#i want to base the arena off the one in catching fire

[theangrypomeranian]

been thinking about my Barryl Hunger Games AU again

[03jyh23]

🌏⌇atlas┆song mingi

│part of goes to waste the series based on my favourite keshi songs

│listen here

rapper!mingi x non-celebrity!reader

│synopsis: in the heart of bustling seoul, you and mingi shared a luxurious penthouse apartment. despite the grandeur, loneliness consumed you as mingi's skyrocketing fame distanced him from the loving boyfriend you once knew.

│genre: lovers to strangers, angst

│trigger warnings:  heartbreak (obviously), mature language, mention of past trauma and pain

│words: 8.9 k

│playlist: empty box an album by song mingi, tracklist: after hours, too late, killing me (english), wait, paranoid, drunk, lonely heart, empty box (english)

│reminder: what you’re about to read is purely fiction, so let’s keep it separate from reality.

!minors do not interact!

— hi there! finally, here's the next part of goes to waste series. i had to take some time off after publishing 2soon (check it if you haven't yet), which was a truly personal piece, but now i'm back! atlas is very loosely inspired by the song; it's more about the vibe the song gave me than the actual lyrics. i also changed the original synopsis quite a bit because i honestly didn't feel like sticking with the first version. same as with 2soon, i spent some time creating a playlist, and if you do decide to listen, i hope you enjoy the songs i've chosen. oh! and if you read through my small author notes, then you're lucky because i can finally reveal that both the reaper (jongho) and right here (yeosang) will be published as a mini-series (but only after finishing finding our way back)!

love, monika ♡

i’d be so grateful for a little love – a tagged reblog or comment would truly make my day!

│taglist: @skittyneos │@kyeos4ng │ @vcutparis │@hoeforalbedo

You were sitting on a bed in the bedroom you shared with Mingi in your very own luxurious penthouse apartment in the bustling center of Seoul. It hasn't been long since you moved in here, but the vastness and elegance of the place made you feel even lonelier than ever. Mingi was out, performing at a sold-out arena show, and the glaring reality was that you weren't there to support him. It wasn't that you didn't want to attend; the painful truth was that he simply forgot to invite you—his girlfriend of the last 4 years, someone who had stood by his side through thick and thin. You looked at the floor, your eyes catching the sight of your suitcases and bags packed meticulously with your belongings, ready to move out of this once cherished home. The thing was, you couldn't quite leave without seeing Mingi one last time. Your heart ached at the thought of parting without a final goodbye, and it didn't let you go. You didn't know life without Mingi, and the prospect left you shit scared. The very thought of navigating through your days without his presence was enough to send shivers down your spine. However, you couldn't pretend any longer that Mingi hasn't changed. The boy you once fell in love with, who was caring, attentive, and always made you feel like the center of his universe, seemed to have vanished. In his place was someone distant, preoccupied, and seemingly indifferent to your feelings. You tried to rationalize his behavior, blaming it on the stress of his career and the constant pressure he was under, but deep down, you knew it was more than that. The connection you once shared felt like a distant memory, and the reality of who he had become was impossible to ignore. 

It all started not even a year ago. Mingi's song went viral on the internet, and he gained a massive following in a span of three days. From being an independent artist playing in clubs for maybe a couple of hundred fans, he went straight to signing a contract with a major company, making huge checks and selling out arenas in a span of minutes. The transformation was almost surreal. One day, you were cheering him on from small, dimly lit venues where you could see the sweat on his brow and the fire in his eyes as he performed. The next, he was being whisked away to luxurious studios and high-profile meetings with industry moguls. It felt like you were living in a dream—or a nightmare, depending on the moment. Suddenly, the simplicity of your shared life was replaced by a whirlwind of glitz and glamour. Mingi's phone never stopped buzzing with calls, texts, and notifications. Invitations to exclusive parties, collaborations with big names, and interviews with top media outlets flooded in. While his career skyrocketed, your relationship seemed to plummet into an abyss of neglect and misunderstanding. As he became more entrenched in his new world, you noticed changes in him. The boy who once couldn't wait to spend a quiet night in, watching movies with you was now constantly on the go, his calendar filled with events that didn't include you. The intimate conversations you used to have, were replaced by strained, hurried phone calls and text messages that felt more like obligations than genuine connections. Despite your best efforts to be supportive and understanding, the growing distance between you became an insurmountable chasm. Mingi's success had come at a steep price, and it felt like you were the one paying for it. The man you had known and loved for years was slowly slipping away, replaced by someone who seemed more like a stranger with each passing day. 

The night was getting later, and there was still no sign of Mingi. Maybe he wasn't planning to come back today; maybe he was too busy with his new rapper friends to even care to come back. You couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment and frustration. You glanced at your phone, hoping for a message or a missed call, but there was nothing. Well, it wouldn't be the first time he had left you waiting, feeling like an afterthought in his increasingly busy life. You tried to occupy yourself, turning on the TV and flipping through channels, but nothing could distract you. The boy who once couldn't stand to be away from you was now someone who seemed to have forgotten you existed.  

With every passing minute, the reality of your situation became clearer. Mingi might not come back tonight, tomorrow, or even the day after that. He was out there, living his life, while you were stuck in a place that no longer felt like home. You still vividly remember your first day in this apartment; it was a momentous occasion. Mingi had received his significant check from the tour ticket sales, as well as the royalties, just a week passed since, and you were moving into the luxurious space. The excitement and anticipation were palpable as you both looked forward to starting this new chapter in your lives together. You left your one-bedroom apartment with a tingle of sadness, each corner filled with cherished memories of the life you had built together. However, the excitement and anticipation of creating a new home in a spacious, luxurious penthouse overshadowed any melancholy you felt. You both dreamed of this moment, envisioning a future filled with endless possibilities and new adventures. The thought of decorating the new place, hosting friends, and building new memories brought a sense of joy and hope. It was a new chapter, a fresh start, and despite the nostalgia for your old apartment, the promise of what lay ahead made the transition feel like the beginning of something wonderful. So, you never thought you would be leaving this place like this. Heartbroken. The walls that once echoed with laughter and joy now felt cold and distant. Every corner of the penthouse, which had been a symbol of Mingi’s dreams and aspirations, now seemed to mock your pain. The spacious rooms that once brought a sense of freedom now felt like a labyrinth of sorrow. You recalled the countless evenings spent planning your future together, the whispered promises of forever, and the dreams you had woven into the very fabric of this home. Now, those dreams lay shattered, scattered like fragile pieces of glass. The weight of your decision to leave pressed heavily on your chest, making it difficult to breathe. You never imagined that the place which once brought you so much happiness would be the same place you'd have to walk away from. 

