desperate to remain alive, all reasonable emotions when you’re faced with the choice to kill someone or be killed.

I never blamed him for killing my twin sister, I never hated him for being selfish and shooting his arrow straight into her heart. At least she left this terrifying world quickly and painlessly. I never wished death upon Mingi when my mother wailed while my father held her in his arms and rocked her, sobbing just as loudly as her when the camera span on my sister’s lifeless eyes and face. I never blamed Mingi for her death because he sobbed just as hard as us after the kill, holding her frail frame in his arms as he screamed towards the sky, words unheard as the cameras didn’t record audio too. I didn’t blame him when I found refuge in the meadow my sister loved so much, curled up in a ball in the tall grass as I cried loudly, chest aching and ears ringing until nightfall, when I finally felt empty and numb. And I still didn’t blame him when he returned home, crowned as the winner of last year’s Hunger Games, rewarded with so much money it would last him generations and a house at the Victor’s Village so big three families could fit inside. And despite the pain I felt when the train came to a screeching halt and he got off with empty eyes and sunken cheeks, our eyes meeting for a brief moment, I couldn’t hate him or blame him because the Song Mingi once everyone had known was gone.

The sky had turned darker as the sun hid behind the trees, the moon taking its place in the sky as mist settled upon the forests that surrounded our district. And despite the nightfall, the Hob was alive and buzzing with people who were desperate to trade their goods in exchange for some coins in order to survive another day. The four wild ducks I had caught, I had cut up and taken their feathers off, were displayed on the small table I managed to fetch from behind the building that has seen better days, and I set it up next to an old lady who sold trinkets and jewellery that looked older than even her. I have promised to give her the smaller duck in trade for a silver bracelet that had one pearl. I had never seen a pearl up close, and despite knowing that I’d never wear it, I’d figure out eventually what I wanted to do with it. Perhaps I’ll give it as a gift to my father, since it looked way too big for a woman’s wrist, or perhaps I’ll bring it to my sister’s grave and leave it as a gift to her. I didn’t dwell on the thought much.

The Hob was well-lit despite the old lamps that hung above our heads, and the late summer chill had settled inside, prompting everyone to wear their warmer clothes. I had accepted the battered blanket the old lady handed me when she saw me shivering, and promised to return tomorrow with ointment for her cut-up hands. I couldn’t tell whether she had nobody to look out for her or if her family had simply abandoned her, but I have promised myself after my sister’s death that I would help those who needed help yet couldn’t pay with coins for my services. A flower, cheese and bread, or even a small trinket would be good enough for me, I’d make use of it if it meant I helped a soul that needed attention and care.

Three ducks still sat on the table in front of me and I smiled warmly at everyone who wandered towards me, hungry eyes fixating on the ducks. The man that stood in front of me was a mine worker, I knew him because he worked with my father numerous times before.

“Hello, sir.” I greeted him and his eyes briefly looked up at me.

“Your father must be proud of you for helping out,” He muttered under his breath as he scratched his already irritated neck, “he speaks of you a lot on our breaks. How much for one duck?”

“Five coins will do, sir,” I answered him politely, but as he looked inside his pouch his face had turned ashen, then furious.

“Five is too much, child, who do you think can pay so much?” His voice turned harsh, and the lady next to me cast a glance our way.

“I’m sorry, sir, but I risk my life stepping outside the boundaries of our district, five coins are cheap for my sacrifices and the duck.” I didn’t let him waver my resolve, I knew how people were here. They would try to trick their way out of paying the worth of the items, and I wouldn’t fall for his manipulations. But the man seemed displeased as his fist came down on the table, making me jump. I wasn’t a violent person, but I was glad for the knife that was hidden underneath my clothes, pressing against my hip as a reminder that it was there. The old lady now looked at us, eyebrows furrowing.

“Maybe you should return to your little nursing school and fuck off to the Capitol like your sister had—”

“If you cannot pay five coins, walk along!” The old lady snapped next to me, eyes hardened and voice raised as it turned heads, curious eyes watching the tense exchange. The man threw her a glance and scoffed before he reached inside his pouch and retrieved the coins I had asked for, throwing them on the table as he grabbed one duck and stalked off. I sighed but gave the old lady a thankful smile and collected the coins, crouching down to retrieve one as it had tumbled to the ground. The cacophony of the market seemed to quieten at once until it turned into just murmurs, and I stood back up with a confused look on my face. I was a bit far from the entrance of the Hob and couldn’t see far ahead due to the number of people inside, but when the crowd started parting for a certain person, I understood their reaction.

Despite the camouflage he tried wearing, his clean and thick clothes managed to make him stick out like a sore thumb, his small eyes sharper now that the lower half of his face was concealed by a black silk scarf. He still wore the same jacket as earlier today, a satchel bag sitting against his hip as he wandered further inside the market. People whispered behind his back and stepped aside when he came too close, and I watched as people glared at him behind his back, pointing fingers and no doubt throwing insults at him. I wondered if people from other districts treated their Victors the same way people here treated Mingi. Maybe it was because my sister was a beloved figure in our district, a professional healer and always kind to everyone, maybe it was because Mingi had lost himself halfway into the games and murdered those who crossed his path viciously. Behind all the stares, glares and whispers lay something deeper. It was fear because people were reminded of their animalistic side, of who they could turn into when faced with the question of whether they wanted to live or die. They were scared because everyone knew they would do the same Mingi had done, kill an innocent and kind person in order to survive.

It was almost as if the market had frozen over when Mingi finally reached my humble table, silence so loud it irked my ears as everyone watched on edge our exchange. His eyes didn’t settle on my face for long, reluctant to look at me when so many were watching us, but I just smiled and looked at him with kindness, “Good evening, Mingi.”

I could hear gasps even, mouths hanging open as the Victor halted in front of the ducks I managed to hunt, eyes sweeping over them as if he did a quick count in his head. Even if minuscule, his eyes conveyed surprise and somewhat admiration when we looked up at me again, but upon seeing my smile, his eyes steeled, becoming devoid of any emotion. He nodded his head once in acknowledgement, then swiftly walked off, eyes set on a table that was littered with old and new weapons alike. Mingi had the money to buy the best of the best, but he always came to the Hob, late at night, probably hoping fewer people would be here. He could afford luxuries, but he preferred helping out those in need. He never said anything when they demanded more of him, he just wordlessly handed them the coins and left with a quiet ‘Thank you’. People catalogued him as selfish and ruthless, but he was deeply caring and rather selfless. It all mattered on the perspective you had of him and whether you wanted to spot the good in him or not.

Once Mingi was on his way towards other stalls and tables, the market seemed to regain its liveliness while remaining aware and alert of his presence amongst the crowd. Nobody approached him and nobody spoke to him, the vendors gave him second glances and seemed reluctant to acknowledge him despite the money they knew he could offer them. My eyes remained on his tall form, his shoulders hunched forward, as people passed by my table, sometimes stopping to inquire about the price of the wild ducks. A girl, too young to be here, bounced towards my table as she held onto her mother’s hand, eyes stuck on the ducks. My heart ached at the sight of her frail frame and the ghastliness of her mother’s face, and when she tried to veer her daughter away because they barely had any money, I cleared my throat and stepped around the table.

“Hello,” I greeted them kindly, and smiled at the girl as her eyes shone with enthusiasm, “Would you like to buy some wild duck?”

“We don’t have enough money, sorry.” The mother muttered embarrassed and I quickly shook my head.

“Well, you’re in luck tonight then, because I’m not looking for money.” I have acquired ten coins as I have sold two ducks, and while I still needed at least ten more, everyone had to make sacrifices and I wasn’t about to let them walk away without the duck in a bag and in their hands.

“But—”

“Come.” I beckoned the little girl towards myself, disregarding the mother as her eyes widened, “Which one would you like?”

I crouched down to be at the same height as the girl and she smiled widely at me, eyes sweeping over the two ducks that have remained on the table. She stuck her tongue out as she seemed to analyse both, then pointed to the larger one and I grinned back at her.

“That’s a good one,” I said with a chuckle and the girl shyly ran back to her mom to hide behind her skirt. I grabbed a paper bag and carefully placed the duck inside of it as the mother’s eyes followed my every move.

“I cannot accept this.” She tried to refuse but I was having none of it as I handed the bag to the little girl instead.

“You can.” I said with a reassuring smile, “My mother is looking for a seamstress, perhaps you can help her out sometime?”

I knew the woman was a seamstress whose business wasn’t flourishing anymore, but she was still clinging on to it, trying to do her best as she raised her daughter. Nobody knew who her father was and they had been treated harshly ever since she was born. Tears sprung into the mother’s eyes and she bowed her head deeply, “Thank you, I’ll make sure to do a good job. Bring in your clothes too, if they need fixing.”

“I sure will, thank you.” I bowed back and looked at the little girl, “Do you like pies?”

“I do!” She exclaimed happily and I chuckled.

“Well, then, I’ll see you two sometime next week with a pie and three dresses.” The mother bowed her head again and thanked me as a tear fell down her cheek, then she veered her daughter towards the exit as she blabbered on about how she loved duck meat the most. With a content smile on my lips, I walked back behind my table as I felt eyes on me. The old lady had a thoughtful look on her face as I faced her, and then she looked towards the crowd and sighed loudly.

“Your parents have raised you well, both you and your sister.” The old lady said and I nodded, agreeing with her, “She was kind too, but you are kinder, my dear. You have never expected anything in exchange for your actions, ever since you were little.”

“If we don’t stick together, then who will help us out?” I asked, eyebrows furrowing and my mood souring, “Surely not President Snow and the people from the Capitol, right?”

The old lady gave me a long look as she hummed, eyes looking back onto the crowd as I heard someone yelp. Curious, I turned my head and tried to pinpoint whoever had called out in fright, but the crowd was big and I couldn’t see anyone.

“Be brave and honest, but careful, even the walls have ears, my dear.” The old lady advised as men started shouting, the crowd crying out in fright again as suddenly it started dispersing not far from us, the people hid behind tables and next to vendors as another man exclaimed in pain. My eyebrows furrowed as I perked up, walking around my table as the crowd was clearing and I could almost see what was happening up ahead.

“What is the matter—” My eyes widened when I realized someone had Mingi’s torso pressed against a table, face down, wrists held behind his back as he struggled to break free as he hissed and glared viciously. My eyes widened as suddenly he kicked his leg backwards, and the man holding him folded over in pain as he released the Victor, scrambling back as Mingi whirled around with a wild look in his eyes, hands held out protectively in front of himself. The crowd steeled for a second, my heartbeat quickening as I realized he had the same look in his eyes as earlier today. Then, almost at once, three men jumped forward and tried to restrain him as Mingi pulled a knife from his pocket, sneering at whoever jumped at him, his chest rising and falling rapidly. I didn’t know what led to this altercation, but something felt wrong. Mingi was inoffensive, he never attacked first and he wouldn’t even hurt a fly even if it bothered him. Someone must’ve done or said something that made him so defensive.

But the men didn’t care as more women screamed, and I gripped the edge of my table as they jumped towards him, trying to take him down. Mingi was alone and despite being strong, he couldn’t defend himself against three men who were stronger and really angry. The way he held his knife was obvious enough that he didn’t intend to harm anyone, it was obvious enough to me that he was scared. My heart leapt into my chest as a man jumped at him from behind, unseen by almost everyone, an arm going around Mingi’s neck as the one to his right slapped the knife out of his tight hold. Then, his knees were kicked out from underneath him and he fell with a terrified cry, trashing around as the men tried to restrain his frantic movements. I took off without realizing my legs were taking me in their direction, heart beating fast as my ears rang, head aching the more Mingi’s cries started sounding less aggressive and more scared, but nobody seemed to hear them or care about them.

I pushed people out of the way, unapologetic and frantic, running around tables and jumping over crates as they were in my way, the only goal in my mind to reach him. Held down like that, his eyes were wide and filled with helplessness, the same look had been reflected in my sister’s when she had been shot in the heart. Mingi was still trashing around but his body was trembling now and it was audible that he was struggling to breathe. My body was lit with deep anger as I realized everyone was feeding off of his fear instead of realizing he was having a panic attack. The last person I pushed aside gave me a look and went to grab at me, but I threw them a menacing glare before I broke free of the crowd finally, panting as the attention was on both Mingi and me now. The men who held him were smirking and mocking him, but a look of confusion crossed their faces when I stood in front of them, frantic and desperate to stop this.

“Stop it!” I snapped, voice a lot more high-pitched than I expected it to be, “Let go of him!”

“He’s like a rabid dog,” One man hissed, “Like hell, are we releasing him. He’ll hurt us—”

“I said,” My voice held danger as I itched to grab my knife and hold it threateningly towards the men, “let him fucking go!”

And if my scream didn’t chill the onlookers, then Mingi’s helpless whimper did as his eyes screwed shut tightly, even his head shaking as he struggled to breathe. I didn’t wait for the men to listen to me as I scrambled towards Mingi, falling to my knees with a loud thud as my knees shook from the impact, but I didn’t care as he was finally released. He flinched and tried to flee, but my cold fingertips traced his forehead as his eyes snapped open, wide and shaking as they bore into mine.

“It’s okay,” My voice was quiet and gentle, assuring, “I’m going to take this off.”

I gently grabbed the scarf that covered his nose and lips, and a strong hand suddenly grabbed at my bicep. The men tried to touch Mingi again, but I threw them a warning look.

“You’ll be able to breathe better, Mingi,” I said with the same softness as the grip on my arm continued to tighten, but Mingi didn’t object as I slowly pulled the scarf off his lower face. He gasped and clung onto me with both hands now, lips trembling as his body shook. He looked smaller than he was, he looked on the verge of passing out. With a shaky breath, I traced his thick eyebrows and brushed his long bangs out of his eyes as I offered him the smallest smile.

“Mingi, what we’ll do next is easy, alright?” He gasped as he was hyperventilating, but his eyes were stuck to my lips, “We’ll breathe together, alright? We inhale big and exhale long, good? You’re safe, Mingi.”

I didn’t know how much my words managed to reach his mind, but I started taking big inhales and long exhales, hoping that he’d soon follow my lead. People gawked at us and murmured, horrified that I was helping the man who mercilessly killed my twin sister. I didn’t care, Mingi was human too and he was suffering. It was right in front of their noses, the fact that he was still struggling and paying the consequences of his actions, but nobody seemed to actually care that he wasn’t just a rich and scary Victor now.

“In,” I inhaled, holding Mingi’s cold face in my hands as his fingers dug into my cardigan, “Out.”

And he was slowly catching on to how to breathe in and out, his chest expanding and then falling back as he emptied his lungs. His body was shaking and he would still whimper or become smaller when someone made a sound too loud, but I was here, and I was determined to help him regain his senses, regain himself. It took him a few good minutes, but his frantic breaths have found a new rhythm, much calmer and quieter than before, inhaling and exhaling at the same time with me. A small smile crossed my face when I realized he was slowly returning to himself, my thumbs gently rubbed the skin under his eyes, trying to bring the smallest form of comfort. His grip relaxed around my biceps and his body leaned towards mine as if it was trying to drink in my warmth, I let him nuzzle his face into my hands as his body finally stopped trembling. The people around us went quiet and I gulped, trying to keep my composure in front of everyone. I was mad, I was angry and I wanted to scream at them for treating him like an animal, for caging him in and making him feel like he was in danger, like he was back in the arena once again, triggering a panic attack and probably unwanted memories that he tried to bury deep down.

“You’re safe, Mingi.” His eyes snapped open and bore into mine, irises expanded and still alarmed as he took breaths through his mouth, hands slipping down from my biceps to my wrists. His grip was painful and I understood that he wanted my hands off his skin, so I pulled them back into my lap, but he didn’t let go of me just yet. His eyes were shaking again, tears sprung into them and he gulped, subtly shaking his head. He had become paler than he was before, and I knew the crowd was too much, the eyes and the whispers, the fingers that were pointed at us and the sneers, the judgemental stares. I gripped his wrists back and stood, looking down at Mingi as I silently asked him to stand as well.

His eyes continued boring into mine, face ashen, but at least he knew he was safe as long as he didn’t let go of me.

            The petals of the soft pink flower felt dainty underneath my fingertips as I gently traced them, a small smile on my lips as I inhaled their scent before rearranging the bouquet in the vase. I had brought them in from the meadow just yesterday, so they were still fresh and flourishing. The meadow was full of the pinkish coloured Musk Mallows which was my twin sister’s favourite flower. She’d always gush about their softness and beauty, collecting a small bouquet for herself to decorate her grim side of our shared room. I wasn’t fond of the flower at first, its smell irritating my nostrils, but with the passing of years and sneaking to the meadow before sunset, I started loving their familiarity. The meadow was peaceful, quiet, and far away from the Peacekeepers and the grey haze of District 12. It was a reminder of what our Earth must’ve looked like before the nuclear war destroyed it and forced it to become what Panem is today.

The pink flowers reminded me of freedom and of my sister, of a dream that was possible to achieve if you never gave up and fought for it. It reminded me of love and laughter and the look on my sister’s face whenever she cradled it to her chest, of the chastising of our parents for sneaking out once again, but the fondness on their faces when my sister and I would sprint to our rooms giggling and talking about going to the meadow again tomorrow to make flower crowns for our mother and father. It reminded me of tender touches and a quiet love that you didn’t have to talk about or scream it out into the world for everyone to see it or understand it, it reminded me of a toothy smile and small eyes that once used to laugh, of sneaked glances and shy looks passed between classes.

The deep voice of my father's and my mother’s gentler one carried outside of their room, all the way to the kitchen as I changed the flowers’ water, my parents’ murmur gentle and warm. The water was cold against my skin and it made me shiver despite the warm summer breeze that came inside through the open window, and I smiled when I heard footsteps coming into the kitchen. My father was dressed in his overalls, his tools in a handbag and a cap low over his eyes as my mother came following him outside, fussing about the hole in his jacket’s arm. Their love had always been quiet and subtle, it was always about noticing the small things, about doing something quietly for the other one.

“Don’t worry, a small hole won’t make me feel cold down in the mine.” My father’s voice held amusement as he grabbed the jacket out of my mother’s hands. I rearranged the flowers in the vase once I was satisfied with the amount of water inside the glass, and chanced a glance in my parents’ direction.

“But it will seem like your wife is unable to sew it for you,” My mother’s eyebrows were furrowed and I chuckled quietly, picking out seven pink flowers from the bouquet.

“And isn’t that true?” Teasing bordered my father’s tone as he gave my mother a cheeky smile, and she looked away with an embarrassed huff, “Don’t worry, nobody will notice it. It’s rather dark down there.”

“Do you remember the small pink and purple boutique at the square?” I perked up, gaining my parents’ attention as if they were oblivious to my presence.

“The lady who has a daughter now?” My mother asked as she fixed my father’s collar, remaining close by his side.

“Yes, hers.” I nodded, then crouched down to place the flowers I picked out of the vase inside my basket, “She owes me a small favour, we should bring our faulty clothes to her.”

“I heard she’s been struggling,” My father trailed off as he looked at me, but not for too long, then grabbed my mother’s hand, “well then, why not? Everyone needs some coins to make due.”

“Right.” My mother nodded with a smile as I grabbed my basket and mentally prepared myself for a good enough excuse, “We should visit her, then, sometime this week—Y/N, where are you going, honey?”

I froze in front of the front door and tried to look as innocent as possible, “I’ll stop by at a house before I head to the Nursery, one of my patients was sick lately.”

“In the middle of summer?” My father asked with confusion, eyes straying from my face when I looked at him sadly.

“Some old people are barely hanging on, dad.” I muttered but shook off the grim thought, “I’ll see you tonight, right?”

“Sure, take care of yourself.” He said gently and I nodded, eyeing my mother as her fingers curled around my father’s arm just a bit tighter. Working in a mine had always been dangerous, it had always taken away lives way too abruptly and painfully.

“See you, then.” I waved at my parents and they smiled, proud but with sadness bordering their eyes as they never looked at me for too long. I understood why. The face which was mine hadn’t always been just mine, it had once been my twin sister’s too, even if slightly different. I didn’t blame them like I didn’t blame Mingi, and I never got angry at them like I never got angry at Mingi. Everyone suffered and coped in their own way with loss, and when things got too difficult to bear anymore, I knew I would find solace in the meadow that reminded me so much of my sister.

The walk to the Victor’s Village wasn’t too long, but it was midday and the streets were littered with people going on about their day. I greeted those who offered me smiles and I stopped to talk with those who needed my advice as a nurse. Young children laughed and screamed in the courtyard as I passed by the school, pleasant memories flooding my mind as a young girl clung to the gates and waved at me with a giggle. It reminded me of when I tried to scale the gate in order to prove that I was strong, only to fall and twist my ankle as I tried not to wail, but instead swallow the pain and smile when my classmates started fussing over me. It had been—an already—tall and lanky figure that pushed everyone aside with worry on his face as he came to kneel next to me, thick eyebrows furrowed as he clumsily grabbed my leg, applying pressure where it hurt most. I cried out, scaring everyone, and they started shouting at the boy, trying to pull him away from me as they accused him of hurting me, but I didn’t want him to go. His touch was warm and gentle, scared but willing to help, and I only stopped throwing a fit when the other children left him alone and made him pick me up and carry me to the Nursery that was close by. His voice was still scratchy back then, but it was soft and friendly, “You’re safe, Y/N.”

Nervous for no reason, I readjusted the collar of my lavender-coloured dress and then knocked against the perfectly white door, the air a bit clearer over here. The Victor’s Village was just by the borders of District 12, meaning that it was closer to the forest and meadow I loved so much. It was always silent here, and it smelled of flowers and baked goods whenever the Song’s front door was open to let the fresh air in. Only two houses were inhibited inside the Village and at night it could seem eery, almost haunted by all the lives lost in the Hunger Games. But my irrational nervousness came to a stop when the front door opened and an elderly smiling face welcomed me on the other side.

“Oh, my dear,” The elder woman, Mrs. Song, had a surprised look on her face, “I didn’t expect to see you so soon!”

After everything that’s happened at the Hob last night, I wouldn’t have abandoned Mingi, leave him alone to deal with the aftereffects of his panic attack. I stuck to his side and walked him back to the Victor’s Village as no words were exchanged between us, but the fact that he didn’t shuffle too far from my body was the confirmation I needed that he appreciated my presence and persistence. I was a nurse in training, after all, and he was just a person fighting against the demons inside his mind.

“It was due time I brought you a new ointment, Mrs. Song.” I said with a smile as Mingi’s grandmother beckoned me inside, “And I picked fresh flowers yesterday, I figured they would look nice in your kitchen or living room.”