You promised yourself you wouldn't wait longer than 3 AM, and as the hour approached, you picked up all your belongings and took them to the hallway. Each step felt heavier than the last, the weight of your decision sinking in deeper with every passing second. You glanced once again across the apartment, taking in the memories etched into every corner of the space that once felt like a loving home. With a heavy heart, you left your keys on the kitchen counter. As you put your shoes on, you paused for a moment, feeling the finality of your actions. You were ready to turn off the lights and walk out of the door, the silence of the apartment echoing your own sense of abandonment. Just as you reached for the switch, the doors opened with a soft creak that seemed to reverberate through the entire space. 

There stood Mingi, his face pale and eyes wide with a mixture of shock and disbelief, as if he had seen a ghost. His presence, so unexpected and surreal in that moment, made your heart skip a beat. The silence between you was deafening, filled with the weight of unspoken words and unresolved emotions. For a split second, neither of you moved, as if frozen in time. 

"What is going on?" he asked, his eyes finding your gaze as he swallowed hard. 

You took a deep breath, feeling a lump form in your throat. "I can't do this anymore," you replied, your voice trembling. 

His expression shifted from confusion to concern. "What do you mean? What are you talking about?" 

"I mean us, Mingi. I'm not even a part of your life anymore," you said, tears welling up in your eyes. "I packed my bags. I'm leaving." 

Mingi's eyes widened in shock, and he took a step closer. "Leaving? No baby, you can't just leave." 

You shook your head, feeling the weight of the decision pressing down on you. "I deserve more than this. I'm done. We're done," you said, almost out of breath, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and sorrow. 

Mingi's face contorted with emotion, his eyes pleading as he reached out to you. "Please, let's talk about this," he said, desperation lacing his voice. 

You looked at him, your heart breaking all over again. "It's too late, Mingi," you responded, trying to keep your resolve strong even as tears streamed down your face. "I'm so sick of pretending everything's alright, that you haven't changed," you continued, your frustration bubbling to the surface. 

Mingi stepped closer, his hands reaching for yours, desperation evident in his voice. "What are you talking about? I'm still the same, I’m still your boyfriend who would do anything for you." 

You took a deep breath, your voice trembling as you confronted him. "Are you even aware my birthday was a week ago and you haven't showed up to the party?" 

Mingi's face fell, a look of guilt and realization washing over him. "I... I didn't know. I'm so sorry," he stammered, but the damage was already done. 

"So no, Mingi, you are not the same. My boyfriend would show up to my birthday party, hell he would organize it himself. And you know what you did that night? You were sitting in a fucking club with your fellow rappers doing God knows what," you spat, the pain in your words cutting through the air. "My boyfriend loved me, he wanted to spend time with me, he cherished me, he would never leave without kissing me and telling me he loves me," you said, your voice cracking. "You are not him." 

Mingi's shoulders slumped, the weight of his actions finally seeming to hit him. "I messed up. I know I did, and I'm so sorry," he whispered, his voice cracking. 

‘’Sorry is not enough,’ you took a deep breath, your eyes filling with tears. "I'm so sick and tired of justifying your shitty behavior in front of my parents, our friends, and most definitely myself. Every time they ask me where you are or why you're not around, I must come up with excuses. It's exhausting, and honestly, I'm tired of lying for you." 

Mingi's eyes filled with tears, his voice breaking as he whispered, "I never wanted to let you down. I know I've been distant, but I never stopped loving you." 

You shook your head, "You don’t love me, Mingi. Actions speak louder than words, and your actions have clearly shown me where I stand in your life. When was the last time you took me out, huh? When was the last time you asked me how I was doing? When was the last time you made love to me, not just fucked me after your show, huh?" you demanded, each question hitting him like a blow. 

Mingi's face crumpled as he absorbed your words. "I didn't realize... I thought you understood how busy I've been," he mumbled, his voice tinged with regret. 

"Busy? We all have busy lives. But love means making time, no matter what," you said, wiping away your tears. "I can't keep waiting for you to remember that." 

Mingi's tears began to flow freely, his voice barely a whisper. "Please, don't go. I promise I'll change, I'll make things right," he pleaded, but you could see the doubt in his eyes. 

"Since you went viral, you haven't even taken me to your shows, to the afterparties. I don't know your new friends. Do they know about me?" you asked, your voice rising with each word. Mingi's hesitation spoke volumes, and you felt another crack in your already shattered heart. "That's what I thought," you murmured, more to yourself than to him. "If they don't know about me, then maybe you don't want them to. Maybe that's why it's easier for you to forget I exist." 

Mingi's eyes widened, realization dawning on him. "No, it's not like that," he tried to argue, but the conviction in his voice was gone. The silence between you grew heavier, filled with all the things left unsaid over the past months. 

"Tell me honestly, now. You're rapping about fucking bitches and maybe that's really what you're doing in those clubs, huh?" you spat, the accusation hanging heavily in the air. 

Mingi's face paled, his eyes wide with shock and hurt. "How could you even accuse me of that?" he asked, his voice trembling with a mixture of anger and pain. "I would never do something like that to you. You mean everything to me." he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. He took a step closer, desperation in his eyes. "I swear, it's not what you think. Those lyrics, they're just part of the persona. They don't mean anything." 

You let out a bitter laugh, the sound echoing through the silent apartment. "Is that supposed to make me feel better? That it's all just an act? Because it doesn't. It just makes me feel like I don't even know who you are anymore," you retorted, your voice trembling with emotion. "You spend all your time with these people, living this life that I'm not a part of. How am I supposed to believe you when you say it's not real?" 

Mingi's shoulders slumped, the weight of your words pressing down on him. "I know I've made mistakes. I know I've been distant, but I never wanted to hurt you. I thought you understood how much pressure I'm under," he said, his voice cracking. 

"Being under pressure doesn't give you the right to treat me like I don't matter," you shot back, wiping away the tears from your rosy cheeks. "You used to make me feel like I was the most important person in the world. Now, I feel like I'm just another obligation, something you can push aside when it suits you." 

Mingi's eyes lit up with a sudden realization. "Please give me a moment, I know what will make you stay," he said, his voice filled with a newfound sense of urgency. Before you could respond, he turned and rushed towards the bedroom. You stood there, your heart pounding in your chest as you listened to the sounds of Mingi frantically ruffling through drawers and opening cabinets. The noise grew louder, punctuated by the occasional clatter of objects being moved aside. After what felt like an eternity, Mingi emerged from the bedroom, his face flushed and his breath heavy. Clutched tightly in his hand was a small, elegant box. He walked towards you, his eyes never leaving yours, and with shaking hands, he opened the box to reveal a stunning, custom-made Tiffany engagement ring. 