The old lady’s face lit up upon hearing about the flowers, and I had just barely stepped out of my sandals when her hand gripped my wrist and pulled me after herself. Despite the house being managed by an elderly couple and their grandchild, it was in perfect condition and always pristine clear. I have offered to help them out more often, but Mrs. Song had always said that they were doing fine and capable of handling the huge house on their own. I didn’t want to push them or make them feel incapable since they had Mingi back now, thankfully, and they wouldn’t need another pair of hands to help out. While my sister and Mingi were in the Games, I frequently stopped by the Song’s small house to help the elderly couple with anything I could. Sometimes I cooked for them, other times I helped scrub the house clean, and when their legs hurt too much, I would sell their baked goods at the market and bring back the coins for them.

“You’re so sweet,” Mrs. Song mused as she directed me towards the large table in the kitchen, “Take a seat, I made some apple pie just this morning, it’s my Mingi’s favourite. Would you like some too?”

“I wouldn’t want to take it away from him, then, since it’s his favourite—”

“Nonsense.” Mrs. Song waved her hand, hurrying to take a plate and fork, “That boy is so tall but so skinny. He barely eats anything lately, my dear, what should I do to bring back his appetite?”

It’s been almost a year since his Games, and sometimes I found myself throwing up after eating, my sister’s lifeless eyes flashing behind my eyes, a constant reminder that she wasn’t here anymore. That she wouldn’t go to the Capitol and that she wouldn’t become a nurse, never to hunt again or lay in the flower field at the meadow.

“Just be gentle and patient with him, Mrs. Song,” I placed the basket on the table and opened it, “I can’t guarantee he’ll ever be fine, but he’s doing better. I can see it in his eyes.”

“He’s still haunted by memories,” Mrs. Song whispered defeated as I grabbed the flowers and the tin can of ointment for her leg, “but he doesn’t wake up from nightmares so often anymore.”

“He’ll get better with time, he’ll eventually stop blaming himself.” I whispered as I headed towards Mrs. Song, who had paused and had her head lowered, “He’s lucky to have you and Mr. Song, and you’re doing everything you can for him. It’s good, I am glad he has people who love him and support him.”

Mrs. Song hummed and turned her head to look at me, taking the items from my hands. She smelled the flowers and grinned, placing the ointment by the sink as she went to fetch a vase for the pinkish flowers, “I had always been able to tell whether it was your sister or you, you know? Remember when you brought my Mingi candies when he helped you with your homework? Your sister never quite liked him, I once watched her kick him in the shin because he refused to carry her to school on his back.”

I blushed and looked away feeling embarrassed as Mrs. Song started laughing quietly, amused by the recall of a longtime memory, “You’ve always been soft-spoken and calm, you always looked at my Mingi with admiration and understanding in your eyes. I know he’s not—he appreciates everything you’ve done for him since—since that day, and he’s trying to mend your once bond.”

“It was her who volunteered to take my spot,” My throat felt a little tight, like something was bothering it from the inside, “she knew what she’d have to face, she chose her fate willingly. Mingi only did what everyone else did before him and will do after him, I just wish he was …more willing to receive kindness and love.”

Mrs. Song hummed and gave me a long look before she walked back to me, grabbing the curtain of the small window as she pulled it to the side. She had a big smile on her lips as she gazed outside, and I followed her line of sight, stunned by what I saw. Mingi was outside in the back garden with his grandfather, crouched down and digging up the soil as a half-empty sack lay next to him. His grandfather was fanning himself and holding a bottle of water as his mouth moved, telling Mingi something that made him smile. It was small at first, barely a twitch of the corner of his plump and red lips, but then it expanded slowly into something wider. Something which pulled at the corner of his sharp eyes and softened them up, the brown in them brighter and warmer as his smile only became bigger, crooked front teeth on display, boxy and warm. It lit up his sharp face and made him look kind and friendly, so easily lovable, so easily approachable. The smile made his eyes so small you almost couldn’t see them as they creased, long and tall nose scrunching up as his chest started shaking. It looked like when he was sobbing, but now he was laughing, loudly and joyously, and it made it harder to look at him than at the blazing sun.

My breath hitched and something dormant stirred in my chest, something that made my heart pump my blood faster and my palms ball up into fists as my eyes widened, lips parting in surprise the longer I watched the joy expand on his whole face, making him throw back his head, his black hair not obscuring his eyes for once. His skin was pale despite its tan complex, making it obvious that he didn’t spend much time outside anymore, but under the warm rays of the sun, it made him glow brightly and breathtakingly. He looked casual in his white shirt, which threatened to fall off his right shoulder, and his dark blue trousers were dirtied by the soil his knees dug into. He looked gorgeous, beautiful and mesmerizing, and I have just realized I never wanted to see him cry or frown or tremble in fear ever again. I wanted Mingi to be happy, to be joyous and grateful that he was still alive. I wanted him to smile and laugh every day, his warm eyes trained on me—on my face—without pain or hesitance lingering in them. I wanted Mingi to see me and not my dead twin sister in the reflection of my features.

I gulped, suddenly aware of the tears in my eyes when Mrs. Song placed her wrinkly hand on top of my fisted one, gently squeezing it. Her eyes bore into the side of my head and I sniffed once, trying to gather myself and blink the tears away. Mrs. Song remained silent, but she hummed and gently helped my hands relax as I uncurled them, pressing them into the cold countertop, “He smiles like that from time to time, when he’s able to let go of everything and just be in the moment. I know you miss my grandson, and I know you miss your sister even more.”

“I was never meant to lose both of them,” I whispered, voice strained as I forced my head to turn, Mingi’s laughter and happiness burned into the forefront of my mind, “The Games were never supposed to take away the sister I loved with my whole being, and they were never supposed to take away the innocence and light in Mingi.”

“Life isn’t always fair, my dear,” Mrs. Song said as she let the curtain fall back in place, “Sometimes unexplainable things happen and if we dwell on them trying to find an explanation, whether ordinary or divine, we threaten to lose ourselves in an impossible quest. You’re stronger than anyone has ever thought you’d be, don’t let the darkness get to you like it gets to most of us. You have no idea how much it means that there’s someone who views Mingi like a human being besides me and his grandfather, I was afraid he’d end up like Haymitch, but he’s still fighting and trying to do his best.”

“Mingi’s stronger than he gives credit to himself,” I said with conviction as I walked towards the sink to fetch the ointment I brought, “He’ll never end up like poor Haymitch. I’ll have to check on him soon.”

“He’s still breathing, if you’re worried about him.” Mrs. Song’s tone was sour as she knocked on the window, “I went over today, brought him some pie too. It was the first time since we moved here that he didn’t slam the door in my face, I suspect apple pie is also his favourite.”

Mrs. Song and I chuckled to ourselves as we heard the front door open and then close loudly, manly voices conversing about whether the new seeds they had planted would grow out fast or not. I opened the tin can and handed it to Mrs. Song so that she could smell it and realize I had infused some cinnamon into it since it’s her favourite scent. Her eyes lit up and she grinned just as the men appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, Mr. Song’s laughter gruff, followed by a scratchy cough. I let my eyes fall on the grandfather and grandson, their eyes and noses very similar, it seemed like the traits had carried over to Mingi too. His grandparents weren’t tall people, but judging by the small fragments of memories of Mingi’s parents, I could remember his father being an intimidatingly tall man. Unfortunately, he died in a mining accident when Mingi and I were barely five years old, and his mother unfortunately died not even two years later due to an incurable sickness.

“Oh, Miss Park, what brings you our way?” Mr. Song asked in surprise as he tried to stand up straighter, dusting off his pants and making soil fall onto the clean floors. Mrs. Song’s eyes narrowed but she didn’t say something as Mr. Song acted like he was innocent.

“I wanted to bring Mrs. Song a new ointment for her leg, hopefully, this will work better.” I tried to act like it didn’t hurt when Mingi’s expression fell once he realized it was me who stood in their kitchen, “Is your chest alright, Mr. Song? Do your lungs still hurt when you cough?”

“Ah, no, don’t worry about me!” He quickly brushed my concerns off, but my eyes were stuck on Mingi as he shuffled on his feet, shoulders hunching as if he was trying to look smaller. He didn’t look my way, sharp eyes pointed to the floor, but his face was void of any expression. I could still see his smile in front of my eyes, I could even imagine what his deep laughter sounded like—probably higher-pitched because it had always been breathy—but it remained as an unfulfilled desire because Mingi would never look at me like that, just with anguish and pain in his eyes, “And are you well? I hope our Mingi didn’t inconvenience you too much last night—”

“Helping him, or anyone for the matter, is never an inconvenience to me, Mr. Song.” I didn’t mean to cut the elder man off, nor to sound too snappy, but I couldn’t help myself. The anger and rage I felt last night for the treatment Mingi was forced to face at the Hob still simmered just underneath my skin, making me sensitive, “It wouldn’t have even happened if people stopped seeing him the way the Capitol has painted him, I—I can’t just stand and watch them torment him, I’m sorry. But I’m glad you’re feeling better today, Mingi.”

The Victor flinched when I said his name, gripping his left arm as he started scratching it through the fabric of the loose white shirt he wore, but he nodded his head and briefly looked up at me, a glimpse of gratitude visible on his face, “Thank you for stepping in.”

“Anytime,” I said, and then Mingi was looking anywhere but at me, my presence in his home clearly making him feel uncomfortable. Realizing that despite his grandparents always welcoming me eagerly with open arms, Mingi still didn’t feel comfortable nor keen on seeing me in the one place where he was supposed to be safe from everyone and everything. I understood why, so I didn’t let the thought sour my mood or bring my spirits down, instead, I went and gathered my basket with a smile on my face and glanced at Mrs. Song, “Thank you for the apple pie, but I’m needed at the Nursery, I’ll have it some other time perhaps. Mr. Song, don’t exert yourself too much and if you’re feeling unwell, let me know.”

The men stood aside so that I could leave the kitchen and despite making sure I didn’t walk too close to Mingi, my knuckles still brushed against the soft fabric of his shirt, just barely but it felt soft and warm. My body stiffened, but I didn’t stop despite Mingi’s head turning to look after me, eyebrows furrowed as he looked conflicted.

“Goodbye!” I called before I was out the door, forced to take deep breaths as my heart was hammering against my chest. I had thought I could do this. But the longer he looked at me with disdain, reluctance and pain in his eyes, the more my chest ached and my lungs constricted, trying to call out for the man I was missing, for the boy who always smiled when he saw me and averted his eyes shyly if he looked for too long. But I wasn’t giving up, I couldn’t, and I wouldn’t treat him like the monster the Capitol made him out to be.

            The Hob once was a place filled with laughter and good disposition, a place where people went to dance, listen to music and enjoy their evenings. Now, after the war that destroyed District 13, the Hob became a mere warehouse that was worn down by the passing of time, destroyed by harsh winters and scorching summers. With its missing windows and hollow insides, the people of District 12 made a place out of it that would host illegal night markets, a means of trying to earn more coins in plus despite it being illegal. The Peacemakers knew of it but they never interfered as long as those guarding it got something out of it too. But with the disappearance of what the Hob once used to be, it needed a replacement, a place that would bring people together still, bring some light into their dark every day. The Hut was that place, an old house of a family that have long died since, in a slightly better-off part of District 12. As expected, the Peacekeepers knew of this place too, but they rarely came to bother people as it was close to the mayor’s house, thus leading to fewer displays of aggressive behaviour. But there were exceptions, there always were exceptions.

The people of District 12 couldn’t be considered hostile or unfriendly, but they knew how to hold grudges, and they weren’t afraid to show their hatred toward one another. It’s this reason why they so blatantly mistreated Mingi, swearing and cursing at his face, brave to lay their hands on him without thinking that it could trigger memories from the Games, making him lash out. At the Hob, when he had a lapse of judgment, his panic attack was induced by something that triggered a terrible memory from the games, leading to the altercation. But people seemed to not understand this, ignorant and unwilling to hear me out and realize that they were hurting him more by their attitudes towards him, ostracizing him even more. My friends, who had always known how I felt about Mingi, were just as ignorant at first, blaming him and mocking him, but they’ve gotten better at accepting him and leaving him alone. They weren’t children anymore, I wouldn’t be held accountable for their actions and words, but I could at least try and open their eyes to reality.

The Hut was almost overflowing by the time me and my friends had arrived, rushing inside as the summer breeze bit at our exposed skin. The long-sleeved dress I wore was dark green, like the forest I’d go hunting at, and I had a dainty brown belt around my waist that my sister had gifted me a long time ago. It was made of leather and it must’ve cost a fortune to her, but she smiled widely and clapped her hands when I opened the small gift box, my eyes widening at the expensive clothing item. Now, knowing that she loved it when I wore it, I made sure to wear it as often as I could even if she wasn’t here to see me. It’s the thought that mattered, and I knew she’d be elated if she were here.

We managed to catch an empty table, just about fitting for seven people as we settled in our chairs, voices raised as the live band played their upbeat music, gathering dancing couples close by the scene and cheering everyone on to come and dance. My friends wanted to grab each a pint of beer before we’d mingle with others our age, so I volunteered to walk up to the bar and order us drinks as three Peacekeepers off duty had approached our table, obviously trying to charm the single ladies who sat there. I wasn’t keen on them, they were ruthless in their practices and unforgiving and fake even when they didn’t wear their uniforms. I had no interest in men like them, men who chose to serve the Capitol and earn a paycheck by asserting violence on others.

I pushed my way through the crowd and tried to dodge every drunk person that came my way, but someone had pushed me from behind just as I neared the bar, making me fall forward and crash into someone’s back. The person stiffened instantly and before I could panic, the familiar scent of the person reached my nose. The fabric of his sweater was soft underneath my fingertips, obviously being a gift from someone wealthy as nobody from District 12 could’ve afforded it. It was beige and had an intriguing black pattern knitted into it, making the sweater look even more cozy. I stepped back and up to the bar, cheeks flushed from the heat inside the place but also from stumbling so clumsily into Mingi.

“I’m sorry,” I spoke up as our eyes met, his widening as mine looked away, “someone pushed me and I lost my footing.”

Mingi didn’t answer, but his hand curled around his pint, knuckles turning white as he squeezed it. His eyes remained stuck on me, though, something unusual as I fumbled with my small purse to find enough coins for my order. I threw him a quick glance and he quickly averted his eyes, staring ahead as his eyebrows furrowed. His hair, surprisingly, was brushed out of his eyes and his cheeks were tinged pink, finally not so pale and sickly looking. His plump lips were chapped but Mingi didn’t seem to mind that as he took a small sip of his own beer. I leaned over the bar and motioned towards the one managing it that I needed seven pints. I wouldn’t be able to carry them to my table, but someone would help, I didn’t worry about that. Now that I had to wait, I turned my body to face Mingi’s, and watched as he stiffened when he realized I was looking at him.

“Are you here by yourself?” I asked with a small smile on my lips and he nodded, picking at a thread of his sleeve as they were longer than his hands and covered them. The sweater created the illusion that it swallowed Mingi’s broad and tall form, giving him a cosy look that oozed safety. I fought against the pull to step closer, to touch his sweater to feel its texture, to compliment him about the way he had styled his hair, finally not obscuring his beautiful eyes. Mingi remained silent, eyes pointed forward as the men standing by the bar gave him irritated looks, as if his mere existence was an inconvenience to them. I sighed and leaned back just a bit, throwing them a warning glare until they turned away, looking uncomfortable.

“Would you like to join me?” I tried with an innocent offer, my smile slightly widening, “I’m here with my—”

“No.” But Mingi’s answer was quick and almost frantic as his eyes widened a bit, his head turning just a little to look at me. He looked almost appalled by my offer and I felt bad for making him feel uncomfortable, but lately, I felt like I didn’t know what to say to him, what was appropriate and what was triggering.

“Right, sorry,” I muttered an apology as the host appeared with my pints of beer, a younger boy trudging after him with a grimace. He looked like he didn’t want to be here, and by the baby fat on his cheeks, he probably wasn’t even supposed to be here.

“Here, help the lady!” The host announced loudly and grabbed the coins I pushed towards him, pushing the younger boy around the bar. Mingi’s eyes fell on the boy, who seemed to pay Mingi no mind other than a quick glance, and I offered him a smile as I grabbed four pints.

“I’ll be here, Mingi.” I ignored it when he flinched, instead smiling wider, “In case you change your mind or need me.”

“Thanks.” I didn’t let my surprise show as he thanked me, quietly and almost hesitantly, but our eyes met and he nodded his head, eyes unsure as they remained stuck to my face. I lingered for a second, wishing to say more, to look at him more, but the young boy was already walking off with the other pints and I couldn’t stay by the bar forever. I nodded my head and swiftly walked off, not without looking back and realizing Mingi’s eyes were following me. It made my chest constrict, a lump in my throat rise as I forced a smile onto my face once I reached my friends’ table, which was filled with laughter and joy.

It felt nice breaking away from the monotonous days, from the grey mood everyone in District 12 seemed to have, it felt nice to spend an evening laughing and enjoying myself. Music seemed to always uplift my mood, and I loved watching people dance, eyes stuck to the way they twirled and moved, sometimes laughing, sometimes looking like they were concentrating too much. I loved to watch the gentleness they held each other with, the spark in their eyes and the ease with which they knew how to follow one's lead. The evening had turned into the late hours of the night, my stomach ached from laughing, but my feet still felt fine as I hadn’t danced just yet. Nobody had approached me and I didn’t want to dance with just anyone, so I also didn’t try to find a dance partner. Despite laughing and conversing with my friends, my eyes often strayed towards the bar, unable to focus on the conversation as I gazed at Mingi, wondering what was going through his mind. He didn’t move from the bar but he did find a seat on a stool, and he didn’t drink more than two pints of beer, but he did eat a pie that looked to be with apples. Nobody approached him and he didn’t approach anyone, he remained alone and stuck to himself as he often would look towards the dancing crowd, picking at the skin around his nails.

Mingi had once used to love to dance, whenever we came here, he wouldn’t sit down for even a second. We never came together, our friend groups were different, but we always somehow stumbled into each other. He had once tried to ask my sister to dance with him, but she gave him a disgusted look and stomped on his feet before storming off towards the boy she was head over heels. Taking pity on Mingi, whose lips were downturned and his head hung low, I told him I really wanted to dance but nobody wanted to dance with me. The joy was back on his face as he took my hand and led me towards the dancing people, blabbering on about his favourite songs and how he had tried playing the guitar before but failed. After that, Mingi always seemed to save me a dance before we’d head home. Perhaps there was one person, after all, that I expected to ask me to dance tonight, and it was Mingi.

I was sat at the table with just two of my friends as they drunkenly tried to ask about how my nursing school was working out, but I barely paid them any mind as I saw two men creeping towards Mingi. They seemed to be drunk too, but they had vicious smirks on their lips and narrowed eyes as they spoke between each other, pointing at Mingi’s back. My jaw clenched when one grabbed his shoulder and yanked him backwards, startling Mingi who almost managed to fall off the stool. The other leaned in uncomfortably close, spatting words in his face as Mingi’s eyebrows furrowed, face falling slowly as fear coated his eyes. Sitting up abruptly and alerting my two friends, I paid them no mind as my legs carried me over to the bar, storming up to Mingi and the two idiots without paying mind to anything else.

“Excuse me.” My voice was loud and harsh as I snapped, jaw clenching when only Mingi seemed to realize I was there too, “Get your hands off him, now.”

And then I grabbed the man’s wrist who still held onto Mingi tightly, making sure to dig my nails into his skin as he yelped, turning around with fury on his face. I didn’t release him, not yet, as his face got red and his chest puffed up, prompting Mingi to slide off his stool, standing tall as he watched the exchange.

“You failed to hear me the first time,” I said, then pushed the man back by his hand before I released it, “surely a woman’s grip didn’t hurt you?”

The man scoffed as his hands balled up into fists, and suddenly Mingi was moving, making me gasp when I felt my back pressing into the bar, body shielded by his much taller and bigger one as he stood in front of me, gripping the other man’s forearm with a sneer on his face, “Don’t touch her.”

Mingi’s voice was low and threatening and it only took seconds for the man to start trembling as he tried to yank his arm free, looking towards his companion with a helpless look. But the man didn’t seem like he wanted to help as he watched Mingi with an open mouth.

“Mingi.” I whispered, scared that this would turn into a really bad scene, something I couldn’t help him get out of like at the Hob, “Would you like to dance with me?”

Mingi froze, dropping the man’s forearm as he turned around, eyebrows furrowed and body too close to mine. I looked up at him, finding myself breathing harder when I felt faint fingertips brushing against my knuckles, making my heart somersault.

“Yes.” And before my mind could register that Mingi had accepted to dance with me, a large hand on my waist was gently veering me around the crowd, leading me towards the dancing one, where the band’s music was louder and everyone was smiling and enjoying themselves. My heart raced in my chest as Mingi led us into the middle of the crowd, coming around me as his eyebrows were furrowed, hands hesitant to touch me anywhere despite having led me here by a hand on my waist. I gulped and raised one hand, deciding to make the first step and offering him a gentle invitation.

I didn’t think he’d actually take me up for a dance, I only said that to de-escalate the situation and to have an excuse for us to walk away from it. But Mingi seemed to take it seriously, his warm and large hand hesitantly slipping into mine. His hand was calloused from wielding a bow and arrow and from working in the back garden too, but his touch remained gentle and mindful. He didn’t wait for me to hold onto his shoulder as he pressed his other hand flatly against my lower back, guiding my body closer to his, but leaving a small gap. I gulped as I looked up, eyebrows furrowed as I fought against the tears that wanted to fill my eyes.

It felt like the world had stopped moving around us, as if the Games never existed, as if the old Mingi was back and my sister was watching us from the sidelines with a displeased look on her face. The tension eased from Mingi’s body and he looked at me with less guilt in his eyes as we made eye contact, but he still swallowed hard, lips parting as his voice was gruff and raspy, “Why are you so kind to me?”

“Because you deserve kindness,” I answered without hesitance, gripping his shoulder and clinging onto him too tightly, having little care about the fact that perhaps this was too much for Mingi, that maybe he didn’t want us standing so close, touching each other in familiar ways. But he remained silent as his body further relaxed, shoulders lowering as I felt his fingers jab into my lower back, with a tug on my belt he closed the gap between our bodies.

I couldn’t breathe all of a sudden, what was supposed to be a dance position felt an awful lot like an attempt at a hug, and I couldn’t breathe as I drowned in Mingi’s closeness, warmth and safety, letting my forehead press against his collarbone as a tear rolled down my cheek.

I hadn’t cried since my sister’s death.