"This... this is what I was waiting for," he said, his voice trembling with emotion. "I wanted everything to be perfect before I asked you. I know I've messed up, but please, give me one more chance. I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you." Tears welled up in his eyes as he held the ring out to you, his entire being pleading for forgiveness and another chance. You stared at the ring, the weight of the moment pressing down on you as you tried to process everything. Mingi took a deep breath and then, in one fluid motion, he dropped to one knee, holding the ring up towards you. His eyes were filled with desperation and hope, the tears streaming down his face reflecting the sincerity of his words. "Y/N please, marry me," he whispered, his voice breaking. "I know I've been distant, and I know I've hurt you, but I want to make it right. I want to spend the rest of my life making it up to you, showing you how much you mean to me. Please, give me another chance." You stood there, your heart pounding in your chest as you looked down at Mingi, the man you had loved for so long, now kneeling before you with a ring in his hand. The future you have always dreamed of was right there in front of you, and you cried harder at the sight. The ring, a symbol of the life you had envisioned together, glittered in the dim light of the penthouse. It was everything you had ever wanted, yet the weight of the disappointments and heartbreaks made it difficult to embrace. The tears streamed down your face, mixing with the raw emotions that had been building up inside you. You couldn't help but think of all the broken promises, the lonely nights, and the feeling of being forgotten. The ring was beautiful, but it couldn't erase the pain that had accumulated over time. 

Mingi kneeled there in front of you, his eyes filled with a mixture of hope and desperation, waiting for your response."Now we have enough money to book the beach venue you dreamed of," Mingi started, trying to control his own tears. "I will order you a custom dress from the designer you told me about, inspired by the Disney princess you loved since you were little," he added, his voice trembling with desperation. "And we will go to Belize for our honeymoon," he continued, his words coming out in a rush. "We will rent a whole house by the beach, just like you always wanted. Every morning, we'll wake up to the sound of the waves, and every night, we'll fall asleep under the stars. There won't be a single day when I won't prove to you how much I love you," Mingi's voice cracked, his eyes pleading. "Please, give me another chance. Please marry me. I promise I'll be the man you fell in love with, the one who would move heaven and earth just to see you smile. We’ll make new memories, beautiful ones that will overshadow all the pain I’ve put you through. I swear, I'll spend every moment making it up to you, showing you that my love is real and unwavering. So please, please say yes." The image he painted was truly everything you ever wanted, the plans you made together on countless nights, dreaming of a future filled with love and happiness. The beach venue, the custom dress, the honeymoon in Belize—all of it was exactly what you had envisioned. It was as if he had taken every whispered wish, every secret hope, and turned them into a tangible reality. His words, filled with desperation and promise, tugged at your heartstrings, making you yearn for the life you had once believed was possible. The thought of waking up to the sound of waves, falling asleep under the stars, and creating new, beautiful memories was almost too tempting to resist. In that moment, you saw a glimpse of the life you had always wanted. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath as you tried to steady your racing heart. The weight of the moment felt almost suffocating, but you knew you had to make a choice. When you opened your eyes again, you looked at Mingi, your voice barely above a whisper, 

"I can't," you choked out, your voice barely above a whisper. The words felt like shards of glass slicing through the air. You saw the hope in Mingi's eyes flicker and fade, replaced by a look of utter devastation. His shoulders slumped as he dropped completely to the floor, the ring slipping from his grasp and falling to the floor with a loud echo. You heard him cry out in agony, and it broke your heart all over again, shattering it completely. For a moment, the silence was deafening, filled only with the sound of your ragged breaths and Mingi's soft sobs. You stood there, frozen, the weight of your decision pressing down on you like a physical force. Every fiber of your being wanted to rush to him, to take back the words and make everything alright, but you knew deep down that it was too late. 

Mingi's tears flowed freely now, his face a portrait of anguish. "Please, don't go," he pleaded, his voice raw with desperation. "I need you. I don't know what I'll do without you." 

"I'm so sorry, Mingi," you said, your voice trembling as you took a step back. "I wish things could be different, but I can't keep living like this." 

Mingi looked up at you, his eyes red and swollen with tears. "Please, don't leave me," he pleaded, his voice cracking with desperation. "I can't lose you. I'll do anything to make it right, I swear." 

You shook your head, "It's not about what you can do, Mingi. It's about what you haven't done." With a heavy heart, you turned towards the door, picking up your bags. Each step felt like a thousand, the weight of your decision making it almost unbearable to move. As you reached the door, you paused, looking back at Mingi one last time. The sight of him, broken and pleading, was almost too much to bear. "Goodbye, Mingi," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "I hope you come across something more than better, something that brings you true happiness and fulfillment. And I’m so sorry it’s not me." With those final words, you turned the knob and stepped out into the hallway, closing the door softly behind you. The echo of the door click reverberated through the empty penthouse, a stark reminder of what you were leaving behind. 

eight months later

It was a Saturday evening, and you were lying in your bed, scrolling through TV channels because apparently your best friend forgot to pay for your Netflix subscription. These past months, you were figuring your life out from the base. With your breakup, everything changed. You were now living in a small apartment, shared with two of your friends to make the rent cheaper. You hadn't saved up much while being with Mingi, mainly taking part-time jobs to be available whenever Mingi needed your help with his career—booking a venue, simply helping around with scanning tickets or delivering merch. You used to spend your days running errands and managing small tasks that kept his career afloat, and in return, he assured you that you didn't need to worry about your own income. Then, when the money came, he simply wouldn’t let you work, claiming what was his was yours, and he had more than enough. His generosity was comforting, but it also left you unprepared for the financial independence you now had to face. So apart from dealing with the heartbreak, you’ve also been struggling a bit with a reality without him. 

Now, as you lay in your small bedroom, you couldn't help but reflect on how drastically your life had shifted. The luxurious apartment you once shared with Mingi was now a distant memory, replaced by this compact space that you now called home. It was filled with laughter and companionship from your two friends, but it also served as a constant reminder of Mingi’s absence. 

The breakup had not only shattered your heart but also forced you to reevaluate your priorities and rebuild your life from scratch. Every day was a struggle to find your footing, to rediscover who you were without Mingi, and to carve out a path for yourself. Despite the challenges, you were slowly learning to embrace this new reality, one step at a time. 

After a long search, you finally stumbled upon a music award show where a band you liked was performing, and you found yourself intrigued. A few other performances passed; the MC announced they would reveal the winner for the Album of the Year in the rap category. Despite trying to ignore all updates about Mingi, you knew he had released a new album earlier this year, so seeing him being nominated didn’t surprise you. You couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions as his name was mentioned. You saw him through your TV screen, his hair now cut short and dyed a vibrant pink, a stark contrast to his previous look. His nose was pierced, and you must admit it made him look even hotter. He was wearing a sleek black blazer with nothing underneath, the simplicity of his outfit highlighting his confidence. He looked absolutely gorgeous, his features as handsome as ever, capturing your attention completely. You couldn’t help but smile, a wave of nostalgia and admiration washing over you. Your heart began to beat faster with the excitement and joy of seeing him again. 

And of course, Mingi won. You didn’t know exactly why, but you couldn’t help yourself—you clapped your hands enthusiastically. You were so incredibly proud of him and his achievement. With a wide smile on his face, he stood up from his seat, took a deep breath, and confidently hopped on stage. He walked over to the microphone, adjusted it to his height, and paused for a moment to gather his thoughts. "Thank you, everyone," Mingi began, his voice steady but filled with emotion. "This album means the world to me, and it wouldn't have been possible without the incredible team behind me and the fans who have supported me through everything." He paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. "I want to dedicate this award to someone very special to me, someone who was with me since my early days." Mingi's words hung in the air, and you felt a lump form in your throat. You knew he was talking about you. The memories of your time together, the sacrifices you made, and the dreams you shared all came rushing back. Despite the pain and heartbreak, a part of you was deeply touched by his acknowledgment. He continued, "I know I've made mistakes, and I've hurt the only person I have ever loved. But this album represents a journey of growth and redemption. It's about learning from those mistakes and becoming a better person." The audience applauded, but your mind was elsewhere, lost in the whirlwind of emotions Mingi's speech had stirred within you. You couldn't help but wonder if he truly had changed, if he had finally realized the impact of his actions. As the applause died down, Mingi took a step back, holding the award close to his chest. He looked directly into the camera, his eyes seemingly searching for yours through the screen. "You know," Mingi continues, "this special person told me that since I gained popularity, I’ve been only rapping about fucking bitches, and she hated that." Mingi smiled and looked at the award in his hands. "So, with this album, I came back to my roots, to lyrics that truly mattered and reflect who I am." As the applause echoed around him, Mingi took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his words and the emotions they carried. He remembered the countless nights he spent writing, the struggles he faced, and the moments of doubt. "I don’t know where she’s at now, what she’s doing," he paused, running a hand through his hair, his eyes filled with regret "I wanted to be a man and respect her decision to leave me, so I never reached out." His voice cracked, the weight of his words sinking in "Because the truth is she deserves way better than me." He swallowed hard, his eyes glistening with unshed tears "I don’t even know if this will reach her, but if it does, I just want her to know that I still, very much love her." A tear finally escaped, rolling down his cheek "And that life without her is shit." He took a deep breath, his voice barely a whisper. He glanced around, seeing familiar faces of fellow artists and friends who knew his story then he looked straight at the camera. "So, to my ex, to the one I prayed to end up with, thank you for breaking my heart. This one is for you." He raised his award and bowed. As he left the stage, you couldn't help but feel a surge of mixed emotions. The love you once shared was still there, buried beneath the pain and heartbreak, but his words made you wonder if there might still be a chance for redemption and healing. You sat there, stunned and overwhelmed, tears streaming down your face. The raw emotion in Mingi's speech had reopened old wounds, but it also made you question if there was a possibility for a new beginning. 

Too caught up in your thoughts, you didn't notice when the cameras started to broadcast live from backstage. An elegant reporter, dressed in a chic green dress, stood waiting with a microphone in hand. Her eyes sparkled with anticipation as she spotted Mingi approaching, clutching his award tightly. She greeted him with a warm smile and a nod, gesturing for him to join her on a plush, cream-colored couch set up for the interview. As Mingi took his seat next to her, the reporter's smile widened. "Congratulations, Mingi, on your incredible win tonight!" she began, her voice smooth and professional. "How does it feel to take home the Album of the Year award?" 

Mingi took a deep breath, trying to steady his emotions. "It feels surreal," he admitted, his voice slightly hoarse from the whirlwind of emotions he had experienced on stage. "This album was a labor of love and a journey of self-discovery. Winning this award means the world to me." 

The reporter nodded; her expression empathetic. "You've mentioned that this album, Empty Box, holds a lot of personal significance. Can you tell us more about the inspiration behind it?" 

"The title of the album, Empty Box, symbolizes a metaphorical space where I have placed all the love I couldn’t give, oh god I hate to call her that but, to my ex-girlfriend." Mingi's eyes welled up with tears, and he swallowed hard. "It encompasses not just the love, but also our unfulfilled dreams, the cherished memories we created together, and the mistakes we made along the way." He paused, taking a moment to gather his thoughts, his emotions visibly overwhelming him. This album reflects my journey, regrets, and lessons I've learned. Each song is a chapter of that story, a piece of my heart that I hope resonates with those who listen." He took a deep breath, his voice cracking as he continued, "I wanted to create something that speaks to the pain of losing someone you love, the guilt of not being able to give them what they deserve, and the hope that maybe, just maybe, we can all find a way to heal from our past mistakes." Mingi's eyes were filled with a mix of sorrow and determination as he spoke, his words carrying the weight of his emotions. He looked directly into the camera, his eyes searching for a connection with those who might be watching. "To anyone out there who feels like they've messed up, like they've lost their way, I want you to know that you're not alone. We all make mistakes, we all have regrets, but that doesn't mean we can't find a way to move forward. This album is my way of reaching out, of saying that it's okay to feel broken, it's okay to struggle, but it's also okay to hope for a better tomorrow." 

The reporter nodded, her eyes reflecting the depth of Mingi's words. "Thank you for sharing such a personal journey with us, Mingi. Your honesty and vulnerability are truly inspiring." She paused for a moment, letting his words resonate with the audience. "What's next for you? Are there any upcoming projects or plans you'd like to share?" 

Mingi took a deep breath, a small smile breaking through his tear-streaked face. "Right now, I just want to take some time to reflect and reconnect with myself. But I promise, there's more music to come, and I hope to continue growing both as an artist and as a person." 

The reporter's eyes sparkled with curiosity as she leaned in slightly. "Is this album some type of closure for you? Are you ready to go out there and find love again? I bet there's plenty of girls, or guys who would die to have a chance with you." 

Mingi took a moment to reflect, his eyes distant. "In many ways, this album has been therapeutic for me. It's allowed me to process my emotions and come to terms with my past. As for finding love again, I think it's important for me to focus on healing and personal growth first. Love is a beautiful thing, but it requires a strong foundation." 

The reporter nodded, her smile warm and understanding. "Thank you for your honesty, Mingi. Your journey is truly inspiring, and I'm sure your fans appreciate your openness." 

Mingi smiled back, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. "Thank you. I'm grateful for the support." With that, the interview concluded, and Mingi stood up, shaking the reporter's hand before walking away. As the camera panned out, you turned off the TV, your mind racing with thoughts and emotions. And you knew you needed to see him again. You've been staying strong since you left him, but now, the wall crashed down and you couldn't stop your racing heart, you couldn't prioritize your mind screaming at you not to do it. The memories of your time together flooded back with an overwhelming force, each one more vivid than the last. The late-night conversations, the shared dreams, the laughter, and even the fights—they all played in your mind like an old movie reel. Despite the pain and the heartbreak, you couldn't deny the love you still felt for him, a love that had been buried but never truly extinguished. Your emotions were a tangled mess, a mix of longing, fear, hope, and regret. You thought about the life you once envisioned with him, the future that seemed so bright and full of promise. Would it still be possible? Could you find a way to rebuild what was broken, to heal the wounds that had festered for so long? As you sat there, your heart pounding in your chest, you knew that you couldn't ignore these feelings. It was as if something was pushing you towards him, giving you a nudge to take a step towards reconciliation. The thought of seeing him again both terrified and excited you, but you knew that you had to follow your heart. With trembling hands, you picked up your phone and stared at the screen, your mind racing with a thousand thoughts. Should you call him? Text him? Show up at his door? You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves, and made your decision. You were going to see him. 