            The days went by quickly here, people were used to their routines and they followed them diligently. Nothing ever interesting or intriguing happened, life was mostly grim and grey. Our District wasn’t well off and there were days when even the wealthiest had to sit back and consider whether throwing out money for luxuries was truly necessary or not. The Hob was filled with more and more people trying to earn a little more in plus, desperate as hungry children hid behind their mothers and hollow-cheeked men tried to be louder so that they’d attract attention upon their stalls. It was a hard-to-swallow picture at times, but it was what I grew up seeing my whole life. I still took pity on everyone, never getting quite used to seeing all the suffering these people had to endure, frequently reminded that I was one of them too, struggling at times to get by. Training to become a nurse had made me realize that I felt fulfilled helping others and that it made me find a purpose other than trying to survive day by day. It gave me hope that if I was capable of helping and healing others, instead of harming them and taking their lives away, then others were capable of taking me as an example to become better and more helpful towards their peers. District 12 had always been forgotten and misjudged by the public—hence why it came as a shock to the Capitol that Mingi was strong and perfectly capable of handling a weapon and defending himself—if our people didn’t stick together, then who would vouch for us?

Helping others, even in the smallest ways like bringing them water or even a slice of bread shouldn’t have been considered something impossible, offering a helping hand to an elderly couple shouldn’t have surprised others when they found out about it. That is why helping the Song family had never seemed like a nuisance to me. Before the Games, it didn’t feel wrong to anyone, but after Mingi returned as a Victor it wasn’t just him who was shunned, his grandparents were too, treated poorly by those who once had happily visited their small patisserie, looking out for the elderly pair who have raised a small child into a fine young man. It was disheartening to watch how the people treated the family, only to realize my own family viewed them the same way. My parents stopped asking about their well-being, about whether Mingi would’ve liked having dinner with us, whether I would go hunt with Mingi and bring back flowers for my sister, they acted as if he never existed. I understood their reasoning, but I couldn’t accept it. They couldn’t blame him for something that was out of his control, for something he was forced to do. That is why I never cared what others thought of me, what they said about me behind my back, whether they judged me or not for keeping in touch with the Song family. Only I could change my mind about them, nothing anyone else said about them could influence me in any way.

That is why I continued to stick around, that is why I visited them weekly to make sure the elderly couple was healthy and Mingi wasn’t cooped up in his room all the time. Today, just shy of a week since Mingi and I had danced at The Hut, I stopped by to see whether Mrs. Song needed help with house maintenance. I memorised the days she liked to clean the house, opening all windows and dusting off all shelves, moping the floors clean and baking something delicious for her husband and grandchild. The blueberry muffins were in the oven, their aroma making my stomach churn as Mrs. Song was perched on a chair, rearranging a shelf of books as she carefully cradled their spines, smiling whenever she opened a book, flipping through pages that were yellow already. I was sat on the windowsill as I cleaned the hinges of the window with a green rag, humming to myself as the birds outside chirped loudly, making me smile. Mr. Song had ventured inside the District, looking for trinkets as he was building a small jewellery box and needed something to decorate it with. If Mingi wasn’t home during the day, he most certainly was out hunting, so I didn’t have to ask Mrs. Song about his whereabouts.

“The Capitol people are coming next week and they’ll be here for a few days,” Mrs. Song spoke up as I felt her eyes on me, “you shouldn’t come over, for your own safety. They are curious people and they always ask questions, they always pester Mingi whether he has someone or not. There’s—bad people in the Capitol who tried to buy him but Haymitch didn’t let them, it’s a dangerous world. Mingi wouldn’t want you involved either.”

I gulped, gut coiling upon hearing people tried to buy him as if he wasn’t a living person with a will and control over his own choices, it didn’t sit well with me, “Is something the matter?”

“No, the Reaping is getting closer and President Snow wants to showcase last year’s Victor.” Mrs. Song sighed and carefully got off the chair, sitting on it instead, “Update the public about what he’s been up to lately and how he’s doing, it’s all for show, really. But Mingi hates it, he’s been more—silent and avoidant, he doesn’t leave his room so often anymore. I know he’s scared, he’s dreading the Reaping. He will probably have to go as a Mentor this year and he doesn’t want to. The nightmares are back too, I don’t know how to be there for him anymore. I don’t know what to do to reassure him anymore.”

A feeling of sadness permeated my whole being as I closed the window, shiny and as good as new as I faced Mrs. Song, “He knows you’re trying your best, and he’s trying his best too. Just let him be and offer him a shoulder to lean on when he comes to you, I think he’s gotten better at coping. I can make a tea for him, to sleep better and have less nightmares, if you want me to.”

“I’ll ask him about it.” Mrs. Song smiled and stood, bringing the chair back to its spot in the kitchen. I drew the curtains together and grabbed the rag to bring it to the bathroom and wash it clean, but as I stepped into the hallway, the front door opened and Mingi stepped through the threshold. His black hair was dishevelled and his attire was completely green, his jacket undone and t-shirt underneath muddy as he kicked his dirty shoes off by the door. He hadn’t noticed me yet as he held a wild duck in his hand, an arrow still lodged in its heart.

“’Ma, I’m—” When he looked up his body tensed, eyes stopping on me. I stood up a bit straighter and offered him a small welcoming smile.

“Hello.” I greeted, holding the rag with both hands in front of me. It’s been a week since we danced together and he hadn’t been as tense around me as before, he spoke a bit more, but he still kept his distance. He didn’t look at me for too long, but his eyes looked less haunted whenever he did, “How was your hunt?”

Mingi swallowed then his eyes looked down at his hands, the dead duck wasn’t dripping blood on the clean floor at least, “Short, but I caught something at least.”

“That’s good,” I smiled a bit wider, “your grandma will make a delicious stew out of it, I’m sure.”

Mingi hummed as his eyes were stuck on the arrow that went through the duck’s heart as if he was unable to look away. His thick brows furrowed and his jaw clenched, but he abruptly raised his head, eyes hard and body alarmed as I tried to stand as unthreateningly as I could. I didn’t want to trigger any memory if able, so I looked to the side as Mingi’s eyes continued boring into the side of my face, “Would you—would you like to—if my grandma makes stew, would you—the duck I caught, I—I’m sorry.”

Silence stretched between us as I sighed, not annoyed and neither tired, just feeling defeated when I chanced a glance at Mingi. He looked disappointed as he chewed on his bottom lip, shoulders hunched forward again as his bangs fell into his eyes, “Would you like me to come over for lunch if your grandma makes stew, Mingi?”

He stiffened, flinching slightly, but he wordlessly nodded slowly, looking at me through his eyelashes. I chuckled and nodded, feeling like we had just taken an immense step towards finding common ground again, towards reestablishing what we once had, “Alright, I’ll come over if you still want me to.”

“I will.” Mingi said hurriedly, I had barely finished talking, “I won’t change my mind.”

I felt my chest slowly warm up as my smile slightly faltered, forcefully ignoring the need to walk over and hug him, inhale his earthy scent and thank him for trying to mend our lost relationship. I nodded, eyes boring into his as Mingi nodded back, shifting on his feet as if he didn’t know what to say more or what to do next. But to his luck, Mrs. Song had just walked out of the kitchen, eyes widening in delight when she noticed her grandson, “Mingi! You’re back! Go wash up, you can take care of the duck afterwards.”

Mingi nodded and walked further inside the house, making sure to avoid touching me when he passed by me as I pressed myself up against the wall. I watched him press a quick kiss against his grandmother’s cheek and then disappear inside the kitchen before he raced up the stairs without looking back. Mrs. Song chuckled before she looked at me with a knowing look in her eyes, then pointed towards the bathroom, “Were you headed in there?”

“Yes, do you need anything?” I asked as I approached her, trying to stop my eyes from gazing up at the stairs as Mingi’s loud footsteps thudded against the floorboards as he entered his room, closing the door loudly.

“I will hang up the laundry, can you bring Mingi’s clothes up to him after you’ve washed the rag?” Mrs. Song had a sweet smile on her lips as I nodded, setting into motion as I headed inside the bathroom, “My knees are old, my dear, they don’t function as well as yours or my grandson’s…”

I heard Mrs. Song mutter to herself as I chuckled quietly, nearing the sink as I looked up, met with my reflection in the mirror up on the wall. I turned on the faucet without looking down, my eyes a dark colour but under the sunlight a blazing amber—if I believed what everyone has always told me—and my short hair was braided behind my ears as that’s how far I could actually braid the strands. The two ponytails that sat at my nape were small and sometimes managed to tickle me, but I didn’t mind them, the hairstyle was practical and looked cute. I didn’t like my hair getting in my eyes when I was working with my patients, and today had been a rather packed day at the Nursery before I could leave to help Mrs. Song out.

The water was warm against my skin as I rinsed the rag out, carefully hanging it on the side of the bathtub, eyes looking around the bathroom in search of Mingi’s freshly folded clothes. They were placed on top of a low stool behind the door and I went and grabbed them, fingers curling into the soft fabric of the shirt that was at the bottom of the pile. They smelled fresh, devoid of the earthy scent Mingi usually carried with himself, a tinge of citrus could be smelt in the fabric as I brought it up to my nose, taking a deep inhale. Realizing that what I was doing was probably inappropriate, I stopped myself and rolled my shoulders back, trying to stop the blush from spreading widely onto my cheeks.

Mrs. Song was outside in the back garden as I headed for the stairs, the double doors opened and the curtains fluttered as the wind blew inside, Mrs. Song’s pleasant singing voice carried by the wind made me smile. I carefully walked up the stairs, which were made of marble like the rest of the ground floor’s flooring, and was met with pictures hung on the wall of the Song family. There were some older ones, black and white, and some newer ones where Mingi was small and smiling widely as his parents held his hands, his mother’s smile a perfect replica of Mingi’s. Mingi was the perfect mixture of his parents’ traits, but he seemed to take slightly more after his father, who had the same small and sharp eyes as his son, his nose long and tall. I was familiar with the pictures, I’ve seen them numerous times in the Song’s old house, but it brought comfort seeing them once again. The Victor houses were devoid of colours and any life, they exuberated coldness and stripped the home of any cosiness. It felt nice to see Mrs. Song trying to bring it more life with the pictures, her favourite paintings that were family heirlooms and carpets that she and Mr. Song had inherited over the years, with flowers littered around every part of the house.

I knocked on Mingi’s door, his bedroom was the last in the hallway and faced towards the forest, unsurprisingly, but there was no answer. Trying again, not intending to intrude on his privacy, I knocked some more but there was still no answer. I grabbed the doorknob and whispered his name as I poked my head inside just a little, only to realise he wasn’t in the room. Eyes widening, I pushed the door further open and froze, taken aback by what I was seeing. I had never stepped foot inside Mingi’s bedroom ever since he moved inside this house, but upon one glance, it was a replica of his old bedroom. Even the way his things were positioned was the same, his furniture the same, the only difference being the white walls while in his old bedroom, they were grey and the paint was chapped, falling off in some places. It smelled like musk and something citrusy inside, perhaps oranges, as I let the door close behind me, a single lamp lit on his desk despite it being daytime. His blackout curtains were drawn together, but based on the volume of the birds chirping, I could tell the windows were open. Walking further inside, I noticed a small notebook opened on top of his desk, a pencil on the floor and the beginning of a sketch that looked an awful lot like the meadow.

There was a thud behind me and as I turned around, I just realized there was a door inside the room, closed but light flooded out from underneath it. Deciding to place the clothes on Mingi’s bed, I took off towards it just as the door opened and warm steam wafted outside of it. Freezing, I opened my mouth to quickly explain myself but was caught off guard by what I saw. Mingi, still oblivious to my presence fumbled with the light switch as he stepped outside of the joint bathroom, hair dripping wet and torso bare as a black towel hung low on his hips. His cheeks were flushed and the water from his hair dropped to his wide shoulders, quickly trailing down his broad chest, between his pecks until they disappeared into the towel. The beginning of a happy trail started just where the towel concealed his lower body and I gasped, turning my head away when I felt my whole face on fire.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were showering!” My voice was high-pitched, flustered and sounded embarrassed too, “Your grandmother asked me to bring up your clothes and I—I knocked, I really did but you didn’t answer and I—I’m sorry. I really am, I’ll go, I just—”

My heart was beating so fast and loud, I was sure Mingi could hear it too in the silence that followed my frantic explanation, hands slightly shaking as I placed the pile of clothes on his bed, clumsily knocking some over. Letting out a frustrated huff, I fumbled around as I grabbed them, folding them again as I tried to ignore Mingi’s frozen form in the room, dark eyes trained on my body, watching me wordlessly.

“You can leave them, I have to put them away either way.” Mingi’s voice was deep, tone light despite our predicament. I gulped and stopped, closing my eyes as I took a deep breath, steeling my nerves before I stood up straight, letting go of the short-sleeved white shirt I was about to fold.

“I’m sorry.” I apologized again, keeping my eyes glued to the floorboards, “I didn’t mean to—”

“I know.” It was unlike Mingi to cut me off, especially with so much understanding in his voice. He hadn’t talked to me like that since the Games, he hadn’t kept his eyes so insistently on me ever since the Games. My cheeks were still burning, not because I caught Mingi half-naked, but instead because he wasn’t looking away, he was trying to catch my gaze as he lowered his eyes, “Thank you.”

My muscles became tense, eyebrows slightly furrowing as I licked my lips, not quite understanding what he was saying thank you for so earnestly. I hadn’t done anything of great importance, I just merely brought his clothes up for him because his grandmother was old and probably struggled scaling the stairs so many times a day. Willing myself to look up, to tell him that he didn’t have to thank me for something so simple, the words got stuck in my throat as we made eye contact. His face looked relaxed, wet strands falling onto his forehead in a way that didn’t obscure his vision and he wasn’t hyperventilating and neither looking uncomfortable. I gulped, opening my mouth to say something, but my eyes slipped and landed on his left arm where a big red gash stood out strikingly against his tan complex. My eyebrows furrowed as I continued looking at it, and when Mingi realized, he hid his arm behind his back.

“When did you get that?” I asked, concern lacing my voice.

“Yesterday.” Mingi’s answer was short, voice once again void of any emotion.

“Did you treat it?”

“Washed it with warm water.”

“That’s not good enough,” I muttered, eyebrows furrowing in worry as I looked back up at him, “you need to disinfect it and put ointment on it, you should also probably wrap it up with gauze too.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve survived worse.” I knew he didn’t mean to sound so aggressive as he said that because he flinched, his right hand balling up into a fist as he averted his eyes, turning his head to the side.

“I know,” I whispered, but I wasn’t about to let him walk around with a fresh cut, “but you need to treat that. I’ll be right back.”

“Y/N, you don’t have to—” But I was out the door before he could finish his sentence, hurrying down the long hallway and then skipping down the stairs as Mrs. Song remained outside, now sitting in a chair as she watched the bees that flew onto the flowers in her garden, a content smile on her lips. I rushed towards the downstairs bathroom and opened the cabinet above the bathtub, grabbing the distilled water, saline solution, a soothing ointment I learned how to make from my sister, and some gauze. As I left the bathroom and raced back up the stairs, I heard the front door opening, meaning that Mr. Song had also returned home. In my rush to get back to Mingi and treat his fresh wound, I forgot to knock to warn him that I was heading in, but thankfully he was fully dressed and sitting on his bed, left leg bent while the right one hung off the side of the bed. He looked up alarmed as I heaved a sigh, closing the door behind me and placing everything on the bed in front of Mingi as I neared him.

“May I wash my hands in your bathroom?” Mingi didn’t hesitate to nod and I quickly went inside and washed my hands thoroughly with soap, letting them dry on their own as I walked back inside his room, pulling the bathroom door closed with my foot. Mingi watched me, neck craned as I stopped next to him staring down at the bed as I debated whether I should ask him to turn around or sit opposite him. Deciding that he looked comfortable and I didn’t want to bother him, I got on the bed across from him, sitting on my knees as I lowered myself on my legs, looking down at the solutions I brought, “May I see the wound?”

Mingi froze for a second, but he didn’t stall for long as he extended his arm, shuffling closer when he realized we sat too far from each other. He gulped, loudly, but I ignored it as I grabbed his arm and pulled it towards my lap, eyebrows furrowing as I inspected it. The skin wasn’t red around it, thankfully, but the wound seemed rather irritated. I looked at him for a brief second, surprised to find Mingi looking at me intensely, “May I touch you?”

“Yes.” His voice was low and raspy as he answered, and he tensed when I hummed, looking back down at the wound. I sighed and gently traced the skin around the wound, making sure there were no bumps or smaller cuts before I grabbed some gauze and poured distilled water on it. Mingi helped me uncap the bottle and then held it for me as I placed his arm back in my lap, gently tapping the gauze on the wound, knowing that it probably wouldn’t hurt him. He remained silent and I didn’t speak up despite wanting to ask questions about how he got this wound, I just handed him back the lid and he lidded the bottle before putting it aside.

“This might sting a bit,” I warned him as I grabbed the saline solution and opened the bottle, pausing to look at him, “did the soap sting?”

“Yeah, yesterday,” Mingi mumbled and looked away, lowering his head as his shoulders were hunched forward. His hair was damp, but at least water wasn’t dripping everywhere from it anymore. He wore fluffy trousers and a white t-shirt which was a bit tight and clung to his body, enunciating his scrawny but broad form. I hummed and tapped his wrist to warn him that I would pour the saline solution on the open wound now, which thankfully didn’t need stitches as it wasn’t deep enough. The muscles of Mingi’s arm tensed when the solution reached his wound, but he made no sounds. I made sure to pour only as much as was needed to disinfect the wound and glanced up at him, finding his jaw clenched and nose scrunched up as he stared down at his lap. Closing the saline solution bottle, I grabbed a clean gauze and folded it so that I could tap it against his skin. We remained silent as I worked slowly and carefully, not wanting to cause more discomfort. I felt Mingi’s eyes on me when I placed the bottles aside and grabbed the small can, my hand falling next to his as I paused.

“This won’t sting, it’ll help ease any discomfort and soothe the burn.” I informed him and then opened the can, taking a copious amount of ointment on my fingers before I started rubbing it into the wound, not pressing it too much as I knew it would hurt, “You should use this three times a day until it fades into a scar, and if you go hunting, you should wrap it up with gauze for some extra protection. If anything gets into it, it might get infected. I should check up on it in two weeks, but if it starts bothering you in any way, let me know as fast as possible, okay?”

I looked at Mingi with raised eyebrows and he nodded wordlessly as I sighed, glad that I could help. I closed the small can and placed it next to his knee so that he’d put it away somewhere where it was close by, and prepared to grab the dirty gauze and bottles, when long and thick fingers curled around my right wrist, halting my movements. I froze, staring ahead at Mingi’s chest as it was rising and falling rhythmically. His head was still lowered, eyes obscured as his big hand felt cold against my skin, the hold gentle and not bruising.

“Thank you.” I smiled and nodded with a hum, letting my eyes rest on his face, which he was trying to hide.

“Of course, Mingi.” But maybe I said something wrong because his head snapped up, eyebrows furrowed as his eyes searched mine, lips pursed as he looked confused and even annoyed.

“Why are you so nice to me, Y/N?” He asked, voice shaking as his fingers uncurled from my wrist, dropping down between us, accidentally brushing against my knee.

“Because you deserve kindness,” I wanted Mingi to understand that he wasn’t different than anyone else, that he was a person who deserved to be treated well and with love and tenderness, “Because you’re a human being with feelings and thoughts and struggles just like everyone else. You don’t deserve to be treated badly for what you were forced to do, everyone would’ve done the same if they were in your place, Mingi. You’re gentle and compassionate, you’re easily spooked and you’re clumsy despite being tall and strong, you listen to others and you help them. You’re kind and you’re a good person despite what others might think and say now about you. You’ve always picked me up when I fell, you never laughed when I didn’t know something, you waited for me when nobody else did, and you never seemed to forget about me when everyone else did.”

My breath hitched in my throat when Mingi’s hand raised, warm and hesitant as it cupped my right cheek, his fingers burning my skin as I continued speaking, “I’m not scared of you Mingi, you’ll always be the shy little boy to me who carried me on his back when my feet started hurting and pulled on my hair when I threatened to fall asleep in classes. Nothing will change that, not even you pushing me away.”

I watched as Mingi’s eyes got teary, his bottom lip shaking as his hand fell from my cheek, making me miss his warmth as I almost grabbed onto his hand to press it back against my skin, yearning for his touch. But he only hunched more into himself, shoulders shaking, and I knew he wanted to be alone, with nobody to see him as he became vulnerable and emotional. Gathering the things I brought with myself beside the ointment, I left the room, leaving him alone to mule over the words I had said to me.

I could only hope he would start believing them

            And maybe my words did get through to him because the next time the two of us were out in the forest to hunt, we ran into each other and instead of him running away like always, he stopped walking and waited for me to reach him. He was just about to jump over the fence when he glanced over his shoulder and spotted my approaching form. I smiled widely at him and waved as I hurried my steps, holding onto the bow that was around my shoulders, ten arrows sitting in the holster by my hip. Mingi’s bow was around his shoulders too, but his holster was next to it instead of it being on his hip, and he wore his green jacket and black-coloured pants. It was a sunny day today, so I didn’t wear my usual hunting gear, just a light blouse that had to be laced up at the chest and trousers that once belonged to my sister.

“Hello, Y/N.” I froze when I heard him greet me, usually not being the first one to acknowledge my existence. My smile became wider as I had to look up at him, shielding my eyes with a hand as the sun shone down on us brightly.

“Mingi, hi!” My tone was laced with enthusiasm, and despite Mingi not smiling, I could tell by his expression that he wasn’t in a displeased mood, “Did you just arrive?”

“Yes, I planned to hunt for a few hours today, it’s too warm to sit by the house.” It was a long sentence, a longer answer, something that hadn’t happened in a long time. I tried to tell my racing heart to calm down, to savour the moment while it lasted. In his eyes, which were lighter under the bright sunlight, I recognized the spark which was always present in the Mingi before he left for the Games.

“I agree, it’s even worse further into the District,” I nodded and grabbed the fence, “Would you…like to hunt with me?”

It was a bold offer, I knew it could sour Mingi’s mood rather quickly, but I could only hope he wouldn’t turn me down. I missed hunting with someone, I missed the dynamic that came when you had someone next to you, how much more silent you needed to be, more careful and more vigilant. I used to hunt with my sister almost daily, we’d sneak out when our parents were busy and would only return by nightfall. Once, we ventured further into the forest, far from the meadow, and discovered that there was a small but beautiful lake an hour away. We rarely went out there, out of fear of the Capitol watching over it, but I cherished the memories we shared there with my sister.

“Yes, we could hunt together.” Mingi’s answer was unexpected, and my eyes widened as I looked up at him, trying to read his expression but it didn’t say much. He nodded more to himself before he gripped the fence and pulled himself up halfway, jumping over it and landing with precision, it certainly wasn’t the first time he’d done it. Knowing that I’d never be able to jump over it, I crouched and pulled on the fence just underneath the sign that warned us of high voltage, creating a gap where I could go through. Mingi watched with surprise as I came up next to him, pushing the fence back so that it wouldn’t be visible that there was a passageway.