You run to your closet, your heart racing with anticipation and anxiety. You put on a hoodie as the autumn air was getting colder, layered a denim jacket on top for extra warmth, and decided to go. Living on the opposite side of the city now, getting to Mingi's place would take more than an hour, but you didn't mind the long journey. As you left your room, one of your roommates looked at you, her eyes filled with curiosity. 

"So, I guess you heard the speech?" she asked, a knowing smile playing on her lips. You could feel the pride welling up inside you, making you even more determined to reach Mingi and share your feelings with him. 

"Yeah, I did," you replied, your voice trembling with emotion. "I need to see him." 

"Honey, I know you want to, but don't forget why you left him in the first place," she said gently, her eyes filled with concern. "You were heartbroken and exhausted. It took so much strength for you to walk away and start rebuilding your life." She paused, her expression softening. "I understand that his speech stirred up a lot of emotions, but please, think carefully about this. Remember all the nights you cried yourself to sleep, all the broken promises. Just don't lose sight of why you made the decision to leave. You deserve to be happy and to find someone who truly values and respects you." 

You nodded, taking her words to heart. "I know, and I won't forget. But I need to know if things can be different now. It's just, I am so proud of him, and I just wish he knew that" you whispered to your roommate, your voice filled with a mix of hope and determination. Your roommate, who had been silently listening, came closer, her eyes reflecting concern and empathy. "I know we've been through so much, and the pain was unbearable at times. But seeing him up there, pouring his heart out, made me realize that a part of me still cares deeply for him. I can't ignore these feelings. I spent so many nights crying myself to sleep, feeling hurt and abandoned, but maybe he's changed. Maybe he's truly learned from his mistakes. I need to see for myself if there's a chance for us to rebuild what we once had, to heal together and find a way back to each other." 

Your friend reached out, gently squeezing your hand, her touch offering a silent reassurance. Her eyes softened as she spoke, "I understand why you feel this way. It's not easy to let go of someone you love, especially when there's still a part of you that believes in him. But you need to be sure that he's really changed, that he's willing to put in the effort to make things right this time." 

You nodded, feeling a lump form in your throat. "I just wish he understood that despite everything, I don't hold any grudges. I want him to know that I forgive him and that I'm willing to give him another chance if he's ready to make things right." Your voice trembled slightly, the weight of your emotions making it difficult to speak. 

Your roommate gave you a warm, encouraging smile. "You have a big heart, and it's clear that you still care about him deeply. Just make sure you protect yourself too. If he's really changed, he'll show you through his actions, not just words. Take it one step at a time and trust your instincts. You deserve to be happy, and if giving him another chance feels right to you, then follow your heart." Her words offered a sense of comfort and clarity, helping to ease the turmoil inside you. You took a deep breath, feeling a renewed sense of hope. 

"Thank you," you said, your voice filled with gratitude. "I need to do this for myself, to know if there's still a chance for us." With that, you hugged your best friend and stepped out into the autumn night. 

The journey to Mingi's place felt like an eternity, each passing moment filled with a mixture of anticipation and fear. As the bus drew closer to his building, you couldn't help but feel a surge of doubt. What if this was a mistake? What if you were setting yourself up for more heartache? But the memory of Mingi's heartfelt speech and the love you still felt for him pushed you forward. 

When you finally arrived, you stood outside his door, taking a deep breath to steady your nerves. With a trembling hand, you knocked, the sound echoing through the hallway. To your surprise, the door is opened by an elderly man, dressed in an elegant suit. His eyes widen in surprise as he sees you standing there. "Good evening, sir," you say hesitantly, trying to mask your confusion. "I’m sorry for the late visit but I'm here to see Mingi. Is he already back?" The man's expression shifts from surprise to bewilderment. 

"I'm sorry," he replies, his voice carrying a hint of confusion. "But I believe you have the wrong address. Nobody by the name of Mingi lives here." He looks at you sympathetically, as if trying to help you figure out your mistake. 

Your heart sank, and you felt a wave of confusion wash over you. "But this was his address," you murmured, feeling lost. 

The elderly man gave you a kind smile, "I moved in here few months ago, maybe he was a previous owner of this apartment?" 

Your heart sank even further as you realized that Mingi had moved. "Thank you," you said softly, turning away from the door, feeling a mix of disappointment and confusion. As you walked back to the bus stop, the doubt began to creep in again. Maybe meeting with him would be a mistake? The universe seemed to be throwing obstacles in your path, as if trying to tell you something. Perhaps it was a sign that some things are better left in the past, that moving forward meant leaving certain chapters closed. You couldn't help but think about all the reasons you left in the first place, the pain and the heartbreak that led you to this very moment. Was it worth reopening old wounds for a chance that things might be different? As you boarded the bus, you decided to give it one last shot, you took your phone out. You scrolled through your contacts and found Mingi's number, your finger hovering over the call button. Taking a deep breath, you pressed it and held the phone to your ear, your heart pounding as it began to ring. After a few moments, you heard a familiar message on the other end, "The number you have dialed no longer exists." 

The automated message echoed in your ear, a stark reminder of the distance that now separated you from Mingi. You pulled the phone away, staring at the screen in disbelief. How could it be? You had been so certain that reaching out to him was the right thing to do, but now, it felt like the universe was conspiring against you. You tried calling again, but the same message played, confirming that Mingi's number had indeed been disconnected. A sense of finality washed over you, making the reality of the situation sink in even deeper. It felt as if a door had been firmly closed, leaving you standing on the outside, unable to reach the person you once held so dear. As you sat back on the bus, the city lights blurring past the window, you couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions. Disappointment, sadness, and a lingering sense of what could have been. The memories of your time together replayed in your mind, each one a bittersweet reminder of the love you had lost. Deep down, you knew that this might be the universe's way of telling you to let go, to move forward with your life. With a heavy heart, you put your phone away and leaned back in your seat, taking a deep breath. As the bus continued its route, you gazed out at the city, the lights flickering like distant stars.  

six months later

You just started your shift; the day was going to be long and tiring. With holidays fast approaching, people were buzzing to buy new goods. You were working as a manager in one of the luxury shopping centers, a position that demanded a great deal of patience and resilience. The opulence of the surroundings was a stark contrast to the stress that came with the job. The elegant displays and high-end brands attracted a clientele that was demanding and often indifferent to the staff's efforts. Managing a team in such an environment was no small feat. You had to ensure that everything ran smoothly, from inventory management to customer service. The rich customers, with their endless requests and high expectations, often tested the limits of your endurance. They seemed to suck the life out of you, leaving you drained by the end of the day. Yet, you couldn't afford to show any signs of fatigue. Your role required you to maintain a calm and composed demeanor, addressing complaints with a smile and ensuring that every shopper left satisfied. The holiday season only amplified the challenges. The influx of customers meant longer hours and heightened pressure. Each day felt like a marathon, with waves of shoppers flooding in, eager to make their purchases. The store was a hive of activity, with sales associates rushing to assist customers, restock shelves, and manage transactions. Amidst the chaos, you had to keep a watchful eye, ready to step in whenever issues arose. 

You were on your way to the staff area to take a break for lunch, feeling exhausted from the busy morning shift. The holiday rush had turned the shopping center into a whirlwind of activity, and you were grateful for a brief break. Just as you were about to reach the staff area, one of your co-workers called out your name. You rolled your eyes, already anticipating another request or issue that needed your immediate attention. With a deep breath, you turned to face her, trying to mask your frustration with a polite smile. 

"I'm really sorry to bother you, but we have a situation that requires your expertise. There's a particularly demanding customer, and the supervisor has tried everything but just can't seem to handle it. She asked me to find you because we really need your help with this. Would you mind stepping in to assist? I know you're on your way to lunch, but it would mean a lot to us." 

You sighed internally, knowing that this was part of the job. "Alright, lead the way," you replied, forcing a reassuring smile. Following your co-worker, you mentally prepared yourself for yet another challenging interaction, hoping that it wouldn't take too long so you could finally enjoy your much-needed break. 

She led you to one of the private dressing rooms. From a distance, you could hear a female voice demanding something from her, you supposed, boyfriend. "Oh baby, what do you think about this one?" you heard as you approached the door. Your heart skipped a beat when you recognized the voice that responded—it was Mingi. You stopped in your tracks, your mind racing. The reality of seeing him again, and with someone new, hit you like a ton of bricks. But you took a deep breath, steadied yourself, and pushed forward, opening the door to the dressing room. Inside, you saw Mingi standing next to a woman who was examining herself in the mirror, holding up an elegant dress. The room was filled with an awkward tension as Mingi's eyes met yours. For a moment, time seemed to stand still, the memories of your past flooding back with a vivid intensity. 

Mingi's expression shifted from surprise to a mix of emotions—confusion, regret, and perhaps a hint of longing. The woman, oblivious to the charged atmosphere, continued to admire herself in the mirror, adjusting the dress and waiting for Mingi's opinion. 

You felt like the air was taken out of your lungs. He was here, standing before you, after so much time had passed. Memories of your time together flooded back, each one more vivid and overwhelming than the last. You had to swallow hard and clench your fist to keep the act up, to maintain your composure in front of him and his new girlfriend. The mix of emotions inside you—shock, longing, regret—threatened to break through, but you knew you had to stay professional. This was your job, your life now, and you couldn't let the past disrupt it. "Excuse me madam, I’m a manager here," you said, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside. "Is there anything I can assist you with?" 

"Oh yes, we've been looking forward to buying the limited-edition shoes from the new collection," she said, her eyes lighting up with excitement. 

You took a deep breath at her words, trying to maintain your professionalism. "I'm really sorry to inform you about this, as my coworker already told you, madam, the shoes I believe you are referring to are only available for special order." 

Her enthusiasm faltered slightly, replaced by a look of disappointment. "Special order? Is there any way we can place one now?" 

"Unfortunately, the special-order period for those shoes has already ended," you explained gently. "They were available for a limited time, and we are currently out of stock. However, we do have a selection of other exclusive items that might interest you." 

You caught Mingi's eyes boring into you, his face pale and expression frozen. He stood still, as if rooted to the spot, and he seemed to not even breathe. The intensity of his gaze sent a wave of emotions crashing over you, each one more overwhelming than the last. You felt your eyes watering, a rush of emotions threatening to spill over. You blinked quickly, trying to get rid of the tears and maintain your composure. This was neither the time nor the place to let your feelings show, but the sight of him, so close yet so distant, made it nearly impossible to hold back the tide of emotions. 

The girl in front of you sighed, clearly disheartened by the news. Mingi, sensing her disappointment, placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "It's all right," he said softly. "Let's take a look at what else they have. I'm sure you can find something you'll love." 

She turned to you with a sharp expression, her tone shifting to one of impatience. "Do you even know who my boyfriend is?’’ 

You swallowed hard, forcing a polite smile despite the tension. "Yes, madam, I'm well aware. Please allow me to show you some other exclusive items that might catch your interest."  

"Baby, won't you do something about it?" She once again turned to Mingi, her voice carrying a hint of frustration, but his eyes never left yours, the unspoken words hanging heavily in the air between you. 

Mingi shifted uncomfortably, his eyes meeting his girlfriend for a brief moment before he turned to you again. "I'll see what I can do," he said softly, trying to soothe her. 

You took a deep breath, gathering your professionalism. "As I mentioned earlier, the special-order period has ended, and we are out of stock for the limited-edition shoes. However, if you'd like, I can take your contact information and notify you if any new limited editions become available in the future." 

The woman sighed, clearly not satisfied, but nodded reluctantly. "Fine, let's do that then." She handed you her information, and you quickly jotted it down, aware of Mingi's gaze still lingering on you. 

"Thank you for your understanding," you said, handing back her details. "Is there anything else I can assist you with today?" 

She shook her head, her disappointment evident. "No, that's all. Come on, baby, let's go." As they turned to leave, Mingi hesitated for a moment, his eyes locking with yours one last time. You could see the unspoken words and the regret in his gaze, you silently hoped he would say something, anything. You gave him a small, professional nod, and without a word, he turned away, following his girlfriend out of the dressing room. Once they were gone, you let out a breath you hadn't realized you were holding. 

You realized that the man you loved was no more. Instead, you met with someone who wore his face, who had his voice. Someone who was a stranger. The warmth that once radiated from his eyes was now replaced by an unfamiliar coldness. It was as if time had reshaped him into a different person, one that you could no longer recognize. The memories of your past seemed like a cruel illusion, a reminder of what once was and what could never be again. You realized with a heavy heart that the essence of the man you fell in love with had faded, leaving behind a mere shadow of who he used to be. 

Don't talk to strangers, they say, or you might fall in love. And when that love fades, those familiar faces turn into strangers once more. The irony of it all stung deeply. The very person who once knew you inside and out had become an enigma, a puzzle with pieces that no longer fit. As you watched him walk away, hand in hand with someone new, you couldn't help but feel a profound sense of loss. The man you once knew, the man you once loved, was gone. And in his place stood a stranger who bore his likeness but none of the familiarity. 

The journey of love had taken you full circle, bringing you back to a place of solitude and reflection. The lessons learned were etched deeply into your soul, a testament to the transient nature of relationships. You couldn't help but wonder if you would ever recognize that familiar face again, or if he would forever remain a stranger, a fleeting memory in the tapestry of your life. 

[thgfanfictionlibrary]

Never Hijacked!Peeta Fics Masterlist (2)

Part 1 / 

Created: April 25th, 2024

Checked:---

Always-LiterallyEverlarksChild (ao3) Summary: In the Quarter Quell arena, Katniss realizes she loves Peeta. When a non-hijacked Peeta is rescued from the Capitol, they get to be together and stuff.