“Was that always there?” Mingi asked amazed, still looking at the fence as I readjusted my blouse.

“Yes,” I said with a chuckle, taking off towards the trees, “I’m too short to jump over the fence, did you think I did the same as you to get out?”

“Yes?” Mingi asked as he averted his eyes, cheeks dusted pink as he made me chuckle. I bumped my shoulder into his as we walked further inside the forest, covered by the shade of trees which brought me instant relief as sweat had broken out on my forehead and temples. I patted them off with the sleeve of my blouse and grabbed onto my belt as we walked around bushes and stepped over fallen logs, hiding behind a boulder as we spotted a deer. Our breaths were synchronised as Mingi and I peeked out above the boulder, watching the pretty deer as it remained oblivious to our presence. Mingi’s fingers tightened around his bow as he exhaled, and I turned my head to watch him curiously. We had to remain silent in order not to alert our prey, but I couldn't help myself.

“Will you claim it?” I whispered, the sound quiet as Mingi took his bottom lip between his teeth, his head turning. Our faces were close as he exhaled, the warm air brushing against my cheeks, but he shook his head.

“I don’t hunt deer anymore, they are too beautiful,” Mingi answered, voice less cautious as the deer’s head snapped up and looked around, aware that it wasn’t alone anymore. I didn’t say anything for a second, just savoured our closeness and Mingi’s musky scent combined with the earth around us, as our eyes bore into each other. I hummed and faced the deer at last, watching as it continued eating once it decided that it wasn’t in danger.

“Should we head further in, then?” I raised an eyebrow, a friendly smile settling on my lips, “Find the wild ducks?”

Mingi and I made brief eye contact as he nodded, and then we both straightened up and stepped around the boulder, alerting the deer and making it run off in fright. My eyes followed it, remembering the one time my sister ruthlessly hunted down one of them, telling me that an animal was a source of food no matter how pretty as I started crying while I watched it die. I didn’t join my sister for a week after that incident, and I felt warmness spread through my chest that now I knew Mingi didn’t like hunting them either. Wild ducks were a little bit easier to hunt, at the beginning I wasn’t keen on capturing them, but famish was horrible and it made us do things we didn’t want to.

I followed after Mingi in silence as he jumped over rocks and logs, navigating his way around the forest as if it was his second home—which it might’ve been at this point—watching closely the way he moved, the way he carried himself. His shoulders were pulled back and his back was straight, he moved with elegance and confidence as he pushed the branches of a tree to the side, waiting for me and holding it for me as well. His muscles weren’t too tense and he seemed to be at ease as a small smile played at his lips, probably subconsciously, as his sharp eyes surveyed the place every other minute, looking for the wild ducks but also to spot any other possible prey. A red fox jumped in front of us and made me gasp as I didn’t expect it, and once Mingi’s initial shock was gone and he lowered the protective arm he’d put in front of me, he grinned at the fox and stomped his foot once, making it run off. I curled my palms into fists when our knuckles brushed together as we walked side by side, trying to fight the urge to hold onto his hand and intertwine our fingers. I missed holding his big hands, feeling their callousness and the few silver rings he wore dig into my skin.

Mingi slowed his steps when he spotted the wild ducks and I made sure to remain quiet as I watched mine too. He motioned behind a tree and we lowered ourselves behind it, peeking out at the ducks from both sides of the trunk. Mingi faced me with a questioning expression and I nodded once as I moved slowly and silently, taking my bow and an arrow as I hooked it, getting in a better position to pull it back. Mingi watched me closely as my muscles tensed and my arm pulled even further back, lips brushing against the arrow as Mingi hummed once, throwing a pebble to make the ducks fly off. I sprung up and locked onto my prey, letting go of the arrow at once as we watched it shoot straight at a wild duck, hitting it and making it fall onto the forest ground. My heart was beating fast, making my body warm as my blood flowed faster, cheeks tinged red as I smiled widely, pulling another arrow to shoot another duck that wasn’t spooked and remained behind. I hit that one too, and wondered when Mingi would shoot his own shot, but when my head turned to look at him, he was frozen and his eyes were wide. His knuckles were white as he had grabbed onto the tree tightly, breathing faster than before.

Realizing that something wasn’t right, I lowered my bow and scootched closer to him, “Mingi?”

My voice was quiet and cautious as Mingi mumbled to himself, seemingly stuck somewhere inside his mind as his body shivered, “No.”

I realized he was having a flashback when he gasped loudly and stood up straight abruptly, shaking his head more feverishly, “No! Stop, no!”

I let my bow fall to the ground as I stepped closer, trying to stabilize my breaths, “Mingi, focus on me. Listen to my voice—”

“No, she’s dead!” He screamed, voice raw and raspy as he faced me frantically, his body shaking, “I—the arrow—I killed her, she’s—she’s bleeding, I—”

“Mingi!” My tone was higher as I grabbed his wrist tightly and stared up into his eyes, “Snap out of it, it’s not real. We’re in the forest—”

“No, I killed her. She’s dead, you—you are dead, I—” Mingi gasped loudly and tried to yank his wrist free, but I grabbed onto his arms and yanked him closer to myself, forcing him to remain by my side.

“I’m not her.” My voice was harsh, eyebrows furrowed, “It’s me, Y/N, we’re back in District 12, in the forest, hunting. It was a wild duck, Mingi.”

It took him a few seconds to realize I was saying the truth, that the face which was talking to him wasn’t that of my dead twin sister’s, but of the girl he left behind when he left for the Games, the girl who he abandoned when he returned, “Mingi.”

“Why?” His voice was shaky and he suddenly stepped closer, all up in my personal space. I had to crane my neck back to look up at him, “Why are you doing this? Why are you still here? Why do you talk to me? Why don’t you hate me? Why don’t you—just kill me?!”

His tone rose with each desperate question, his bottom lip shaking as his eyes filled with tears, his chest rising and falling rapidly, “What do you want from me? Just let me—hate me, Y/N, shun me away, scream at me and slap me, I—I don’t deserve any kindness. I don’t deserve you anymore, I’m a monster. I’m a criminal, I murdered her, I shot the arrow straight through her heart. I have no future, I’m a nobody, I don’t deserve to be alive, why are you still with me?!”

“Mingi!” I screamed, making him flinch as I shook his hands off my arms and cupped his cheeks instead, pulling his head down to be eye level with me, “Look me in the eyes, Mingi.”

But he didn’t, he looked at the ground and shook his head, sniffing loudly as my jaw clenched, “Look me in the eyes, I said, Song Mingi.”

I had never spoken to him harshly, I had never demanded anything of him before, and upon hearing my tone and words, his eyes snapped up, wide and shaking, “Look at me. My eyes are dark, just like yours, hers were light like the sky during the day. My hair is short and wavy, hers was long and straight, always in a perfect bun while mine is almost impossible to tame. I’m tall, she was shorter and always complained about it. My voice is higher-pitched and warmer, more comforting, hers was raspy and always demanding, always ordering something. We smell different, she loved flowers and smelled like them, and I hate flowers and would rather cover myself in mud than smell like it. My body is covered in moles and hers barely had three, all on her face meanwhile mine has none. I like to read about nature and birdwatch as well as stargaze and braid hair, she hated reading and she only watched the night sky because she knew I loved it, she never braided her hair because the strands were too thin and would constantly fall out. I want to heal and help people because I love our humanity and I’m conscious that we are here one day and the next maybe not, she wanted to heal people because it made her feel like she had control over life, because she never got to control her own life, Mingi.

“She was mean to you and she didn’t like you, she pushed you around and made fun of you whenever she could. I never did, I always wanted to be by your side, I wanted to talk to you and listen to your stories, I wanted to shield you from her harsh words. You wanted to dance with her, but she always refused, so I took her place hoping it’d make you happy since I looked like her, I hoped you’d be able to imagine it was her and not me. I help your grandparents because I want to and because I care about them, not because our parents sent us over to your house to help you out, I didn’t do it because I knew our mother would buy us new dresses. I don’t want to see you in pain and agony over having killed my twin sister, Mingi, I have never hated you for it, and I have never resented you for what you had done, so please, stop seeing her in me and look at me. See me, Mingi, please.”

Mingi was crying by the time I was done talking, his body shaking as he forced his eyes shut, his tears wetting my hands as I rubbed the skin under his eyes as his arms no longer lay limply by his side but circled my waist and pulled me into him, embracing me in a tight hug as I let him burry his head in my neck, heart-wrenching sobs leaving his mouth as I ran my fingers through his smooth hair, allowing him to let out all the grief and pain he’s felt and tried to push down.

“I forgive you, Mingi,” I said it because I knew it was what he needed to hear and not because he had anything to be forgiven for, “for everything.”

He nodded his head frantically as he continued crying, fingers digging into my blouse desperately as his loud sobs echoed around us, a few Mockingjays picking up on it and carrying it further inside the forest. I hugged him closer to my body when his muscles started easing up and I massaged his scalp when his sobs started vanning, hiccups and sniffing following it, tight embrace turning into comfortable body warmth that screamed out for companionship.

And I knew he’d get better, he was strong, and he was no pawn of the Capitol.

2 months later

            The sun had lost some of its warmth now that autumn was approaching and I didn’t feel ready to let go of the lush green scenery, of the forest that brought such huge refuge and safety. The meadow was full of blooming colours, of flowers that made me sneeze, of bees that were loud and made Mingi jump every time they flew past him. I had my eyes closed as I played with the petal of a Musk Mallow, the person lying next to me fidgeting every few seconds as he was afraid of bugs. I had a smile on my face as he finally sighed and gave up, sitting up as he pulled his knees into his chest. The Reaping was tomorrow, the Peacekeepers were getting the square ready, and the train bringing the Capitol people would arrive tomorrow. Effie Trinket would act like picking a boy and girl for the Games was normal and Haymitch would be probably black-out drunk while Mingi would stand on the podium shaking and looking sickly pale.

“I’m scared.” As if hearing my thoughts, he whispered, “I’m not ready to return, I don’t want to go back, Y/N.”

“They will never make you go back into the Games.” I tried to remind him.

“I know, I just can’t watch a child I know attempt to train for something that will lead to their dismay.” Mingi’s voice was defeated as I blinked my eyes open, raising my hand to shield them from the sun.

“Perhaps District 12 will have another Victor, Mingi, have more faith in them.” I tried to sound encouraging, but I knew it was of no use. Mingi and my sister got reaped when they were eighteen, what was supposed to be their last year participating in the Reaping. The odds were rarely in our favour.

“I can’t be a mentor, it’s too soon.” Mingi pressed his forehead against his knees, squeezing his eyes shut tightly. I sighed and followed him, sitting up as I pulled something out of my pocket.

“You’ll be fine, you won’t be alone and you’ll be a good mentor, Mingi.” I said with an encouraging smile as he turned his head to look at me, “They won’t hurt you at the Capitol, they can’t. Remember, you are your own master and you can’t let President Snow get inside your head. You did well when they came to take the interview all those months ago, you’ll be able to ace this too. I believe in you, Mingi.”

He bit his bottom lip, eyes searching my face before they settled on my own, our gazes boring together as I looked down at my hands, playing with the single pearl on the bracelet. Taking a deep breath, I looked back up at Mingi and smiled at him softly, extending my hand with the bracelet towards him, “For you, as a token of good luck and trust, because I trust you and I—I’ll be here, home, waiting for you to return to me, Mingi.”

Gaze softening as he straightened up, he took the bracelet from me, his warm fingers grazing my palm as they curled around the bracelet, a small happy smile spreading onto his lips. He looked at it for another long moment, inspecting the pearl just like I had done after I brought it home, and then he looked up again, turning his head to face me. His voice was barely a whisper, “I’ll miss you, Y/N, so much.”

I smiled and released a quiet breath as Mingi leaned closer, supporting himself with a hand as my eyes fluttered closed, his plump lips hovering just for a second before they pressed against mine firmly. They were warm and not as chapped as they usually were since I had made him an ointment to use, and they were soft and tasted of the chamomile tea his grandmother made us drink before we headed for the meadow. I kissed back with passion, hoping it would convey all the unspoken things, all the words I wasn’t able to say yet, but would say when the timing was right. His kisses were always careful and gentle, like him, hesitant until his brain registered that I wanted him just as much as he wanted me, only becoming firm and demanding when he couldn’t withhold himself anymore. I smiled as we pulled back, our lips making a funny sound when Mingi chased after mine and pressed a loud quick kiss against them again, making himself blush and giggle as he turned his head, gazing out towards the trees and shade.

“I’ll take care of your grandparents in your absence,” I promised as I offered him my hand, heart leaping in my chest when his longer and thicker fingers slipped between mine, intertwining with confidence and conviction.

“Thank you, they’ll probably ask you to sleep over sometimes.” Mingi said, his thumb rubbing my knuckle as I squeezed his hand, “They don’t like the quiet when it’s just the two of them.”

“I’ll make sure to spend the night from time to time,” I promised again with a smile on my lips as Mingi and I glanced at each other, settling into a comfortable silence as I helped him wear the bracelet before we scooted closer to each other, hands still intertwined and gazing forward at the serene nature, the deer that played around oblivious to our presence, the leaves that were moved by the wind.

There were days when things were harder to cope with, when Mingi couldn’t get out of bed and when he didn’t want to see anyone, but there were days when Mingi couldn’t stop laughing, when he cradled me against his chest and told me he loved me, when he promised to marry me if our world miraculously changed for the better. I knew it wouldn’t be easy to remain by his side, that we’d both be faced with challenges and hardships, judged by our people and by the Capitol, but we didn’t care. Something that we both loved and cherished had been ripped from us by tyrants, my sister and his innocence, we’d stop bowing down to the pressure to live a life that we didn’t want.

And, sometime in the near future, we both knew that dire days were coming before a bright and free future,

“And the Tributes from District 12 of the 74th Hunger Games are…Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark!” ~ Suzanne Collins

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[mira-says]

Make it Special

Azriel x Reader

Read on AO3

Summary: When you met Azriel and the bond snapped in place, you'd both agreed that you wanted to wait for your mating ceremony to be intimate, to make it special. But three years of cancelled plans, bad weather, obnoxious High Lords and even more obnoxious Illyrians had you and Azriel deeply questioning your earlier agreement to wait

Warnings: 18+, fluff, smut, tiniest touch of angst

Word count: 3.4k (how did that happen)

A/N: Hi, this is my first fic for acotar and my first time writing smut 🥰 I would love comments, critiques, and suggestions! Also, I use mating ceremony/wedding language interchangeably. Ok, enjoy!!

💙🩵💙

Azriel had to wonder if he'd done something to offend the Mother. He supposed it was possible you had done something instead, but he couldn't imagine what. Surely of the two of you, he was the more likely culprit.

When you met three years ago, and the bond snapped in place, you'd both agreed that you wanted to wait for your mating ceremony to be intimate, to make it special. You had both been hurt by previous lovers and you suggested that the security of vows, spoken to each other and before your friends and family, would give you both the confidence to take those next steps.

And that had been fine, only a couple months into your relationship. And maybe you had been rushing into the ceremony, both of you still scared to lose the other.

But three years of cancelled plans, bad weather, obnoxious High Lords and even more obnoxious Illyrians had you and Azriel deeply questioning your earlier agreement to wait.

The first time you had planned your mating ceremony, it was to be in the beautiful temple on the Sidra a few weeks before the Winter Solstice. That winter had churned out more blizzards than Velaris had ever seen, causing damage to the roads and leading to the head priestess cancelling the ceremony so the temple could house those stranded by the ice and snow.

A disappointment, but understandable.

The second time was over a year later in the early summer. No blizzards, not even a drop of rain fell on your wedding day. Just Azriel diving to the townhouse from the House of Wind where he'd been getting ready as he received a report that Beron was invading the Spring Court.

You'd always hated the High Lord of Autumn, but never more so than when he'd ruined your wedding. It took six months of fighting and endless, fruitless negotiations before Beron agreed to pull his forces back.

There were a couple more cancelled dates after everyone had settled, either Azriel was needed for a mission or you were called to another court for trade negotiations. Each time you set a new date, you and Azriel would laugh and wonder how this one would be ruined.

By this fifth or so time, Azriel had had enough laughing. The date was set for early autumn. The location was the River House, despite Cassian's whines that you were copying him and Nesta. Azriel offered that Cassian pay a booking fee for another location, hope it wouldn't be cancelled and that the cancellation fee wasn't more expensive than the venue was worth, or get over it. Cassian got over it.

Over the years, you and Azriel broke more and more rules of your earlier agreement. First, you agreed you could watch the other bring themselves pleasure. Then touching was allowed. Then oral. Then it was everything short of Azriel actually putting his cock in you. Several times, you had been close to throwing out the agreement entirely and just fucking, but something always stopped you. You wanted your first time with your mate to be special, not something that just happened because you were horny or desperate.

One of these times, a week before your wedding that you still would not let yourself dare to hope would actually happen, Azriel's head was buried between your legs, bringing you the kind of pleasure only he could provide. He brought you to climax over and over before you finally pushed him off, exhausted. He smirked at you with purely male satisfaction before kissing up your body, latching on to your neck.

"Love," he whispered. "I want to fuck you so badly."

You moaned softly at his words and the feeling of his lips on your skin. "I know, just another week."

He stilled for a moment before pulling the two of you out of bed.

"Az?" He dressed you quickly in a robe and threw pants on before taking your hand, shadows encasing both of you.

The shadows cleared and you blinked quickly, realizing you were outside of Rhys' office in the town house.

"Azriel, what are you doing?"

He ignored you, throwing open the door to Rhys' office. You heard a squeak from inside and looked around Azriel to see your High Lord and Lady in as nearly a compromising position as you had been a moment ago.

Rhys was pulling Feyre's shirt back around her chest. "What the fuck, Az?"

"I need you to know and understand something." Azriel said, dutifully keeping his eyes locked with Rhys'.

Rhys huffed incredulously. "And that is?"

"That is that my mate and I are getting married next week, and I don't give a fuck who needs help or who starts a fight or anything. I don't care if Devlon burns Illyria to the ground. I don't care if the fucking king of Hybern comes back from the dead and launches a fucking ball of fire at Velaris, we are getting married next week."

For a moment, you, Feyre and Rhys could only gape at him. Feyre broke first, trying and failing to conceal her laughter. "You got it, Az. Next week, no matter what."

Azriel nodded, content enough with her answer. You mouthed I'm so sorry at her and Rhys as he pulled you back out of the office.

Rhys couldn't resist. "Wound a little tight, brother?" Azriel just raised his middle finger in response and his shadows carried you both back to the House of Wind.

The morning of the ceremony was a blur.

Nuala and Cerridwen helped you bathe, eat, and dress before you were met with the full force of the Archeron sisters and Mor, ready to exert all of their creative energy on your wedding day look. Mor wove you hair into an intricate updo with Elaine helping her place pins and little white flowers. Feyre painted your face with little blue accents around your eyes that you knew would match Azriel's siphons. Finally, Nesta helped you into your dress, making sure you could move and breathe and dance as you wished.

You kept waiting for some announcement, some interruption that would cancel the ceremony yet again, but it never came.

The five of you stood crowded around a full length mirror, taking in the final look. You gazed at your reflection and felt your heart twist. "Is this really happening?" You asked softly.

Feyre took your hand gently. "It is. I promise."

They lead you to the front door of the river house before scurrying out to their seats in the garden. You caught a glimpse of the sky as they rushed out. How was it already the evening?

The front doors were pulled open again, with intention this time. You stepped over the threshold.

Moments later, it seemed, you were in front of Azriel at the altar. You vaguely remembered walking down the aisle, passing all your sniffling friends with huge smiles on their faces and sweet music playing around you, but from the moment you met Azriel's eyes, he was all you could see. Your mate.

"Y/n," he whispered as you stood across from him. He shadows danced over his shoulders. He opened his mouth to say more but found he couldn't speak. Tears glistened in his eyes.

You smiled up at him, taking his hands as the priestess had you speak your vows. You'd baked a lemon muffin for him to seal your bond. It was simple, but it was what you'd been not-so-secretly eating in a coat closet at one of Helion's ridiculous parties when Azriel had stumbled upon you, seeking solitude as well.

His eyes lit up in recognition as you handed him the muffin, three years after that day, and he looked you in the eyes as he took a bite.

"In the presence of all your friends and family, I declare you mated before the Mother," the priestess finished. Azriel held your cheek and kissed you deeply. The whoops and cheers from your friends made you smile against his lips. Finally.

A boom startled you from the kiss and you looked up to see red in the sky. You tensed, wondering if the king of Hybern had indeed come back from the dead and launched a fucking ball of fire at Velaris, but more booms sounded and beautiful, colorful fireworks lit up the night sky.

The reception Rhys and Feyre had planned was almost as ridiculous as Helion's party, but you loved every minute, marveling at the deep hum of your bond as you and Azriel danced.

Even hours later when the music and dancing had finished, you could feel that steady thrum of energy in your body. The way Azriel's eyes sparkled in the low lightning told you he felt it, too. Nesta had planned the last part of your reception, where your family gathered before a carriage to see the two of you off. As you stepped on the walkway, Azriel's hand clutched tightly in your own, Rhys waved his hand and everyone suddenly held a little ball of daylight. You paused in wonder at the sight.

"Now!" Nesta yelled and threw her little ball directly at your chest. It hit you softly and exploded into little sparkles of faelight that shimmered softly against your skin. You looked back to her in surprise and saw the rest of the Inner Circle aiming to toss their faelights at you and Azriel.

Shrieking in delight, you and Azriel ran through the bursting lights to the carriage. Azriel had somehow dodged all of them until you saw Cassian land a direct hit to his nose. Azriel stopped and gave him a glare that would have had lesser males pissing themselves in fear, but Cass only tipped back his head and laughed, elbowing Nesta and pointing at Azriel's unamused, now glowing, face.

Azriel opened the carriage door for you and helped you into the plush space. The two of you waved from the window as the carriage pulled away, the laughter and well-wishes of your friends echoing behind you. You felt your skin heat in anticipation at what was to come. Finally, you could have each other fully, the way you'd been dreaming of. You wouldn't let anything stand in the way.

Azriel waited until the carriage had gone a couple blocks before taking your hand and whisking the two of you away with his shadows.

Directly into a raging thunderstorm.

The little cottage you planned to stay in for your honeymoon, or frenzy as Rhys loved to call it, was on a high cliff above the ocean. It was a stunning view when it was covered in torrential rain.

Azriel had taken you to the front steps of the cottage. He could only blink at you as you were both soaked immediately with rain. You couldn't help but laugh at his disbelieving expression. He shook his head, giving you a half smile, and went to unlock the front door.

The key didn't fit. Azriel shook the handle to no avail and lightly punched the door in defeat.

Grinning a little at your particular string of bad luck, you stepped up to his side, but your smile fell away at the sudden despair on his face.