And hands intertwine (bodies fit together)-snails_n_brokenbones (ao3) Summary: Hopefully he'll let her in, let her break down their walls brick by brick, together as limbs blend into one under the harsh hospital light. She wants him in a way she's never wanted before. She needs him in a way that feels so familiar and yet so foreign. She needs him. She loves him. Tragically and beautifully, she's in love with Peeta Mellark and she can't escape it.

Check Mark Kiss-VanillaCottonCandy (ao3)

Summary: A thick, red, angry line, splayed right in the middle of Peeta’s chest. It stands out vividly against his pale skin and blonde chest hair and I can’t look away from it now. “What’s this?” He looks at the wall behind my head for a long moment before nodding. “That’s from a whip.” He meets my gaze again before casting his eyes low. “I don’t remember what I did to earn it.” / Katniss learns more about what they did to Peeta in the Capitol and sets out to try and make him better. Non - Hijacked Peeta AU. Sequel to Haunted Heart.

found the place to rest my head-loveleee (ao3)

Summary: I can tell the moment he sees me through the glass wall; his eyes widen and he sits up straighter. He stands just as I burst through the door. And then I’m in his arms. And then I break down. [Mockingjay AU, Peeta is rescued from the Capitol unharmed. Follow up to "hold me, hold me (never let me go)".]

Haunted Heart-VanillaCottonCandy (ao3) Summary: “One of the doctors steps away to grab something off the cart beside the bed and Peeta’s blue eyes — the bluest, tenderest and most haunted gaze I’ve ever seen — take me in for the first time. For the first time since that last night in the Quell. And I can’t hold myself back any longer.” / Based on the prompt : “i’d love one of everlark’s reunion in mockingjay if peeta hadn’t been hijacked (OR of their reunion if katniss had been captured instead, but still not hijacked).”

Not Going Anywhere-sweetlovegone (ao3)

Summary: "Before I can really register the events of the past minute, I feel those strong steady arms that guarded me from the nightmares wrap around me and hold me as tight as possible." Oneshot. Mockingjay Reunion if Peeta hadn't been hijacked.

Say That Again-FreshlyCutGrass (ao3) Summary: “Hey, Kat,” Peeta croaked. His voice was thick and achy, like he had a sore throat. Haymitch’s hand darted down my back to keep me from toppling over, keeping me steady as I shook. “Say that again,” I whispered, blinking rapidly as I took in the sight of him. ------------- Peeta is not hijacked when he is rescued from the Capitol and brought to District 13. Katniss advocated for him faster. The reunion we all wanted, including Katniss.

The Both of Us-LemonLuvGirl (ao3)

Summary: An alternate ending to Catching Fire in which both Peeta and Katniss are rescued from the arena during the Quarter Quell. Our lips collide with gentle urgency, two half conscious minds struggling in the murky waters between sleeping and waking, layered with a need for comfort and something more. We kiss until he pulls back, panting, angling his hips away from mine. I know what he’s trying to avoid. He doesn’t want to scare me. But the thought of his body reacting to me isn’t nearly as scary as the idea that we almost never got to have this.

Together-THGEncyclopedia (ao3) Summary: My take on how things could have gone differently had both Katniss and Peeta been rescued from the Quell. The two will conquer the Capitol and unravel the secrecy of District 13 as a couple, and will together be the faces of the revolution. This can definitely be called a "fix-it" FanFiction, even though I love how the series ended originally. It will switch POVs between Katniss and Peeta, but not in any established pattern.

You Put Your Arms Around Me and I'm Home-mrsbonniemellark (ao3)

Summary: What would happen if Peeta hadn't been hijacked and Katniss and Peeta were allowed a private reunion?

[hamsterclaw]

The world is burning, and Jimin's struggling to find meaning in anything, until he meets Namjoon.

Pairing: Jimin x Namjoon

Genre: mem x mem, post nuclear war apocalyptic AU

Rating: 18+

Word count: 7.4k

Warnings: Sex, swearing, mentions of blood, injury, mentions of military, PTSD

Jimin tucks and rolls, the moulded alloy of his droid armour scraping against the tarmac.

The flash of heat and light blinds and deafens him, for a few long moments he’s completely vulnerable to attack. 

He blinks, and the world comes back in a rush. 

With it, the face of his partner, creased with concern as he leans over him. He taps his visor, and as Jimin says his name, his voice filters through to Jimin’s earpiece.

‘You’re not going to die on me, are you?’ Namjoon asks, his light tone at odds with the way his eyes are fixed on Jimin’s face.

‘Not today, Joon,’ Jimin replies. He accepts Namjoon’s hand, lets Namjoon put his muscles to work hauling him up to his feet.  

‘Where’s the kraken?’ Jimin asks.

‘Took care of it,’ Namjoon says, nonchalant.

Jimin rolls his eyes. ‘I set you up for the kill.’

‘You’re good like that,’ Namjoon agrees. He’s quiet a moment, setting his co-ordinates, getting his bearings. Finally, he turns to Jimin.

‘Let’s get back.’

***

Whenever Jimin ventures out of skylock, he finds that more of the world is burning. The nuclear war was two scant years ago but it feels like a lifetime. 

The first nuclear explosion took out half of Asia, the second, North America. After that, the world was dying too fast for anyone to keep track. 

He’d been on secondment in Algeria, thirty miles west of the first skylock base. He’d been lucky.

He’d made it into skylock hours before the final explosion set the whole world on fire. 

The first person he met in skylock was Kim Namjoon, brisk, efficient and decent, even in the face of total devastation. He’d been so overwhelmed by the engineer’s kindness it had taken him a while to notice how attractive he was.

He’s facing away from Jimin now, stripping off his droid suit in the annexe. He’s lean, his shoulders and back corded with muscle.

He turns unexpectedly, brushing his hair out of his eyes. He catches Jimin staring at him.

Jimin does a terrible job of hiding his reaction, startling and dropping his visor on the concrete. 

He ducks his head.

He’d been fine facing off against the kraken, one of numerous predators that had mutated out of the nuclear war. 

It’s beyond him why he can’t handle himself with one man.

He’s just a man, even if he’s got the body of a Greek god and dimples that make Jimin’s stomach flip.

Jimin realises Namjoon’s talking.

‘Your lip’s bleeding,’ he says.

Jimin presses a finger to his lip. ‘I must have bit it,’ he mutters.

He steps out the rest of his droid suit and lines it up with the others. His hair, usually a shade long and now longer than he’s ever kept it, is matted to his forehead, covering his eyes.

Namjoon says, casual, as they both step into skylock, ‘want to eat together after we report in?’

‘Sure,’ Jimin says. 

He keeps forgetting how popular Namjoon is. They’re both by the food arena, about to enter, when they get stopped. 

‘Hey Joon, we wanted to catch up about the greenhouse,’ says Miyoung, one of the botanists. 