"Azriel-"

"I'm sorry," he choked out. "Fuck, this was supposed to be perfect. I wanted to make it special for you. We can finally-" He cut himself off, shaking his head.

You touched his arm comfortingly. Before you could speak his shadows enveloped you, carrying you both a few feet through the front door and into the cottage.

Not sparing a glance around the interior, stilling him as he roughly kicked off his shoes, you reached up to cup Azriel's face in your hands, guiding him to look down into your eyes.

"My love," you said. "It doesn't have to be perfect."

"I know, but-" You brushed your thumb over his lips, shushing him.

"Our wedding was perfect. Truly, I couldn't have asked for anything more. And this, sex, marriage, our new life... It's special because I'm with you. My mate, who I adore." You reached up to kiss him lightly. His eyes softened. "Every moment with you is special."

His shadows, which had been twitching nervously, seemed to calm as he placed his hands over your own and brought them to his lips, kissing your fingertips. "I love you so much."

You smiled up at him, feeling the anticipation that had been building all night bubble up. Azriel rested your hands on his shoulders gripping your hips in his own, pressing you closer to him. You both cringed for a moment, feeling your sopping clothes press against your skin.

Azriel's smile turned mischievous. "Let's go take these off."

You pulled away from him, turning and dashing up the narrow set of stairs that you assumed would lead to a bedroom. You paused briefly at the three doors down the hall, trying to guess which would have a bed inside, but Azriel caught up to you, sweeping you into his arms and pulling you in for a heated kiss, your back against the wall.

His hands drifted over the wet fabric of your wedding dress, the coolness of the fabric against the heat of his skin causing you to gasp. He took the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, pushing you more firmly against the wall as he explored your body.

His lips moved to your jaw. "Az..." You moaned, breathless. "Bed."

Azriel sucked on a spot along your jaw that sent sparks flowing through you. "Hm, and what if I want to take you right here?"

You couldn't stop the heat rising to your cheeks at the idea. "Next time." You promised.

He stepped back, grinning. "I do like the sound of that."

He opened the second door in the hallway, backing into a dark bedroom. You vaguely noted the dark wooden furniture with deep blue accepts, but your eyes stayed trained on Azriel's as they seemed to glow brighter in the moonlit room.

You followed him slowly, feeling a sudden touch of shyness though he had seen you plenty of times over the last three years.

He met you just inside the door, kissing you softly. You felt his hands in your hair, gently undoing the intricate style Mor had spent hours on this morning. You hummed as your hair fell back around your face in soft curls.

"You are so beautiful." He breathed, reaching around your back to unlace the corset of your dress. You took the opportunity to slide his jacket from his shoulders, careful to not catch it on his wings, and unbutton his crisp white shirt. You felt your dress fall to your feet, and Azriel helped you carefully step out of it.

You had a momentary thought of hanging it up to dry somewhere but your brain emptied at the look in Azriel's eyes. His pupils were wide and hungry as he took in your body in only lacy white lingerie. His hands gently skimmed over your sides, causing you to shiver. He gripped your hips tightly and dropped to his knees before you, eyes fixated on the little jewels woven into the lace of your panties.

"Please don't rip them." You regained your voice in time to ask.

Azriel smirked up at you. "Would I do that?"

"Yes. Plenty of times--"

Your words turned into a moan as Azriel leaned in to lick a broad stroke up the length of your covered heat before gently pulling the garment down your legs with his fingers brushing your skin.

He helped you step out of them, giving you a pointed look as he folded them and placed them on the floor by your discarded dress. He took off your heels next and placed them down just as reverently as he had your underwear.

Starting at your calf, he began to press kisses up the length of your leg. You shivered as he reached your thigh, his eyes darting between yours and your core. His lips passed it by entirely, though, instead latching on to the skin on your hip and sucking a deep mark.

You took the time to admire how his hair, still dripping with rain, was starting to curl around his ears. You reached down to card your fingers through them gently, and he paused his kissing to stand up to his full height.

You pushed his shirt the rest of the way off around his wings and skimmed your hands over the muscles on his chest, feeling their power and getting a sudden rush at the thought that with you, he would only ever use them for your pleasure.

Azriel seemed to read your mind, pulling you closer so you head rested against his heart. He reached behind you and unlaced your bra, both of you sighing at the feeling of your breasts pressed against his skin as he tossed it to the floor.

When you pulled away to look back in his eyes, the heat growing inside you felt unbearable. You crashed your lips against his and he clumsily stepped back until the backs of his knees hit the mattress. You fumbled with his pants for a moment until he took them and his underwear off in one fluid motion, pulled you on to the bed, and climbed over you to reclaim your lips.

You felt like you were on fire and Azriel was kindling, making you burn hotter and hotter as his hands and skin pressed you deeper into the sheets.

His fingers teased around your clit and you would have screamed had his tongue not been thoroughly occupying your mouth.

When they prodded at your entrance, you had to break away from the kiss. "Azriel, please," you gasped.

"I know," he murmured. "I'll take care of you, I promise."

He kissed you again as his fingers entered you, stretching and curling in a way that had you moaning against his lips.

He was thorough, wanting you to feel no pain when he finally put his cock in you. It wasn't your first time having sex, but he was confident he was the biggest male you'd ever been with.

His fingers continued their delicious torture until you were gasping, "Az--I--I'm close!"

He stopped his movements and pulled out his fingers gently, smirking as you whined at the sudden emptiness. "The first time you're going to come tonight will be on my cock," he said, his voice deep with desire.

"Fucking, please, hurry up then!"

"No way, love, I'll take as long as I like."

Apparently, he didn't like to take long at all because as soon as he finished speaking, he'd lined up the head of his cock with your entrance, teasing momentarily before pushing in a little.

Tears fell from your eyes at the lovely stretch, and you could tell from the way Azriel's arms tensed around you that he was overcome with pleasure as well.

He pushed in a little more, so slowly and gently you could have cried again, and maybe you did. It felt like years passed as the two of you connected deeper and deeper until finally he was seated fully inside you, your legs pulled around his waist and his hips flush against yours.

He paused so you could adjust, but you didn't need to, he'd been so gentle and fit so perfectly. The bond between you felt alive with energy and love.

The way he looked into your eyes had the fire within you cooling for a moment as your mind caught up with where you were. This was your mate, looking down at you like you were the most precious jewel he'd ever seen. You cupped his cheek and he leaned into your touch.

The first thrust of his hips had the fire back in full force, your eyes rolling upward with the feeling. Again, he moved slowly, but with power and intention, making you feel every inch of him slide along your walls and brush against a spot that had you digging your nails into his shoulders.

Azriel made love to you, and you to him. He was whispering in your ear as he moved, but you couldn't decipher what he was saying above the pleasure that seemed to roar throughout your body.

The fire inside was burning hotter and hotter with every thrust of his hips, every breath from his lips on your ear, every flick of the finger he brought down to your clit.

You came with a gasp of his name, your vision going white and feeling light spark through your veins. He came with a shout a moment later, releasing himself deep inside you.

You held each other tightly as you came down from your highs, breathing heavily. Azriel let his weight fall on you and you savored the feeling of him above you, like a warm blanket. You felt his lips place lazy, soft kisses on your neck where he had buried his head.

"Az," you said quietly after a minute.

"Hmm?"

"That was pretty special."

He laughed, "Yeah? Worth three years of waiting?"

"I think so," you tugged on his hair so he would turn to look at you. "But we should do it again, just to be sure."

He smiled and flipped you so you were resting on his chest. He ran his fingers through your hair softly, hazel eyes glowing as he studied your face. "Every moment is special with you."

💙🩵💙

Thank you for reading 🥰

[daydreamerwoah]

Love Through It All Pt. 14

tw: mentions of cheating, mentions of divorce; hurt; angst; anger; rollercoaster of emotion; sadness; arguing; crying; mentions of therapy/counseling; kidnapping; violence; guns; injury; death

Please read Part 1 for my author notes for the beginning of this story if this is your first time here.

For the sake of the story.... let's just pretend that 141 and Laswell worked their magic and Price, Kyle, and Johnny made it just in time lmao! I know that's not how it works in real life :)

You jumped when you heard a loud BANG go off. But it wasn't the sound of Jax's gun that made you jump. It sounded more muffled - more distant - like it was on the other side of the door and down the hallway. You opened your eyes, releasing the breath that you were holding, seeing Simon very much still alive and looking directly at you.

However, the other four men inside of the room turned to the face the door with their guns pointed. Andrei said something in Russian before the two guards walked up to the door. There was a brief pause, as Andrei walked up behind them before one of the men opened it and they left the room.

God, you were fucking scared.

When the sound of multiple gunshots rang outside of the room, you wished you could have been able to cover your ears, the loud popping noises felt like it was deafening you. Surely, you wouldn't be able to hear after that.

In a moment of panic, Jax marched over and stood beside you, pointing his gun at the side of your head. Simon continued to look at you, the chaos not even phasing him. At least on the outside... on the inside, he was worried. Half secretly thanking whatever god there was that Johnny saw the damn text, but half nervous about whose shots were going off.

Then there was silence. Ghostly silence.

The only thing that could be heard were your small sniffles and Jax's heavy breathing. The anticipation of who was about to walk through that door had both you and Simon's pulse racing. But when three sets of footsteps quickly walked in, and you saw three men you instantly recognized, you wanted to let out a scream of happiness. And by the look on your face, Simon knew exactly who walked in, as his back had been facing the door this entire time.

"Let 'em go," Price commanded, his weapon pointed to Jax.

A menacing chuckle left Jax's mouth, "I will shoot her," he said, pushing the barrel of the gun against your temple, making you whimper.

"Let my wife go Jax," Simon said, making the man narrow his eyes at him.

"No," he growled, "You're going to suffer just like we did! All of you! I will kill every single one of you!"

"Then let's talk 'bout it," Johnny chimed in.

Jax threw his head back a little as he laughed, "Talk about it?.. we're done talking. Your nation should have talked about it four years ago! But now..... now you will pay," he quickly glanced at you, holding that evil smirk as always.

The moment his finger tried to pull the trigger, a shot rang out. John's perfect aim successfully pierced a bullet through Jax's head, instantly killing him as his body fell backward to the ground. Simon's body relaxed before Johnny rushed to his friend, cutting the ropes and freeing him, while Kyle ran over to you, doing the same as well as pulling the duct tape off of your mouth.

"You okay?" He asked. But you barely could nod your head.

Your body felt like mush and static at the same time, with the flow of blood finally making its way back into your hands and feet. But that wasn't the only feeling that you had. The second that Simon was kneeling down in front of you, you lurched out of the chair into his arms. You thought you had cried so much that you couldn't produce any more tears, but when his arms wrapped around your waist, you felt so many emotions. The one that topped them all was love.

"I got you, sweetheart. I got you," He said into the crook of your neck.

You couldn't even respond, the only noise coming from you was the slight wailing of cries. It was all too much. And it came crashing down all at once. But you knew one thing... you and Simon made it out alive.

************************************************************************

141 stood in the conference room while Laswell was displayed on the monitor. It was.. strange - talking about a mission that involved you. At least it was for your husband.

Never in a million years did Simon want to talk about such things like death and evilness when it came to you... but there he was, leaning on the wall with his arms crossed over his chest as Laswell explained everything; the truth.

Jax - whose real name was Leonid - had disguised himself as a British soldier in order to obtain access on base. His main goal was to use Pvt Williams as a means to get personal information on certain individuals... including 141. He had no intention of bringing you into the situation.. even when he sent you the videos. He was a young soldier - a pawn in the bigger picture - and at first, he didn't really want to get any civilians involved. (He had somewhat of a heart at least... or he wasn't as much of a killer as he seemed) That was something they had yet to figure out. But it made sense as to why he tried getting you to leave Simon by approaching you with some bullshit story that day.

But when his superior, Andrei, found out that things were taking a little bit longer than planned, he took over the operation, deciding to kidnap you. The only thing Jax almost begged to do was at least make Simon suffer for cheating on you.

But why did all of this happen? Why did they do this?

Because four years earlier, 141 captured their leader. Their commander.

Vladimir Makarov.

They wanted revenge.

"Nolan escaped. He's still out there Laswell," Kyle said.

When the three of them sneaked their way into the building and came in contact with Andrei and the guards, shots rang out, but somehow Andrei Nolan had escaped through the chaos. He was still out there.... and they needed to plan what was going to happen next.

"For now, we need to make sure everythin' is secure," Price said before turning to Simon, "How's Y/n doin'?" He asked.

He nodded, "Fine."

You were, for the most part. After you and Simon were rescued, you were taken to the hospital on base to make sure everything was okay. You kept telling Simon you really didn't need to go, but he insisted you got checked out. Because of the bruising on your wrists and ankles, they decided to keep you overnight for observation. It was ridiculous and you wanted to leave, but with your husband right by your side, it made things easier.

And by your side, he would stay until Price called him for debriefing. He didn't want to leave... he almost told the guys to come to the hospital, but you persuaded him to go and that you'd be fine. So he left.... reluctantly so. But before he did, he made sure the nurses kept an eye on your door. No one was allowed to go in except him or the doctor.

"Talk to her 'bout the plans yeah? Don't wanna risk us losing her again," Price continued.

Again, Simon nodded before leaving and heading right back to the hospital; to you. When he walked into the room, your eyes were closed. The quiet noise from the TV let him know you probably had been watching it before drifting off to sleep. He sat down in the chair next to the bed as he looked at you, eyes glancing down at your wrist. The purple bruises causing a tightening feeling in his stomach.

You were never supposed to be hurt. By him. By Jax. By no one in the world. You were pure - heart and all. Yet you had gone through more pain than he ever imagined. He didn't think he could live with himself if you had been killed.

With a soft sigh, your eyes fluttered open as you looked up at the ceiling, waking up from your dreamless nap. Your eyes shifted and met those of your husbands, a small smile forming on your lips that made his heart lunge out for you.

"Hey," you whispered, "How'd it go?"

His hand reached out to you and grabbed yours softly, his thumb rubbing the knuckles of your hand in comfort, "Fine."

You hummed, eyes grazing over his balaclava. You briefly remembered about the first time you met him. The balaclava intimating you in a curious way.. you were so curious about him; about his life But never were you afraid of him. He tried so hard to keep you at arm's length, even when he was falling for you. And you kept tearing down the shields he wanted so hard to remain between you two.

Nothing could have prepared you for what would happen seven years later. After he proposed. After the wedding. It was difficult to think about it.

"I'm sorry," he lowly said, making your eyes meet his again.

Softly shaking your head, "It's okay Si-"

"No. It's not," He swallowed the lump in his throat, "I ruined everythin'. I hurt you... in more ways than I ever thought I would. I don't deserve you."

His eyes began to water at seeing how yours were starting to. A moment went by as you stared at each other. You didn't know what he was thinking, but you knew how you felt.

"I love you," you said, making his eyebrows furrow a little. It wasn't that he didn't want to hear you say it. He just knew he didn't deserve your love anymore... yet there you were, giving it to him. "I love you so fucking much, Simon. And I always will," You said, making his eyes soften.

"You deserve better than me," He said.

A tear rolled down your cheek as you thought about what you both had become, "But I want to be with you."

It was hard hearing you say that for him. He knew every muscle in his body was telling him to let you go; to bring you peace and happiness. But hearing you say that you wanted to be with him made his stomach flip.

"I promise I'll do whatever you want. I'll make this right sweetheart," He said, his own tear falling from his eye before it disappeared into the cotton material of the balaclava, "I love you."

That small smile turned into a bigger one as you nodded, making a smile form on his own lips - one that you could even see with the crinkle of his eyes. He continued to hold your hand, the two of you sitting in silence and gazing into each other's tearful eyes.

You didn't know what the future would hold for your marriage. You didn't know if things would turn out the opposite of what you just told him. But one thing was for certain... you loved that man with all of you. And that's all that mattered - to love through it all.

THE END.

Well..... that's it for "Love Through It All"... (at least the initial plot). I would like to continue this on as Andrei got away so we don't know what happened after that do we? lol! If you're interested in it, let me know. I also may continue this on over on my AO3 account (I do plan to post this over there as well). And eventually I also may do some edits to the story and change a few things but I'm not sure yet :)I did have some people ask about doing an alternate ending where reader leaves Simon, so sometime this week I do plan to start writing that and post it. I just want to make sure I'm not changing too much to the plot. If you all think I may have left some things out and you want to ask questions about any "behind the scenes" on something in the story, feel free to ask away or message me!

This has been a joy to write and share with you all! I usually start stories and then get bad writer's block to the point where I never finish them, so I'm so glad you all took this journey with me!

I do have two other stories on my AO3 that I started, so I plan to continue them (possibly starting next week I will post a new chapter).

I love you all so much! Take care <3

Taglist: @kalypsoox @fruitymoonbeams-blogz @kylies-love-letter @xrosegoldwolfx @linaaaaa654 @jessicab1991 @darkravenqueen98 @yazyazali @thychuvaluswife @chloeforde @cownini @ssc7514

[verstappenverse]

Not Over Yet

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: In the heat of a painful argument, you declare that your relationship with Max is over, leaving him desperate to hold on.

1.3k words / Masterlist

The deafening silence of the Monaco apartment was suffocating. The echoes of the fight still rang in the air long after the words had been spoken. Max sat on the edge of the couch, his fingers gripping the fabric so hard his knuckles were white. You stood across the room arms wrapped tightly around yourself, as if trying to hold everything together.

“We’re over, Max.” The words hung heavy in the room, each one feeling like a stone dropped into a deep well.

He looked up, his blue eyes wide with shock and disbelief. “What?” His voice was low, barely above a whisper, as if he couldn’t believe what he had just heard.

You turned away from him, unable to face the hurt in his eyes. The hurt that mirrored your own. “I said, we’re done. I can’t—” You struggled to keep your voice steady. “I can’t keep doing this.”

The argument had started hours ago—something small, something insignificant that had spiralled out of control like it always did these days. The never-ending travel, the constant pressure. You knew what you were signing up for when you fell for him, but lately, it felt like everything else in your life had taken a backseat. There were always missed dinners, cancelled plans, and nights where you felt like the third wheel to his love affair with the track.

Max’s eyes hardened for a moment, his pride kicking in as he stood up and paced the length of the living room. “You think I don’t give enough to this relationship?” He snapped, his voice rising. “I work my ass off every day, trying to make sure we have everything. I’m always thinking of you, even when I’m on the track. I—”

“It’s not about the money or the success, Max!” you interrupted, your voice breaking. “It’s about us. About how I feel like I’m always second to everything else in your life. Like I’m not as important.”

Max stopped in his tracks, his back to you as he exhaled sharply. He raked a hand through his tousled hair, trying to calm his emotions. “That’s not fair,” he muttered, his voice quieter now, but still laced with frustration.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, feeling the tears threatening to spill over. “What’s not fair is me feeling alone when you’re standing right next to me.”

He turned to face you, the anger in his eyes replaced with something softer. But it was too late. You couldn’t bear to look at him any longer. The weight of your decision pressed down on your chest, and you took a deep breath before you spoke again.

“We’re over,” you whispered. The finality in your voice made it feel real. “We have to be.”

Max’s face went pale. He took a step toward you, but stopped himself his hands twitching at his sides. He looked at you, really looked at you, for what felt like the first time in weeks. “You…you don’t mean that.”

“I do.” You choked on the words as soon as they left your lips. You didn’t mean it. Not really. But you couldn’t keep living in the shadows, couldn’t keep pretending like everything was fine when it wasn’t.

Max’s heart hammered in his chest the fear of losing you clawing at his throat. He had faced impossible races, gut-wrenching crashes, the pressure of the world’s expectations—but nothing compared to the panic that gripped him now. The thought of losing you of truly being without you, was something he couldn’t handle.

He shook his head slowly, refusing to accept what you were saying. “No. No, we’re not over.”

You blinked back the tears, confused by the certainty in his voice. “Max, you can’t just—”

“I’m not letting you go,” he interrupted, his voice firm but low, almost pleading. “I know I’ve been…distracted. I know I haven’t been there the way I should. But you don’t get to decide we’re done. You can’t just give up on us. Not like this.”

His words hung in the air, and for a moment, neither of you moved. The apartment felt too small, too full of emotions that neither of you could control.

You felt your defences crumbling, your heart aching at the sincerity in his voice. But the hurt was still too raw. “It’s not that simple, Max.”

Max closed the distance between you in a few quick strides, his hands coming up to gently cup your face, forcing you to look at him. His touch was warm grounding you in a way only he could.

“Listen to me,” he said, his voice softer now, desperate. “I know I’ve made mistakes. But I love you. You. You’re not second to anything. You never were. I’m an idiot for making you feel that way, but please…please don’t give up on us.”

You wanted to believe him, wanted to let the walls you had built around your heart crumble. But the fear was still there—the fear that things wouldn’t change, that this would be your life forever, always wondering if you were enough.

Max’s thumb gently brushed away a tear that had slipped down your cheek, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hope. “I can’t lose you,” he whispered, his voice cracking just slightly. It was rare to see Max like this, so raw, so open.

You closed your eyes trying to steady your breathing, trying to find the words to say. “Max, I just… I don’t know if I can keep going like this.”

He pulled you closer his forehead resting against yours as he took a deep, shaky breath. “Then tell me what to do. Tell me how to fix it. I’ll do anything.”

His words were sincere, and you could feel the desperation in his voice. It wasn’t like Max to beg, to be so vulnerable, and it only made your resolve weaken further.

“I don’t want us to be over,” you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “But I don’t want to feel like I’m always competing for your attention either.”

Max pulled back slightly, his hands still gently holding your face as he looked into your eyes. “You’re not competing. I love racing, but I love you so much more. There’s no competition.”

It was the first time he had ever said it so clearly, so bluntly and it took your breath away.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. “I forgot about what really matters. You. Us. I swear to you, I’ll do better. I’ll make time for us.”

His sincerity was undeniable, and for the first time in a long time you felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe things could change. Maybe you could find a way to make it work.

You let out a shaky breath, leaning into his touch. “I don’t want to lose you either Max.”

Relief washed over his face and he pulled you into a tight embrace, holding you like he was afraid you might slip away if he let go. “You won’t. I promise you won’t.”

For a long moment you stayed there, wrapped in each other’s arms the weight of the fight slowly lifting as you both began to breathe a little easier. The future was still uncertain, and there would be more challenges ahead, but for now you were both willing to try.

And for the first time in a long time, it felt like the two of you were on the same team.

Max pulled back slightly, his lips brushing against your forehead. “We’re not over,” he said softly, as if he needed to hear it out loud.

You nodded, resting your head against his chest listening to the steady beat of his heart. “We’re not over.”

[aestheticaltcow]

No Phone Policy 6.0

The final part of No Phone Policy: I had a lot of different ending ideas for this, but low-key. The seasonal depression is hitting pretty hard, so we get an okay ending instead of a fire ending. There may be an epilogue, but don't quote me on that.

The Bear Masterlist

Previous Part

“What’s goin’ on, Y/N? You’re scaring me…” Mars begged as she kneeled beside you, brushing your unkempt hair out of your face. After what had happened with Carmy, you’d come to her downtown apartment. You didn’t answer her question. You closed your eyes and tried to take a breath, only for it to get caught in your throat.

Mars sighed and let you be in her guest room. 

Your Dad, on the other hand, had none of this. When Mars had updated him on what was happening, he was mentally preparing to go to prison for the rest of his life. He was going to kill Carmen Berzatto and happily admit to doing it. No one hurt one of his little girls and got away with it. 

He pulled up to you and Carmy’s house early that afternoon. He parked next to Carmy’s car and calmly approached the door. He remembered where the two of you hid your spare key and let himself in. 

“Carmen,” he called as he began walking upstairs, clenching and unclenching his fists as he vaguely remembered the layout of your home. He saw an open door and confidently walked in to see Carmy holding his granddaughter. Her eyes were wide as she furious sucked on a tie-dye pacifier, “Oh hey Marty. Y/N isn’t here..” Carmy trailed off awkwardly, unsure of how much you’d told your dad. 

“That’s Mr. Y/L/N to you, Carmen. Now, give me my granddaughter and start explaining what you did to my buggy,” he said authoritatively. Carmy sighed and handed Wolf off to him.

“Hi, gorgeous girl. You look just like your mommy- why is your mommy not here? Did your daddy do something stupid?” 

Carmy swallowed as he stood before Marty awkwardly, “We’ve been fighting… she has some fuckin’ postpartum thing. I don’t know- I wanted things to go back to the way they were, and I guess I pushed her too far. I didn’t hurt her- at least this time… she was ignoring me, and I grabbed her wrists, but this time, she fell down the stairs and ran off. She isn’t answering my calls, so I don’t know where she is.” 

Marty didn’t believe him for a dam second. “Be so happy I’m holding my granddaughter right now, or I’d beat the crap out of you, Carmen.”

Carmy nodded, knowing it was true, “Look, Mar- Mr. Y/L/N, I love Y/N more than I could ever. I’ve been killin’ myself over missing Wolf’s birth since she came out. I fuckin’ failed as a father and as a husband. I- I don’t deserve your daughter; I never have, and I never will. I just wanna talk to her. If she wants to leave, I’ll sign whatever- I just wanna see my daughter.” Carmy swallowed softly, suppressing the urge to cry.

~

Carmy dug through his closet that morning as Natalie sat on his bed, holding Wolf on her lap. “So, how do you want today to go?” she asked, wiping Wolf’s mouth with a tissue. Carmy huffed and pulled out a blue button-up shirt from the back of his closet. He was unsure if it would fit, but it was the ‘most court-appropriate,’ as Pete would say. 

“I dunno. Guess what were doin’ now?” he chuckled as he threw the shirt to the bottom of the closet still on the hanger. “Fuck it- I haven’t seen my wife in fuckin’ weeks. I’m fuckn’ tired of this shit. I want her to come home. I don’t wanna get divorced and fuckin’ share custody. I want her here, with Wolf, with me- as a fuckin’ family.” he scoffed as he moved to sit next to Natalie. “It took a year and a half to even get pregnant, and then I went and fucked everything up.” 

Natalie put her free hand on his shoulder and smiled sympathetically, “I can’t imagine what you’re goin’ through right now, Carmen, but I think if you stand there and speak from the heart, everything will work out.” 

Carmy shrugged and took Wolf from her lap. She laughed at the feeling of Carmy’s hands wrapping around her waist. He couldn’t help but smile at the sound, “You’re gonna have so much fun with Auntie Sugar… be a good girl, okay?” 

Carmy’s question was met with happy gurgling and a gummy smile. He smiled and kissed her before handing her back to Natalie, “Well, which me luck.” Carmy grinned as he excused himself.

~

When you entered the courtroom, Carmy felt his heart skip a beat. He didn’t realize how long it had been since he’d last seen you. You’d changed your hairstyle from what it had been to a shoulder-length bob; you also dyed it darker. Carmy swallowed when you took your jacket off. He hadn’t seen you in person for weeks, and as much as he tried, he could tear his eyes away from your chest. 

The judge called the hearing to start and began asking questions concerning the nature of the divorce. The words went through Carmy’s head, but he didn’t hear them. He was preoccupied with you. He noticed how you picked at your cuticles and kept crossing and uncrossing your legs and the glossy look in your eyes. You were on the verge of tears throughout the hearing, this was the last thing you’d wanted to do. Having your marriage dissolve. 

“Mrs. Berzatto, do you agree to the laid out terms?” you were brought back to reality when the judge had asked you the question. You looked at your lawyer who urged you to answer, you swallowed and finally looked at Carmy. When your eyes met his, everything flooded back. Meeting him at some bar all those years ago, your first date when he spilled both his and your wine glasses on you. His horribly awkward apologizes led him to info dump of how to get red wine stains out of cotton which led to the deeper conversation of how he’d been collecting denim with his brother since he was a teenager. Memories of laughing together, him attempting to help you with your homework, cooking dinner together at 3 in the morning, and just loving and being loved by him flood your mind. Being with Carmy was like being in a rom-com from the early 2000s.

“Y/N?” your lawyer asked, snapping you out of your thoughts. You took a deep breath and tried to say something, but no words could come out. “I-uh.” You stammered, “I’m sorry.” You managed to get out before quickly walking out of the courtroom, ignoring your lawyer's call after you. 

Carmy watched you hurry out of the room and then turned his attention to the judge. “May I?” he asked, gesturing to the door. “Be my guest, Mr. Berzatto.” The judge exasperated. Carmy nodded and quickly walked out of the courtroom to find you.

You were sitting on a bench just outside the courthouse with your face in your hands. He shoved his hands into his pockets and slowly walked to the bench. As he sat next to you, he heard you sigh. “Hi, Carm,” you said softly. 

“How’s you know it was me?” he asked playfully. He heard you scoff and watched you push your hands through your hair. 

“You always smell like smoke, spearmint, and old spice,” you answered, looking up at him. He chuckled, and you watched him adjust into a more comfortable position.

“You look good. How have you been?” Carmy asked as he turned to face you. You bit the inside of your cheek nervously. “Biting the inside of your cheek… am I making you nervous?” he teased. You rolled your eyes and sighed.

“Really shitty… I’ve been absolutely dreading this day all week.” you laughed as you finally looked up at him. “Who schedules a divorce hearing on a Friday afternoon? Sorta a weekend killer, isn’t it?” 

Carmy laughed at the sentiment, “A bit. For what it counts… I’m sorry for everything I’ve done.”

“Don’t apologize. I’ve been thinking a lot and…” you took another breath as you pushed a loose lock of hair behind your ear. I don’t know what I want to do.” 

Carmy’s eyebrows knit together as he shot you a confused look, “Do for what?” 

“Obviously, I don’t know what I want for dinner.” You sarcastically joked, “I don’t know if I want to get divorced.”

“What brought that on?” Carmy asked shifting in his seat moving closer to you. You copied the movement and thought for a moment before explaining. 

“Wolf, in all honesty. I look at her and I see you.” you laughed, “I don’t know if you know but Natalie sends me at least three pictures of the two of you together everyday.” Carmy chuckled at that, he hadn’t asked Natalie to do that but he appreciated it in the moment. “I don’t want her to have divorced parents and I-” you paused for a second “I don’t want to get divorced.” 

“You don’t want to get divorced?” Carmy repeated, making sure he’d heard you correctly.

“I don’t want to get divorced.” You said again. The comment left Carmy dumbfounded, “I’ve been thinking a lot, and I guess I realized you are sorry for all the shit you did. I said some really mean shit to you, and while it was somewhat deserved, I’ve been reflecting a lot, and- I don’t wanna get divorced. Do you?”

Carmy laughed at the obscurity of the question: “You initiated this baby. When I asked you to marry me, I meant it till death.” You sniffled at Carmy’s words and reached out for him. Carmy grinned and moved to hug you. Having you in his arms felt foreign, not in a bad way, but in an unfamiliar way. 

It wasn’t an overnight ‘get back together’. It took work, and the two of you were ready to do it.

[liahaslosthermind]

~ 𝐀 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 ~

Mentions of Rhysand x OC (Adelaide), Eventual Azriel x OC Part 1 of Betrayal Summary: She would have chosen him over her mate every time, so why couldn’t he do the same for her?

Warnings: Hurt/No Comfort, Death, Cheating, Betrayal

It hurt.

It hurt so much.

Not physically, she couldn't feel her body anymore, but emotionally.

Encircled by a pool of her own blood, watching the man she had devoted her life to collapse to his knees in front of his mate's body, leaving his lover alone to watch.

Feyre would be okay, Adelaide knew that much, and deep down so did Rhysand. But as the feeling of incoming doom fell upon her, she knew she wouldn't be so lucky.

He didn’t seem to care much for her at that moment though.

It was inevitable that Rhysand would one day have to choose between the girl he had loved for most of his existence or the mate he had just hardly gotten to know, but Adelaide didn’t think it would be so soon, or that Rhys would pick Feyre. They were chosen by The Mother to share a special type of bond, she knew that. She also knew she envied Feyre, she was stronger, had much more of a back bone, and mated to the love of her life.

When he had first mentioned meeting his mate, Adelaide had practically brushed it off. She was so sure she had no reason to worry, over 300 years together couldn't be thrown away by a young, human girl.

The moment Feyre's shoe hit her lover, though, thats when she began to sweat.

Had Adelaide been able to, had blood not started to pool in her mouth, she would have laughed.

While they had known there was no mating bonds between them, Rhysand and Adelaide had vowed to never think twice about their mates. When Adelaide met her mate many years ago, Rhysand hadn't given her the opportunity or chance of choosing between the two. Not even a week after the bond had snapped, her mate was found dead in his bed.

She still knew she would have picked Rhys every time, but apparently the feeling wasn’t mutual. 

So there she was, laying in a puddle of her own blood, watching her long time partner nurture his shaken up, but still perfectly healthy, mate he had told Adelaide not to worry about. 

“Are you alright? What can I do?” He asked Feyre as he caressed her arm, checking her over, and then checking again.

“I’m fine. I just need a moment.” Feyre responded. Rhys was so concerned about her even though she would be walking away with a mere flesh wound and a few sleepless nights at most. Adelaide tried to call out but only the sound she produced was from choking on her own blood. Rhysand didn’t turn around, instead holding his mate closer.

But finally, after an eternity alone on the cold floor, she felt someone grab her hand.

Azriel had crawled over to his best friend the moment he saw she had hit the ground. The faebane in his system from a few nasty slashes making it impossible to do more than that.

He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. After years of a strong friendship the two could communicate through their eyes alone. He looked concerned and pale. She couldn't tell how hurt he was, her eyes hardly letting her see his blurry face.

He sat up as well as he could, bringing her close to him, and began holding her cheak as he tried to sooth her.

Or maybe he was trying to sooth himself. He was the damned Shadowsinger, the spy master, he had always been annoyingly perceptive. No matter how hard he denied it, he knew she wasn't walking away from this.

Tears streaming down his face as he held in his sobs. Such a strange sight to most, he never let anyone see him cry, except the girl that laid dying in his lap.

“It’s okay Az. I will be okay.” She said ad well as she could with the prominent taste of iron in her mouth. He could almost laugh, even in her last moments she put Azriel first.

“You know thats not true.” He said as he glimpsed up to look at Rhysand, pure hatred in his eyes for what his brother was doing at moment, and for what he was not doing.

Just as he went to call his name,

“Don’t. He is happy, it was bound to happen.”

“Not like this, he wasn’t supposed to pick her. He promised he wouldn’t. I’m sorry.” Azriel couldn't tell whether it was anger or early onset grief that was making him shake in this moment.

Adelaide remembered that. After a fight with Rhysand about being too busy training Feyre to spend time with her, and after running to Azriel in tears, he yelled at Rhysand for his actions, made him promise to stay away from Feyre. The cpnversation was not unlike another the two had had before regarding Feyre's youngest sister and Azriel's intentions. Azriel made him promise to put Adelaide first, always. And Rhys had agreed, but apparently that promise had an expiration date.

“I know, but it's not your fault Az, don’t believe it is.”

“He should be here with you right now. Not me. If I fought him harder on this maybe he would have changed his-”

“Let him live his life with regret that he wasn’t with me in the end. Cause now that I know who he would truly pick, there is no one else I'd rather have next to me than you, Azriel.”

That silenced him.

He watched as she started to slip away, felt helpless as all he could do was hug her tighter.

With one whispered ‘thank you’ she drifted off, embracing whatever death had planned for her.

Her last thought was that she hoped he knew she wasn't just thanking him for that moment, but 400 years of companionship, of heartfelt conversations, of stupid fights, of full fledged loyalty, of love.

A cry broke out as Azriel looked at her now limp body. Concerned, Rhysand took his attention off Feyre, to his brother and what was causing his wails, fearing the worst, that he was hurt.

Dread filled Rhysand, he couldn't handle dealing with another wounded member of his family. But the image of a crying Azriel, a rare sight indeed, holding his lover's lifeless body, stole all the air from his lungs. 

Azriel looked at his High Lord and through his tears spoke with so much pain and hatred in his voice, Rhysand believed that yelling would have been easier to endure. 

“You didn’t even look back. You didn’t even check on her.” Azriel cried out, holding his best friend even closer as Rhysand made his way over on shaky feet. 

Az yelled a broken ‘No’ when his High Lord got too close. He didn’t get this, he didn’t get to hold her after she spent spent her last moments watching him hold another woman. So he didn’t. Azriel, still holding onto her body, disappeared into the shadows before his brother could try anything.

As Rhysand fell to his knees in all consuming grief for who he lost and guilt for not being there, he felt even more shame at the way his body reacted to the warm touch Feyre provided, and at the breath he let out when he was reminded his mate was still alright.

[frostiwars]

day 2!! first kiss!!

LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOOOOO I DID IT

say hello to my kirby gijinka yaoi doujinshi manga

prose version will be under the cut! i'm so proud of myself for getting this done on time!

King Dedede and Meta Knight trailed through the halls of the palace, a cool tension still hanging between them. Meta Knight and Kirby had recently returned from their escapades in the Mirror Dimension, and Meta had just finished telling Dedede all the relevant details. A tumultuous mixture of pride and irritation swam through the king’s chest. 

“Yeah, that’s great ‘n all, but why didn’t ya tell me you were headin’ out on a dangerous mission like that?”

“...It didn’t seem relevant. I intended on dealing with this issue on my own, and it was only through sheer coincidence that Kirby happened to be nearby.”

“More like luck. You woulda been dead right now if it weren’t for that kid.”

“That is highly unlikely,” the knight retorted. “I would have been able to escape and take them down eventually.”

“And while that happened, Dreamland mighta crumbled without ya!”

“What, are you saying that you and Kirby wouldn’t have been able to keep things in shape if I weren’t here?”

Dedede spluttered. “N- no! I just- I don’t like the idea that-” He suddenly halted when he realized they were finally at his chamber doors. He eased them open roughly, mumbling to himself. The king only spoke again when they’d slammed shut behind him and Meta Knight. 

“I don’t want ya t’get hurt is all.”

“I am a warrior. Getting injured is inevitable.”

“NO! Not- that ain’t what I meant! I care about you, ya moron! I care about all my subjects!”

Meta Knight heaved a sigh. From Dedede’s perspective, it seemed he was dismissing whatever affection he had for the Voidborn…

But truthfully, Meta Knight wished the king’s care for him was more than just a king loving his loyal subject. He wished… No, it was selfish of him to want such a thing. He should be grateful enough as it is that Dedede accepted him back after the stunt he pulled a year or so ago. 

“I appreciate the sentiment…” was all he could muster up in reply. Dedede scoffed and sat down roughly on his bed, crossing his arms. 

“I guess that’s all I’m gonna get with ya, huh? Sheesh…”

A silence fell over them. Meta Knight clenched and unclenched his fists, unsure of whether to release his cape from his grip. If he really desired affection from the king that much, then shouldn’t he at least make some effort to show some vulnerability? The least he could do was stop hiding behind his cape like a child. But no, he couldn’t even do that…

“I… was just… trying to make things up to you…” he eventually murmured. 

“...Huh?”

“I didn’t want to ask for help. This was… this was supposed to be part of my atonement for my misdeeds against Dreamland. Against… you. But I see now that was a foolish endeavor.”

Dedede diverted his gaze away from the knight, opting to stare out the window at the sunset. Again and again, he tried to forget that incident with his best knight never happened. But he kept… bringing it up! What was his problem anyway? It was a damn embarrassment, more than anything else. For BOTH of them. Why Meta didn’t want to just forget about it was beyond him. 

“I don’ really care about that, y’know. You don’t gotta keep kickin’ yourself for somethin’ I already…” He didn’t want to say he ‘forgave’ him for it. Because he couldn’t forgive someone for something that they never explained to him. He just… wanted to ignore it. Like he ignored all his problems. 

“You may want to forget it, but I don’t wish to make the same mistake again. The only way that I can end that incident is if I properly atone for it.”

Dedede clenched his fists. “Y’know what would REALLY help atone? Actually tellin’ me WHY you did it in the first place!”

“I already told you why.” Meta Knight had to resist every urge in his body to not shout back at his king. Arguing like this would not help matters. “I disagreed with the lazy lifestyle of this country and your lackadaisical approach to ruling your people. I thought I would be better suited for the throne. It was a ridiculous notion. That was all.”

“NO! No it AIN’T! That CAN’T be it!”

“WHY?” he finally snapped back, letting his cape flow loose behind him as he gestured with his arms. “What reason do you have to believe that??”

“Because I- I mean I was TRYIN’! I was doin’ better! I- I tried to stop Nightmare and I- I almost did- I-” Dedede crossed his arms and gripped the fabric of his coat. “I tried t’fight back against that Dark Matter creep and- I- I know I didn’t win, but I tried my best… I was really tryin’ to be a better king for once. And- and what do I get for it?!”

He pointed accusingly at Meta. “My best knight tries to overthrow me! NO! I DON’T get it! Was I not ENOUGH!? Should I’a just TRIED HARDER?! Oh, sure, let me just STOP MYSELF from gettin’ possessed next time! That was MY FAULT, wasn’t it?! It was MY FAULT Kirby couldn’t just keep t’themself and had to go huntin’ all across the country just cuz a couple brats couldn’t stand a few bad dreams! Yeah- I shoulda TRIED harder!!”

At this point, the king was on his feet and practically in a rage. Meta Knight clenched his fists and tried not to step back. He had to stand his ground. But… but he didn’t realize…

Well, of course it made sense. He thought that Meta Knight thought he deserved it. That wasn’t what he meant at all… but he never told him that either. 

“It wasn’t your fault…” Meta Knight spoke in a low, almost gravelly tone. “That was the entire problem.”

Dedede’s breath still huffed in rage, but he waited for the knight to continue.

“I… those things never should have happened the way they did in the first place. You hid the truth of what you did to the Dream Fountain because you didn’t think the people could handle it. You were possessed by that demon because no one was keeping a proper eye on you… No one was doing their damn job. It was JUST you… just you and Kirby… and Kirby is a mere child.”

“What’re you sayin’??”

“I- It’s not just that. There was more. So much more I didn’t even know about. I looked into the history of Dreamland, and I looked into… your past as well.” At that, Dedede flinched, imperceptibly to himself but noticeable to Meta Knight. “There was so much, so many piled up incidents that I realized… you’re not… you’re not safe being the king of Dreamland.”

Dedede grit his teeth and his eyes widened. “Are you sayin’ I’m too WEAK to handle this shit?! Are you KIDDING ME!? THAT’S YOUR EXCUSE?!”

Meta Knight backed up against the wall as the king drew closer, his utter hatred fully palpable. “N- No- that’s not what I meant at all! I just-”

“You can’t just- I can’t BELIEVE you! What do you think I am?! Do you think I’m some pathetic kid that needs t’be coddled or something?!”

“Of course not- I don’t- It’s not as if I still think that- I really did- DO want what’s best for you-”

“HA! That’s the biggest pack of lies I’ve heard in a LONG time! And that’s sayin’ something, considering how much you lie to me ALL THE TIME.” King Dedede slammed his foot against the ground, almost leaving chips in the tiled floor. Meta Knight pushed past him and ran off a few feet, trying to escape the increasingly claustrophobic atmosphere. But he was still in the same room. All he did was run closer to the bed. 

But Dedede didn’t follow him. He just… glared at his back from across the room. Meta Knight leaned over, trying to calm his hyperventilation. This never would have happened if he had just… been honest with himself. King Dedede was right… he was right about him, all along. All he ever did was lie. 

He spoke through deep breaths. “You’re… right… I’m still lying to you… even now… I can’t ever… just be honest with myself… can I..?”

Dedede didn’t reply beyond taking a few steps closer to him. He reached forward to turn Meta Knight around so he would quit hiding from him, but his hand froze in the air.

Meta’s hand reached up and unclasped the latch holding his mask to his head. The bit of hair normally tamped down by the leather sprung up… his mask… now dangled loosely by his hip.

But he didn’t turn around.

King Dedede had never seen Meta Knight’s face before. Well, strictly speaking, that wasn’t true, but they were both kids at the time. He didn’t know at all what he looked like now, or why he so desperately tried to hide his face at all times. 

What was his game here?

“You’re right… my king. I have been hiding so many things from you. I’ve been lying to you, and I’ve been lying to myself. For almost a year… maybe more…”

“Uh…” This time, Dedede was the one who had to resist the urge to take a step back. The shock of Meta Knight removing his mask, even if he couldn’t see his face, was more than enough to cool down his head. “L- look I… I didn’t mean t’- I shouldn’ta said those things. I’m sorry- I’m sure you didn’t mean it like that and I- uh- I don’t even care anymore-”

“Now YOU are lying,” Meta Knight shot back coldly. “This has been bothering you for a while. And it will continue to bother you until I speak honestly. Correct?”

Damn him… of course he was right. But he didn’t WANT to admit Meta was ever right about anything. “Look, if you drop it, I’ll drop it.”

The knight’s voice shook in a way Dedede had never heard before. “No… I really shouldn’t keep lying… I might never see you again after this. But I need you to know my most honest, genuine self before that happens.”

“Wh- wait- wait what’dya mean I might not-” He didn’t want to go THAT far! He was just a bit mad, he didn’t- 

In one swift motion, Meta Knight spun around to face his king and grabbed his face in both his hands, pulling him down to his level. He stood on his toes and practically smashed their lips together, locking them in his with an intense, almost burning warmth. Dedede’s eyes shot wide open, but all he could see was his knight’s eyes creased shut, an almost pained expression on his face.

For a split second, Dedede considered resisting… but in an instant he realized what this meant… the implications of this kiss paired with the declaration of worry for the king’s safety… to such an extent that he would try to take his place… 

It’s not just because he thought he was weak… no… it’s because he genuinely cared… about HIM. He… was in love with him.

Someone was in love with King Dedede so much that he would tear the world apart to keep him ‘safe.’

He’d never felt such a painful joy in his heart before. 

Had… had no one ever made him feel loved like this before..? Is that why it hurt so much..? Or was it Meta Knight’s misguided plan that hurt even more? Did he really misunderstand him so much that… he didn’t realize Dedede wouldn’t want something like that?

No… he knew he was wrong… he’d proved himself to Dedede twice over now. He protected this planet during the Crystal Shard Hunt, and just now, he managed to save the Mirror Dimension from Dark Mind. He proved that he could be trusted. And he’d made it clear time and time again that he knew he was wrong.

Dedede pressed his hands against Meta’s, holding him in place and leaning into the kiss. He squeezed his eyes shut, relishing in this sensation he didn’t recognize.

This love he didn’t recognize.

Is this what love feels like too? This burning in his chest? This pounding of his heart? He did value Meta Knight as his best warrior up until now… and he didn’t realize they could ever be more than that. He felt as if a whole new world of possibilities had opened up to him. Like seeing color for the first time after a lifetime of gray.

If this was what love felt like, he’d be more than happy for seconds. 

Eventually, Meta Knight pulled away and gently opened his eyes. As Dedede did so as well, he was instantly struck by the knight’s face.

He was… beautiful.

Those glowing, golden eyes framed by sun-darkened skin and deep-blue locks… that deceptively youthful face contrasted against the harsh, visceral scarring… 

It was just like him, wasn’t it? Of course a person with a nightmarishly deep voice would come out lookin’ like the cutest man this side of Pop Star. He couldn’t expect anything from him, could he?

The man lowered his head, shadowing his face in his bangs. He sounded on the verge of tears as he spoke. 

“I… I understand if you never want to see me again…”

“Wh- NO! No, don’t go!” the king shouted with such desperation that it made his heart ache. He couldn’t just show him what love was and then abandon him! 

“I don’t- I- I understand- you wish to punish me, of course-”

“NO!! NO, no, don’t go- don’t leave- I- I mean- I like- I liked it!!” was all he could splutter out, baffling both of them in the process.

“You… what…?” 

“I mean I- I don’t want you to- I get it! I get it! You… oh geez…” He ran a hand through his hair, pushing up his crown in the process. He didn’t even bother to catch it as it fell to the floor. “I didn’t even realize you felt this way… man, am I dense…”

“No, my king, this isn’t your fault! I- I was hiding it from you all this time because… well, I don’t even know anymore. I couldn’t express myself properly. I couldn’t just be honest…”

“Pff- yeah, you’d rather overthrow the government than just say ‘I like ya.’ SHEESH.” Dedede harrumphed lightheartedly and plastered on one of his classic cheery grins. It was enough to make Meta Knight’s heart skip a beat… and remember why he fell in love in the first place.

He was so happy… all the time, despite everything.

“I love that about you… You really do just… manage to push through everything, don’t you?” 

“Ehaha~ I try my best!” Dedede scratched the back of his head. There was that word again… ‘Love.’

Somebody loved him… He didn’t know that was possible.

Just the very idea made him want to explode. How could he possibly turn this down? Already, the very idea of being in love made his heart race.

Meta Knight… strong, brave, beautiful, determined Meta Knight. His most valued court member, without any doubt. He’d been his best friend at the time of the Fountain of Dreams incident. That was why he trusted him with the pieces.

Even after the betrayal, it only hurt so much because he cared about him so much. Even now, he wanted him safe… The idea of him getting stuck in a creepy alternate dimension… sure, it would frighten anyone… but the whole time, he couldn’t help but think if Meta Knight would make it out alive. Wondering if he’d never see his dear knight again. Wondering if they’d end off their relationship on a tense, unsatisfied note. If they’d never get to reconcile…

It wasn’t unnatural at all, was it? Maybe he just needed it to be put into words. Even admitting it in a roundabout way was good enough, yeah? He wanted this, he realized. He wanted this. 

King Dedede laughed again. “But, uh, t’be honest, you ain’t too bad yourself! I mean, I didn’t even know we COULD be in love but… all the reasons you’re my best knight? They’re the things I like about YOU!” He placed his finger under the knight’s chin, and that gesture alone made both their hearts nearly explode. “So… I guess we’re in the same boat, huh?”

Meta Knight chuckled. “Is that how we want to phrase it?”

“Pfff, alright, since obviously YOU’RE not gonna say it!” Dedede took another step closer. “D’you wanna kiss me again?”

This time, Meta Knight hesitated.

“You’re not… you aren’t disgusted by my face?”

“What? Of course not! You look gorgeous!”

Meta Knight’s blush stickers lit up like fireworks at that compliment, accentuating the natural blush flushing his face ever-darker. He lowered his head once more and had to clench his fists to stop himself from burying his face in his hands. “Th- thank you, my king.”

“No problem ya big dork. Now… why don’t ya… uh…” Eh- heheh… as excited as he was about this, he wasn’t any good with pretty talk. This was his first experience after all. Crap, how do you say ‘kiss me’ in a way that makes someone actually wanna do it?

“Why don’t you show me that love again?”

Yeah… that seemed good enough..!

[babyboydaniel]

you can only chase a butterfly for so long | daniel ricciardo x max verstappen

warning: angst, hurt/comfort | word count: 570

since i am still trying to deal with what happened, i decided to write a little something to just work through some of it. so please read at your own risk. it will all be okay, even if right now there doesn't seem to be any hope.

As the morning sun slipped through the gaps in the curtain the unbearable weight of tomorrow fell over him. The emotional turmoil that was yesterday was a thing of the past, and now all he is left with is the aftermath of that storm. Though he was wrapped in the warm embrace of his boyfriend, the iciness lingered beyond the surface level. The unforgiving frost worked its way between his ribs until it pierced his heart. This was supposed to be his second chance. A moment to do it over again, and it was never supposed to end like this. End it such uncertainty that felt so final. 

His body and mind ached from the battering. His eyes filled with tears as they streaked down his face attempting to wash away the pity-filled words that were thrown at him. He tried to keep his body from rocking with sadness and prevent the sobs of betrayal from breaking through his lips, wanting to keep this moment to himself. Max did not deserve to be woken up by him in this state. But, Max was always so perceptive even when asleep. He was aware of even the most minuscule shift in his mood.  

“Daniel,” Max began, his arms pulling him impossibly closer. 

“I’m sorry I woke you,” Daniel responded, his voice thick with tears. 

“Oh, baby,” Max whispered as he pressed a kiss to the back of his neck, “No need to apologize. I am here for you, always.”

Max’s words floated over his skin, providing pockets of warmth for him to sink into. For many years Daniel had Max by his side. Whether that was as teammates, rivals, friends, and eventually partners, it is the one thing he will never take for granted. Even through all of the blatant betrayal and pure disrespect, he would do it all again if that meant he got Max. 

“I want you to know that you are so loved. Loved by me, by your family and friends, and by so many others. I cannot imagine what you are going through, but I will be right by your side as we work through it.”

Daniel nodded as more tears fell, unable to form any more words. Tired of defending himself, tired of proving himself, tired of showing up and pretending that all was good, tired of the false positivity, tired of having his character questioned. It wore him down until he could no longer fight. 

“We will take our time because you deserve nothing less. This fucked up decision is not a reflection of you. It was never about you, and you were too good for the bullshit they put you through. You are always too good, Daniel. Most people don’t deserve you,” Max continued as he pressed delicate kisses along his shoulders. 

Daniel shifted in his arms until their chests were pressed together and their eyes met. Max’s blue eyes which were usually so guarded were laid open. Every emotion and feeling was on display, leaving nothing for Daniel to question. His honesty was apparent and his love and adoration were overflowing that if he wasn’t careful he could drown in it. 

“I love you,” Daniel stated. It was an absolute, a fact. 

With the gentleness of handling a porcelain doll, Max reached out and brushed his thumb along his cheek. The tenderness caused his heart to ache in a completely different way. “I love you too.”

[grandline-fics]

Could you please write a gn reader with Crocodile, Kid and Buggy hurting them while controlled?

DESCRIPTION: They hurt you while controlled by a devil fruit

WARNINGS: angst, descriptions of injury, hurt to comfort

CHARACTERS: Zoro, Law, Shanks, Mihawk | Luffy, Ace, Sabo | Crocodile, Kid

WORDS: 1,946

A/N: Thank you for requesting! This seems to be a popular request. I mean who doesn't love some hurt/comfort themed angst. Only managed to get something thought up for with Crocodile and Kid. I'll get one for Buggy done soon and include it with one of the other characters requested. Hope you like what I came up with!

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST

———————

CROCODILE

Crocodile was never a stranger to violence or bloodlust when the fighting got intense but this was intense. This was all consuming and possessive, this anger and desire to obliterate anything and everything in his path took hold of him so fiercely. In the haze he was faintly aware of voices calling for him, trying to appeal to his better nature, urging him to calm before he hurt those he was allied with but he didn’t listen, part of him didn’t want to listen. It had been a while since he got to truly go all out like this. Slowly he felt the violent waves coursing through his blood begin to pull back and clarity began to return to his mind and then he felt the familiar warmth of your body against his. Crocodile looked down at you and for a moment it would have been easily mistaken for a soft embrace between you both. 

However as he came to his senses he finally saw the hazy, unfocused look in your pained eyes and felt the slowly dampening of his shirt cuff that met the base of his hook. The sense of dread that overcame Crocodile felt so much worse and far more intense than his earlier rush of unexplained savagery. He could hear the slow almost rhythmic dripping of your blood hitting the ground and it mixed painfully with your struggled breaths, weak and thready. He moved to get a better look only to stop when your shaking hand touched his cheek. Crocodile reluctantly met your gaze and tensed to see you let out a shuddering sigh of relief and your trembling lips fell into smile. “Cr…croc…y-you’re back. Good.”

Good? Good?! Even now you were concerned for him? It seemed as though you had forced yourself to stay conscious long enough to ensure he’d returned to his usual self because as soon as you’d confirmed it your already weakened body slumped against his, completely unconscious. Immediately Crocodile sprung into action, barking commands for any and all those around him to clean up the destruction he’d caused while those that had medical training saw to you first and any others he’d hurt second. You were his priority. When he’d safely transferred you to the care of the medics while also having to remove his hook from his arm he turned to those he trusted most to explain what had happened. 

It turned out someone from his past held a grudge fiercer than he’d given them credit for and sent one of their subordinates to deal with Crocodile for his past doings. While they had only been told to kill the former Warlord, the subordinate’s Devil Fruit had presented a much more enticing method to inflict Crocodile’s punishment. While disguised, they’d managed to get close enough to place Crocodile under their influence and command him to cause as much carnage as possible. The Devil Fruit user had been dealt with when they tried to escape Cross Guild but even then their power had a time limit and in that time, Crocodile had wrought destruction that only proved how fearsome a man he really was under the fine clothes and practiced patience your influence had formed in him over the years. 

Through the time you lay sleeping, Crocodile remained sat at his desk in the bedroom deciding to throw himself into the distraction of work while also remaining close. He still refused to reattach his hook. Every time he so much as looked at it, despite it having been cleaned and polished so intensely he could only see it still covered in your blood and it actually sickened him. Had it been anyone else he’d gored with his signature prosthetic he wouldn’t have bat an eye. Hell he didn’t even feel guilty about the others who’d been injured in his rampage, it was only how he nearly killed you that haunted him. He’d been so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn’t notice you’d woken until you were trying to sit up in the bed. Immediately he dispersed his body into sand and was across the room in an instant. “Slowly, love. Just sit back and rest.”

“Where’s your hook?” You asked weakly, eyebrows pulling together in confusion as you let him coax you back against the propped up pillows. Crocodile studied your face carefully but the small scowl on his lips told you he wasn’t going to answer. “This has really shaken you, hasn’t it?”

“You’re the only thing that I’d consider that makes me vulnerable. To be the one responsible for this…” he paused to glanced down, knowing the severe injury now hidden by your clothes and bandages. “I suppose even I can be shakable in those circumstances.”

“I understand. Just don’t let it haunt you for too long, okay?” You asked, leaning in to his touch when his hand cupped your face gently. Crocodile took a long steadying breath and nodded, pulling his hand away from your face to reach into the inside of his coat and hesitantly pulled out his hook and into view. Through it all he watched your expression carefully in case the sight of it drew out your true subconscious feelings of fear over the fact this was the weapon that could have killed you. Instead you gently took it to assist reattaching it, smiling wide when it clicked into place. 

KID

“What’s happened now?!” You shouted over the high pitched shriek of Kid’s magnetic powers kicked into a fiercer frequency. You and the rest of the crew had engaged in a full scale battle that had been going smoothly. Your opponents weren’t pushovers but they weren’t exactly the strongest people you’d ever fought. It was enough to be fun and still break a slight sweat, the perfect balance you thought. Just as things seemed to have been winding down, Kid’s outburst of mounting power erupted as if from nowhere with no discernible reason why. You let out a gasp of shock and dodged just in time as a large shard of metal cut through the air. You looked to your second in command, the one who’d been closest to Kid through the fight. “Killer?!”

“Something’s up with Kid!” Killer shouted, also taking cover. “We took the bastard down but he got one last hit in. That’s when Kid started acting weird!” You took a chance and looked out from around the wall you’d ducked behind to see Kid’s face was completely unreadable but the overwhelming need for destruction and violence was suffocating. You’d experienced Kid at his angriest but this was something else entirely. Normally he’d get lost in the fight and yell but it unnerved you to hear nothing from him and see his usually burning gaze dulled and darkened. This wasn’t Kid. This wasn’t your Kid. Licking your dry lips, you tightened your hands into fists and wordlessly caught Killer’s attention once more. Silently you both seemed to have the same thought. With a firm nod you both broke out from your covers and acted.

Kid’s head was throbbing and his vision blurred as it slowly began to sharpen again. This felt like the world’s worst hangover combined with being hit with a full Marine ship. His limbs all but screamed in agony and he couldn’t shake the ringing in his ears. Dully he could make out the muffled yells of someone calling his name. In whoosh, his hearing snapped back to normal as Killer bellowed out his name. “Kid! Snap out of it before you kill them, please!” 

Looking over he saw Killer pinned against the wall, his blades magnetised to the surface and stopping him from breaking free. Confused about why his power would restrain his best friend he quickly broke it, watching Killer drop to his ground. The second he was free, Killer sped across the distance and barrelled hard into his Captain in the hopes of releasing his metal hand. Only now did Kid recall Killer’s yell and he looked down to see you lying at his feet. Horror filled Kid as he saw you bloodied and unconscious, your body being squeezed in his bulked metal hand. Immediately he let go of you and staggered back. No, this couldn’t be happening. How did this happen?

Through you time recovering Kid kept his distance. At first while you were unconscious and he knew you’d be okay with time he’d tried to force himself to act like this hadn’t affected him. The crew had reassured him that he wasn't to blame for any of it and on the outside he’d agreed but that first night when he went to check on your still sleeping form he all but broke down. Of what he could see of your body was flared with dark purple and your face was twisted in discomfort. Everyone in the ship had suffered horrible injuries in the past, that was nothing new and to be expected. As much as he tried to find reason behind it and use his bravado to seem like the same old Kid, he felt sick to his stomach at his actions. The guilt was unbearable and he couldn’t bring himself to be near you and was secretly glad you’d been put on the strictest bed rest until you were given a full all clear. Kid had planned to use that time to get his head on straight. Sadly it never came. 

Every night since that day he hurt you he was plagued with nightmares. Some just filled with the sight of your body crushed by his hand. Others took the already painful experience further and twisted it to the point he’d dreamt he’d killed you. The end was always the same, he’d wake with a gasp and drenched in a cold sweat unable to breathe. One night after waking from the nightmare he jumped at the sound of a knock at his door. Slowly he rose and opened the door only to freeze to see you standing there. “Y-you should be in bed. You’re still healing.”

“If anyone needs healing it’s you.” You told him softly, your eyes scanning his haunted expression sadly. When Kid opened his mouth to argue, you held up a hand to stop him, immediately he shut his mouth. You stepped into Kids room and took his hand in yours, leading him to his bed and making him lie down before you settled into the space beside him, curling up and settling your hand on his chest. Before you’d gotten hurt it wasn’t rare for you and Kid to nap together on the deck when the mornings were slow so you were both used to this position, even if being in his bed at night made things more intimate. Still you felt how tense he was and sighed. “What’s done is done and if I knew how this would have gone…I’d still have done what I did to try and save you. I only regret how much this is eating you up. Just focus on my breathing, Kid. I’m still alive. I’m here with you.”

“That nearly wasn’t the case. I almost killed you.” Kid felt the panic claw at his chest, this was the first time he’d spoken the words. The first time he’d spoken to you since…”I’m so sorry.”

“Shhh. Just sleep. You’ll feel better in the morning.” Your voice was as warm as always, no hint of hatred for him in your tone. Reluctantly Kid settled his arm around you and closed his eyes, falling into the best night’s sleep he’d had in a long while with no more nightmares to haunt him.

——————————————-

TAG LIST (If I’ve missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773, @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @sanemisnonexistenteyebrow , @fiery-captain-spider-santa @kabloswrld , @atanukileaf , @ane5e , @stuckinthewrongworld , @deathsmajestysworld , @cloudysunset04 , @extremely-ashtridic , @decayingpizza , @liesatemyocean , @ace-for-ace , @nerium-lil , @destynelseclipsa

[satureja13]

After dinner, the Boys walked over to the Campeggio 'Fattoria di Lama' (= Camsite 'Old Llama Farm'). The nights at Tartosa are still warm and they look forward to their stay here.

Jack noticed that Sai looked worriedly over to the Castle, where they are supposed to meet Ms Coombes and athena tomorrow afternoon. And where they'll have to discuss the loan for their school fees... Jack: "Hey, let's leave the worries for Tomorrow Afternoon Saiwa, hm? It's been a while since we've been here. Let's not taint it with our problems." Saiwa sighed. Jack is right. He shouldn't dim their mood after such a great day, now that they are all happy together again. Uhhh - maybe he can cuddle with Jeb later in their tent! Sai quickened his pace.

The Boys, the Little Goats and Skully gathered by the fire. Jack started the Tartosa Playlist and Skully sang along. But quietly, to not wake the Little Goats and Kumo, who already fell asleep.

Jack was hungry - again - and started to roast some Veggie Dogs. Vlad never tasted roasted marshmallows before, since he only learned he can eat real food January this year, so Ji Ho shyly showed him how to do it. They are still far from not being awkward around each other. And it doesn't make it easier they can feel through the Bond how the other feels. None of them wants the other to feel pressured and they want to take it slow. Now, they can finally be together, they want the whole package. Getting to know each other, date... They kissed and woohoed already many times before, but it will all be new for Ji Ho, now that he has his feelings back. And new for Vlad, now that Ji Ho is finally able to love him.

After Jack munched his third Veggie Dog, Jack and Kiyoshi stood up. Jeb: "Are you going to sleep already?" Jack: "No, since we only have one bathroom here and it's late, my good mate Kiyoshi and I are going to start with showering and brushing teeth so we all get ready before bedtime. It's quicker when we go together and share the bath." Jeb: "Ah, I see." Sai didn't really listen because he was so excited to spend the night with Jeb <3 And poor Ji Ho burned his mouth, the marshmallow was too hot...

Then it dawned on Sai: "What? You are showering together? I told you we are not going to go down that road again!" Jack: "Tch. What a dirty mind you have. We are mates, Sai, just mates."

Sai calmed down eventually. If Jack and Kiyoshi can take a shower together, Jeb and him can do that all the more!

Meanwhile, in the bathroom. Jack tried to comb through his hair with his fingers and his hand soon became sandy and sticky. He turned and looked in the mirror to catch a view on the back of his head and he saw his tangled strands. Jack: "Gods - how am I supposed to get all that sand and kelp out of my hair?!"

Kiyoshi: "Don't worry, I'm going to give you a hand." And then he pulled Jack into the steaming shower. Jack: "Aouwww, you're a true mate!"

Kiyoshi tried to entangle Jack's strands and remove the sticky kelp. Jack howled: "Ouch! Go easy on me!" Kiyoshi drew back: "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm going to use more produce... I'll be careful."

The open bathroom is right next to the fireplace and the others heard a bottle click open and a squeeze. And then Kiyoshi slicking his hands... Kiyoshi: "Come closer and bend down a bit - then it's easier." Jack: "Like so?" Kiyoshi: "Ah, yes. Exactly like so."

Sai: "Do we really want to allow this - eh... mateship of them? What if Jack goes crazy again? I'll never forget the night he had that nightmare and I will never forget when we had to fear for his life when he fell in that coma when he was about to kill Kiyoshi."

Vlad remembered just too well. Jack is his best friend and he doesn't want him to get hurt again. But he also remembered how Kiyoshi was by his side when he watched over Jack - lying in that pod to keep him alive. And how afraid Kiyoshi was to lose Jack. Jeb pulled them out of their gloomy thoughts: "Kiyoshi won't let Jack get hurt again. He learned his part. And Jack prospered, a lot. They are honest to each other now and care for each other." Our little, naive Ji Ho: "They are mates, just mates."

Jack moaned as Kiyoshi scrubbed his scalp: "Mmmmh - your hands are magic, Kiyoshi..." A little later. Kiyoshi: "Gods, Jack, you have sand everywhere!" Jack squealed and laughed: "That tickles!"

Finally they finished! Jack looked at Kiyoshi in the mirror and he liked what he saw. He couldn't help to admire Kiyoshi. How beautiful he was. You can totally do that as mates. There's nothing wrong with it. Jack: "I'm glad it's you." Kiyoshi: "Are you happy?" Jack: "So happy. You?" Kiyoshi: "Same."

After Jack and Kiyoshi returned to the fireplace, Vlad went alone to the shower and then Ji Ho. No need to rush things. They are going to take their time and slowly approximate to each other. And cherish each and every moment. In their own pace. Sai whereas can't wait to finally lose his virginity! He wiggled on his chair, now it's Jeb and his turn to hit the shower. Jeb: "I let you go first. It's an important day tomorrow." Saiwa blinked: "Eh, thank you..." Sai stood up like in trance and shuffled to the shower. Jeb does not want to shower with him... That reminds him of last year when they were in the same situation right here at the campsite! Argh. Nothing changed!

And when Sai returned, Jeb went to the bathroom. Vlad was still sitting by the fire. They didn't talk and sat quiet for a while. Vlad and Sai share a deep friendship that needs no words and they can sit in silence comfortably. Sai was just planning how he was going to seduce Jeb later in their tent when Vlad called: "Night, Jeb! Take good care of Ji Ho!" Jeb: "Night, you two! Will do!"

What was that? Jeb taking care of Ji Ho? Sai: "Are you not going to share a tent with Ji Ho?" Vlad: "Gods, no. It's too early. When I lie next to him I can't help myself and think about how beautiful he is and how much I want him." Sai: "And?" Vlad: "The Bond, Sai. He can feel what I feel. Not what I think, of course. But he would feel my arousal, for example. I don't want to frighten him off. We're just at the beginning. And we're going home tomorrow. Means, Ji Ho and I are going to need our strength to teleport the TukTuk and it's going to drain us. And he will get travelsick again. I don't want to stress him further." Sure, Sai knows all that about their Bond - but he never thought about how exhausting this must be, and embarrassing ö.Ö' And then it clicked. If Jeb shares a tent with Ji Ho - Jeb is not going to share a tent with him! Argh! It's even worse than last year!

And Skully sang:

'Noi, senza dignità, oltre la montagna scopriamo l'amore. Qui, qui senza falsità, noi ci amiamo come la mente non sa. Noi, senza dignità, oltre la montagna scopriamo l'amore. Qui, qui senza falsità, noi ci amiamo come la.

'Without dignity, we find love beyond the mountains. Here, here without falsehood we love each other in a manner not known by the mind.'

Una Notte Speziale - Alice

Until Sai screamed at him to finally shut up...

From the Beginning 🔱 Underwater Love 🔱 Latest

Current Chapter: 'Here comes the Sun' from the beginning ▶️ here Last Chapter: 'Who killed Jack?' from the beginning ▶️ here

📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 23-28

[angorwhosebabyisthis]

i think one of the things that upsets me the most about velma and shaggy's relationship in sdmi--and boy there is a lot--is that not only is her constantly ''correcting'' him for minor, harmless, and usually completely reasonable things with physical and emotional abuse, well. abusive by itself. but so many of the things he does that she treats him that way over are very autistic things, and what she subjects him to is textbook abuse aimed at autistics in particular. (including the part where she gets more and more pissed whenever attempts at said emotional abuse fly over his head, because he's too bad at picking up cues for them to land fully.)

[cws: anti-autistic ableism, ABA, self-harm, physical and emotional IPV, victim-blaming, and abuse apologism. it's a lot and it's really fucking bad lmao]

-

like. there's a lot of examples there; shaggy's behavior coming across as autistic is worth a whole post of its own, and a lot of media depicts abuse targeted at autistic traits because ✨️hooray ableism.✨️but she straight up tries to Fix Him (read: force him to perform a Presentable Personality) by forcing him to wear clothes that are sensory hell, and trying to condition him to self-harm every time he does some small harmless, reflexive thing she thinks is Poor Socialization until he stops. and to catch himself doing it, and punish himself, without being prompted. i cannot fucking overstate how fucked up that is.

they even got down the fun little aspect of ABA where the methods of conditioning-through-pain are presented as toys and kiddish things: she gives him a rubber band to wear on his wrist, and tells him to snap it as hard as he can every time he says 'like.' 🙃🙃🙃🙃

like. this does not begin to scratch the surface of the abuse she puts him through in general. and again, characters being abused for autistic traits with the approval of the narrative is a common thing in media, which sucks. but holy fucking shit! they really took the 'violent ableism that is done to autistics irl' to the next fucking level here!

.......and it's portrayed as kind of cringey, immature teen drama on both sides. the self-harm, his dread over how much he knows it'll hurt, and the extreme pain it causes him to the point of screaming are all supposed to be funny. and her arc is all about learning to accept that she deserves better, because she was repressed and had low self-esteem and therefore putting him through fucking DIY ABA didn't make her happy.

🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃

anyway if you couldn't tell i can't fucking stand sdmi velma and i have a lot of words in me about it. when one of your main heroes would have made a way more compelling villain as they are, on a more mundane level compared to all the wild fantastical shit they go up against, holy shit go back to the drawing board you have fucked up. she could have been genuinely good representation of a marginalized person dealing with the trauma of her experiences in some shitty ways she has to grow past, and an interesting flawed character, without being absolutely despicable--hell, she'd have made a great foil to pericles if they'd handled him decently too. they have a lot of parallels, which only gain more depth when you add their respective parallels with cassidy into the mix. and it really fucking sucks that we got this instead.

[casuallychat]

So I didn't get to see S2 until today and I'd previously seen half a spoiler that Aziraphael died?! And then I hit block on all spoilers and went about my day. But then I sat down today to binge the entire season clutching my pearls the entire time, thinking of how Aziraphael would meet his end. And then the season (and what a lovely season it was) was all about how much Crowley loves his angel and I was fully expecting the ending to rip my heart out if Aziraphael died. But the ending?? The actual ending?? How about you feed me poison, it'd be less painful? Wow, give us everything and then give us NOTHING? IT TOOK ME 30 MINUTES TO GET THROUGH A 5 MINUTE SCENE BECAUSE I KEPT STOPPING IT. MY HANDS WERE SHAKING! I TEARED UP! AZIRAPHAEL, BABY, NO, WHAT ARE YOU DOING??

That is to say, the season was amazing, I'm planning a full rewatch of both seasons and a reread, and I plan to consume an unholy amount of fanfic for this. Neil Gaiman is a king, I won't accept criticism.

[phoenixcatch7]

The problem I'm having with one of my stories is that it is compelling - but not clicking.

It's a sephiroth gets reincarnated into mdzs. Straightforward. I've got several branching paths: lwj, jc, nmj (my personal fave) and the jade twins (one mind in two bodies). All five of them have great potential, but for some reason my heart is set on sephiroth!lwj, because the aesthetic is sublime.

But! It's! Not! Working!

My main problems are a) despite similar surfaces, sephiroth has fundamentally different morals and life experiences to lwj and lwjs morals are a huge part of his and wwx's stories. B) I can't NOT have wangxian. I don't ship often at all, but when I do I'm pretty set on it lol. I don't want to deny soulmates. Unfortunately I HATE writing romance. C) I do not think sephiroth should be in any sort of romantic relationship at all nor can I see him wanting one. I've read tons of fics where he is in relationships (healthy or otherwise) and they're amazing, yes, but... Under my pen it's just not in the cards. And I do feel pairing him with wwx would just amplify wwx's worst traits, which is the opposite of what lwj does for him.

Everything's in conflict, but the lure of sephiroths second childhood in strict gusu and his complicated feelings about it, wwx being a perfect mix of all his important people with a spine of steel and righteousness that they all lost as everything fell apart, the relationship between sephiroth and his new mother, and how he'd inexplicably lose her too, the white on white aesthetic, the older identical brother, the cruel angels aesthetic with the benevolent demon, the angst of wwx's defection and death, his relationship with qi as a planet's overflowing life force, the tragedy of the mourning angel, monster x monster.... It calls to me.

But there's also the way wwx becoming a demonic cultivator was so vital to winning the war, and the way that affected things, gave him a legitimacy. Involve the silver soldier, and well. Everything else becomes a little extraneous lol. And sephiroth himself is such a big mover and shaker, I don't know what I could do to manage that without wiping out 80% of the remaining jianghu after the burial mounds siege with sephiroth appointing himself king lmao. He's not the kind of person to make small ripples, you know?

And I'd love a twin jades au to sort of turn the chaos inwards a bit (nmj and jgy would be Excellent foils) but again, I can't separate wangxian and imagining scenes feels a bit too close to incest for my tastes, even when it's ONE PERSON in identical bodies!

It's frustrating, wanting to write a non romance fic set in a love story lol. I just. I hate writing romance. But wangxian just don't want to be parted.

But the image of lwj in the xuanwu cave secretly covering a feverish wwx with his wing, only to notice a handful of white feathers pushing through the black as he unknowingly becomes a better person through showing care for other people, shaking his own deep belief that he is a horrible irredeemable creature incapable of love. Caught in an act of love. Hnggh.

Any ideas?!

[candyskiez]

so do you spiral into rage whenever you realize the person who got you seconds away from killing yourself is moving on with their life when somedays you still feel like you're stuck in that moment that fucking traumatized you and how unfair it is that they get to move on when you almost ended it all over them or do you not have a deep seated fear that you jave no effect on the people aroujd you

[lyrefromthesea]

How would the hashira react if we accidentally pushed him off the bed while sleeping?

Male hashira x Reader - It's OUR bed

pairing: Tengen x Reader, Obanai x reader, Rengoku x reader, Sanemi x reader, Giyuu x reader, Gyomei x reader

content warning: none

Tengen:

• he wakes up before he even hits the ground. did you just push him down? he immediately checked, but realizes you aren't awake.

• with a quiet scoff, which turned into an even more quiet laugh, he stands up and takes his original place in bed again.

• to make sure that you're not pushing him down another time, he wraps his arm around you, pulling you close enough to nearly use him as a bed instead.

Obanai:

• he hits the ground and nearly panics. if you pushed him out of the bed in your sleep, then maybe you subconsciously didn't like having him close.

• he's quick to disregard that thought, because you quietly stirred next to him, as if you couldn't sleep without him.

• when he finally takes his place in bed again, he lets his fingers brush against yours, wanting to have contact with you. he feels his heart swell when you wrap your arms around his and press it against your body.

Rengoku:

• falls out of the bed and stares at the ceiling with his big owl eyes. he sits up straight in a matter of seconds, asking what just happened.

• though he didn't want that to happen, he accidently wakes you up. seeing you yawn and rub your eyes, he stands up to comfort you into slumber again.

• he'll hold you close to his chest, so you can fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat.

Sanemi:

• he lands on the ground face first, his hand still clinging onto your arm. the reflex that usually was there to protect you, took you down with him this time.

• the air got knocked out of his lungs after you fell on top of him, letting out a quiet groan. the man turned his face to the side, grumbling in his tired voice, while he felt you get up.

• he's too tired to even talk about it, letting himself fall into bed again and pulling you with him. he ends up falling asleep on top of you, your cheek squished against the top of his head.

Giyuu:

• he sleeps on his side, when you accidently pushed him down the bed, it made him fall onto his back pretty hard. it normally wouldn't have bugged him, he was a hashira and knew how to handle pain. unfortunately, his muscles ached after the fall, because he had landed rather unlucky.

• he won't say anything or wake you up, because he doesn't want to disturb your sleep. expect for the quiet grunt leaving him, he makes sure to keep absolute silence and hold you close again.

• when you see him feel unwell the next day and ask what's wrong, he'll explain it to you. "why didn't you say anything, i would've helped immediately!" he fell silent, his cheeks flushing. he had been too shy to ask for your help.

Gyomei:

• he was sleeping on the edge of the bed to begin with. it wasn't your fault when you turned and bumped against him, making the man fall down the bed.

• he opens his eyes slowly, hands feeling the ground under him, eventually brushing against the blanket that was hanging down the bed.

• it didn't hurt and it was clearly an accident, he didn't see any reason to talk about it. instead he stands up again, makes sure that you sleep in a proper position and puts a protective arm around you.

• you may never know what happened, but that didn't disturb him. he loved you after all.

[ponderingmoonlight]

How kny men treat their pregnant wife

Pairings: Obanai x fem!reader; Rengoku x fem!reader; Sanemi x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,5k

Warnings: I went absolutely insane in Sanemi's part lmao, let me know what you think about maybe even more kny complilations in the future?🤍🫶

Obanai – super overprotective

„Darling, you really don’t have to be cautious all the time. I’m fine and it’s mid-day.”

“You never know”, the man next to you mumbles while positioning himself in front of you.

Since the day Obanai found out that you’re expecting your very first child, he never left your side. Not even at night, when he’s usually out fulfilling his duty as a hashira. And if he must go, he always makes sure that you’re not alone.

“I really don’t want to bother you, but Iguro-san sent me here to keep an eye open for you”, Mitsuri explained with reddened cheeks after appearing in front of your door at sunset.

You sign to yourself with a small smile crawling up your face. You never really realized that your husband is so eager to have a child. When the two of you first met, he acted so cold towards you that you were convinced he hated you after saving your life in your village back then. It wasn’t until he showed up at the butterfly estate on a random day and handed you a bouquet of flowers that you realized how hard you fell for that man yourself. Despite his cool and composed walls, despite always staying in the background and leaving disgracing comments from time to time. You really learned how to love the serpent hashira for the man he is: kind, loving, protective and smart.

“Why are you not coming over to cuddle me instead?”, you suggest oh so sweetly while opening your arms as an invitation.

Obanai side-eyes you up and down, his mind visibly racing behind those gorgeous eyes.

“But what if I hurt you and the baby?”, he mutters, still standing his ground.

“I’m not made of paper and the baby isn’t as well. And also, I’m carving nothing more than a hug from my husband at the moment.”

Slowly but surely, he finally turns around. As if you’re made of porcelain, he wraps his arms around you oh so gently. Have you ever seen your husband this cautious and sensitive around other human beings? You’ve seen the way he beats up the other corps members in his training sessions on a daily basis. A giggle escapes your lips before you’re able to stop it. Your man really turned soft due to this pregnancy.

“What’s so funny?”, he grumbles, his vibrant eyes set on you.

“You’re too hesitant to give me a real hug and yet, you’re beating up innocent kids during training. Come on now, I said I want a real hug!”

Before he’s able to protest, you press yourself against him with full force, allow your head to rest against his beating heart. It’s been ages since he last cuddled you the way you always loved it. With your body resting on top of his and your arms wrapped around his broad chest, everything starts to feel like home.

“Don’t you think that’s too dangerous? The baby-“

“The baby will be fine. I can handle a tight hug, darling. I really missed this…”

He shifts his weight underneath you and gently starts rubbing your back. Oh, how much you adore your husband and those sweet little moments between both of you. You never imagined to love someone like this, to fall head over heels for a man who is the complete opposite of yourself. But here you are, falling even harder day by day.

“And…you really think this is safe?”

“I’m absolutely sure it is!”

Obanai pauses for a moment, his eyes almost piercing through you.

“I think you should go and see Shinobu later”, he finally presses out.

“Come on, I already told you-“

“This doesn’t feel safe at all. We’re leaving in just a few minutes”, he continues while wrapping his arms around you.

Rengoku – the proudest soon-to-be dad

“I made you breakfast, my love!”, your husband announces while entering your shared bedroom in his plain white kimono.

“You’re way too kind, Kyojuro. You know I could have done it myself”, you reply while lifting yourself off the futon.

“Oh, let me help you up!”

Gently, he grabs your shoulders and helps you to get up. With your swollen belly, things aren’t as easy as they used to be. By now, you aren’t even able to see your feet anymore.

But it’s all worth it. He’s all worth it.

“Look at you”, he mutters with unusual low voice.

When his hand starts caressing your belly along with that loving gleam in his eyes, you almost forget how to breathe. From the day both of you found out that you are expecting a child, Kyojuro fell head over heels.

“You look so breathtakingly good, my everything. I could stand here and stare at you all day, little flame.”

It almost seems as if Kyojuro’s already heavy feelings doubled during your pregnancy. Not a single hour goes by without him telling you how gorgeous you look, that you are an angel walking on earth.

Even though you know you gained a few pounds and how swollen your face looks. He doesn’t care about the fact that sometimes, you are too exhausted to wash your hair or that you didn’t dress in something nice since your clothes started to get too tight.

Your husband adores each and every fiber of your being.

“Stop, you’re making me blush”, you giggle while playfully freeing yourself out of his strong arms.

“I’ll never stop telling my pregnant wife how gorgeous she looks! How are you feeling, my love?”

You find yourself trapped in his arms with his eyes all over you again. God, will you ever get tired of looking at him, of seeing those vibrant eyes?

“I’m okay. I just feel a little heavy.”

“I’m so proud of you for enduring all of this. Shinobu already told me this pregnancy doesn’t go easy on your body. You’re a real fighter, (y/n)!”

“A fighter? My body is supposed to do this. There’s nothing special about that”, you try to brush his praise off, cheeks already turning dark red.

“Don’t think about it that way. Your body might be equipped for a pregnancy, but Shinobu informed me about all the things you have to endure and how painful and tiring it can be-“

“Did Shinobu really explain all those things to you?”, you mutter through your hands that cover your face in sheer embarrassment.

“Of course! After all, I’m your husband and it’s my duty to support you in the best way possible!”, his beaming voice replies proudly.

“And I can’t wait to meet our little wonder.”

The second he gets on his knees, you see stars. Oh so gently, he pulls your kimono to the side and starts caressing and kissing your womb. Your knees threaten to fail you, feelings all over the place. God, you really don’t deserve a loving and caring husband like him, you don’t deserve all those feelings he holds for you and your unborn baby so openly.

Before you’re able to stop yourself, a violent sob escapes your lips.

“No love, why are you crying?”

Kyojuro meets you eye to eye in an instant, his hand carrying away every little tear that threatens to stain your face.

“It’s just…You are too kind…I don’t deserve your praise…”, you croak out.

“You deserve this and so much more. Now come on, I made you mochis with the receipt Kanroji taught me…”

You sniffle uncontrollably in his arms.

Wait, did he just say…

“You mean my favorite mochis?”, you mutter.

“Of course, little flame!”

“Oh…Then…Maybe we should get going, then…”

Sanemi – doesn’t even know yet

Fuck fuck fuck.

You stare at Shinobu in sheer horror. This can’t be true. Definitely a mistake. A cruel joke, maybe.

You…pregnant?

“Tell me you’re joking”, you mutter under your breath.

Just when you thought things between Sanemi and you started to get better, than you finally managed to live besides. Calling yourself his wife was never easy, especially due to the fact that he only married you because your family literally sold you to him in exchange for not killing you right on the spot. The two of you never seemed to get along that well.

You swallow hard. That night was an exception. You came home drunk, you didn’t know what you were doing when you seduced him, when you began babbling about something as stupid as feelings.

You swore to yourself that you’ll never fall for your husband. And now you’re expecting his child.

“I’d never joke about something like that, (y/n). It seems like somehow, you managed to get pregnant”, Shinobu replies in all seriousness while taking off her gloves.

Fuck.

“He’ll fucking kill me”, you mumble to yourself.

“Maybe he’ll skin me before that, slice open my belly like a fish-“

“Can you just stop?”, Shinobu interrupts you in all urgency.

“Shinazugawa might not be the most empathic man walking on this earth, but he also didn’t marry you for nothing. I’m sure everything will be fi-“

“Absolutely nothing’s fine. I’m fucking screwed”, you huff in frustration while yanking up.

You’re completely fucked. There’s no way in hell Sanemi will ever find out about this, not in this lifetime. You have to make sure that this stays a secret.

“Don’t you dare to tell him a single word about this, got it?”, you literally threaten Shinobu with your shaky finger pointing at her.

You, expecting a baby.

From Sanemi Shinazugawa.

Without even waiting for her reply, you storm out. Are you able to get rid of this situation? Mindlessly, you rub your belly when a new wave of memories from that fateful night hits you.

“I might l-love you”, you blurted into the room, Sanemi’s widened eyes staring at you in sheer horror.

“You…love me? Just yesterday, you told me how much you hate me”, he clarified with harsh voice.

“Are you drunk, (y/n)?”

“I…might be, yeah. But I mean it.”

Against all voices that begged you to stop, you darted towards him.

Until you sat on top of him and wrapped your longing arms around his neck.

“I love u, Sanemi.”

“I can’t believe a single word you say, shithead.”

“Watch me, then.”

It happened so fast you still can’t believe it. One passionate kiss, your hands wandering underneath his uniform, his muscular frame on top of you.

“You really want this?”, he huffed against your cheek, usual so maniac orbs filled with nothing but pure lust.

“Yeah”, you breathed out.

Urgh. You dig your nails into your hair, head spinning instantly. What kind of fuckery is this? Your first night ever and now…you’re pregnant? As if things between you and him aren’t already cringe enough.

“Why are you looking like shit?”

His oh so familiar voice makes your guts turn. For the split of a second, you are literally one movement away from puking all over his feet.

“Why are you talking shit?”, you spit at him, shoulder bumping against his as you try to get away from here as soon as possible.

But Sanemi grabs your wrist before you’re even able to think about your escape.

“Why were you at Shinobu’s? You never visit her.”

“I’m not feeling well”, you jeer at him.

“You even refused talking to her when your bone splatted out of your damn leg. Don’t fuck with me, (y/n). You didn’t come here for nothing.”

“Yeah, I really shouldn’t have done that”, you snap, violently ripping away your wrist.

This is way too much. Your family, Sanemi, that damned pregnancy. You thought this hell trip was over when Sanemi somehow managed to accept you, you really thought you could leave a rather peaceful life.

God, what a fucking fool you are.

“Hey, what the hell is going on? (y/n)!”

Just before your knees hit the ground, you feel Sanemi’s strong arms lifting you back up.

“What the hell has gotten into you!?”

“I’m pregnant!”, you scream on top of your lungs.

“All of this because of that damned night, because I lost my fucking control. I’m pregnant…”

Sanemi’s arms around you tense up immediately. Fuck, you can’t even bring yourself to look at him.

Truth is, you love that man. Fuck, you fell for him harder than you ever imagined, so badly that you can’t stop thinking about him. And that night, you allowed yourself to get a taste of him. After all, maybe this was all you need to finally forget about him, right?

What a fool you are.

“You’re…what?”

Violently you rub away the tear that starts rolling down your cheek.

“You’re…pregnant…”

“Saying it again and again won’t make it disappear”, you bark at him.

“I’ll be a dad?”

Huh? What is that unusual tone in his voice. Did Sanemi Shinazugawa really sound…joyful?

“Yeah…”, you mutter.

In the split of a second, you find yourself devoured in his arms and captivated by his glossy eyes. Your heart skips a beat, mind not able to follow the scene that lays itself out in front of your eyes. He doesn’t look angry at all, not even sad. No, he looks as happy as you’ve never seen him before.

“I can’t believe it. I never imagined this to happen”, he whispers while grabbing your face.

“Gosh, let me kiss you.”

“You want to kiss me?”, you shriek.

Despite your growing feelings for the wind hashira and those countless secret looks you’ve shared with each other, it was always a quiet agreement between both of you to never express any feelings. No hugs, no kisses, no questions. Just living side by side. Fuck, you never even allowed yourself to even gaze at his lips before that fateful night.

And now you’re lying in his arms, pregnant while he asks for a kiss.

“I mean…yeah”, you finally breathe out.

And then his lips crush against yours. Longingly, passionately, filled with so many emotions that you fail to breathe. All this time, you tried so desperately to hate that man, to hide your feelings from him in order to protect yourself. But all it took was a single night and that unexpected pregnancy to make you realize that maybe, allowing yourself to discover your own feelings isn’t that bad, after all.

Maybe, everything will in fact turn out alright.

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