‘Sure,’ Namjoon says, glancing at Jimin. ‘What about ——‘

‘Why don’t you eat with us?’ asks Jae, gesturing.

Jimin smiles at Namjoon. ‘I’ll catch you later, ok?’

He ends up eating alone, taking his tray outside the foodhall to the benches that overlook the large lake in the centre of skylock. 

When he’s putting his tray back Namjoon catches up to him.

‘Hey, you should have stayed,’ Namjoon says.

Jimin looks up at Namjoon. ‘Sounds like they wanted your help.’

Namjoon had been an engineer before the world disintegrated, and whilst this skylock was stabilising  after the first nuclear bomb, he’d been pivotal in resource planning and a maintenance regime for their skylock’s many moving parts, none of which could be allowed to fail.

The atmosphere outside skylock is pure radiation, rearranging cell lines for fast spreading cancers and worse things Jimin’s never had the stomach to consider. 

To top it all off, Namjoon had also been an avid gardener as one of his many hobbies. His encyclopaedic knowledge of botany has come in useful more than once.

In a world that’s been destroyed, Namjoon is valuable in many ways.

Jimin? Not so much.

He’d joined the military out of high school, had kept going whilst he was trying to figure out his life until one day ten years later he’d realised that it was his life. 

For Jimin, there’s not much that’s familiar in skylock, the world going to shit has a way of flattening the hierarchy.

Jimin makes himself useful by volunteering for missions venturing out of skylock to gather information, collect items that haven’t been obliterated to allow them to be reverse engineered. 

There��s a limit to how many he’s allowed to do though, the medics are strict about it. It’s mainly Min Yoongi, and although Jimin will go toe to toe with anything with a pulse or a current, there’s something that makes him hesitate about challenging Min Yoongi.

The man isn’t physically intimidating but he looks like he wouldn’t hesitate to fight dirty. 

Jimin realises Namjoon’s still looking at him.

‘Sorry,’ he says, sheepish, ‘I got distracted.’

Namjoon’s dimple flashes as he smiles, the warmth in his eyes making Jimin’s own skin prickle with heat. 

‘I asked if you wanted to visit the underwater channel with me. I need to run some tests on the stucture, and I could use the company.’

‘Yeah,’ Jimin says.

‘Great. Are you free now?’

***

Jimin’s only visited the underwater channel once, he gets claustrophobic after one of the tasks he had to do in the military was crawl along a few hundred feet of underground tunnel and the sides caved in when he was mere yards from sunlight.

He’d survived, physically, but he has recurring nightmares of being trapped, choking on loose rocks and dirt, unable to call for help.

Jimin’s never had the interest to unpick his past traumas, he’s alive and the dreams are few and far between and there’s always been inanimate objects for him to take his grievances out on when he’s needed to.

He’s following Namjoon further into the channel, which thankfully is high enough that even the taller man doesn’t have to stoop. He’s staring at the breadth of Namjoon’s shoulders when Namjoon turns.

Jimin looks away too quickly, too obviously, and facepalms internally. 

‘Do you see?’ Namjoon asks, voice low, leaning closer.

Jimin swallows, hopes it’s not obvious that his mouth has gone dry at the handsome engineer’s proximity.

He’s been told a few times how good-looking he is, himself, but he’s never just relied on his looks. 

There’s something about Namjoon’s serious demeanour that stops Jimin from sharing the flirty remarks he usually gets by on.

‘Wh-what?’ asks Jimin.

Namjoon points, so close his chest brushes Jimin’s shoulder, and Jimin pleads to whatever god is in charge of this mess for composure because popping a boner right now, in the dark, with Kim Namjoon’s solid chest against him, would just be too much for him to handle.

Jimin would rather toss himself out of skylock and take his chances with the krakens.

‘That,’ Namjoon says.

This time, Jimin looks.

A gold luminous fish slips between the mud and aquatic plants. It gleams even in the low light, and it’s been so long since Jimin saw anything beautiful there’s an odd tightness in his chest.

‘It’s pretty,’ he says, hushed in his awe.

Namjoon looks like he’s about to say something but he just smiles.

‘I’m going to set up my equipment, it’ll probably take twenty minutes. If you get claustrophobic—‘

‘I’ll watch the fish,’ Jimin says. He crouches down next to the closest porthole, face next to the glass.

The bottom of the lake is dark for the most part, but there are lights under the tunnel that illuminate it just enough to see.

Namjoon watches Jimin press his face to the porthole for a moment, then he starts unpacking his things.

Jimin awakens without the sense of rising panic that he usually feels, the uptick of his heart rate that’s so unbearable he usually leaps out of bed. 

Instead he’s gradually aware of the low drone of machinery, the unyielding solidity of the ground beneath him, the gooseflesh on his skin from the coolness in the air.

Jimin opens his eyes.

Almost immediately Namjoon’s voice sounds in the dark, the warmth and timbre of it reassuring Jimin further.

‘We’re still in the tunnel. I’m almost done.’

Jimin rubs sleep from his eyes. His voice comes out husky like it does when he’s slept a while.

‘Was I out long?’ he asks.

‘Not long, half an hour,’ Namjoon says.

As Jimin’s eyes adjust to the gloom he sees the outline of Namjoon moving, packing his equipment.

‘Do you —‘ Jimin’s voice cracks. ‘Do you want help?’

‘I’m done,’ Namjoon says. ‘Don’t worry.’

It’s only when they’re back above ground that Namjoon asks, ‘Do you have nightmares?’

Jimin’s instantly self-conscious. ‘Why?’

‘You talk in your sleep,’ Namjoon replies.

‘What did I say?’

‘It sounded like military shorthand,’ Namjoon says, shrugging. He looks at Jimin. ‘I’d have woken you but you settled down.

‘I’m sorry,’ Jimin says. He hesitates. ‘I was only in active combat once, I’m really not that —-‘

‘Once is enough,’ Namjoon says. He puts his hand on Jimin’s shoulder. ‘You don’t have to talk about it. I didn’t mean it critically, I was curious.’

For some reason, Jimin can’t stand the thought that Namjoon might think he’s traumatised or damaged in any way. He’s thinking of something to say that doesn’t sound defensive when Namjoon takes his hand away.

‘Side note, you look cute when you’re sleeping,’ Namjoon says.

Jimin’s instantly ascatter. He stares at Namjoon, but Namjoon’s already walking away.

***

‘Yes, yes, Jungkook!’

Jimin waits outside Jungkook’s pod, trying not to look like he’s some sort of voyeur as Jungkook apparently fucks the living daylights out of some chick.

Ah shit, it’s Miyoung the botanist.

She emerges disheveled from Jungkook’s pod, bows demurely in Jimin’s general direction and hurries away.

Her shift is still tucked into her panties but Jimin doesn’t want to be the one to mention it and judging by the glow on her face, she probably wouldn’t care anyway.

A moment later Jungkook emerges, shirtless, his hair a mess.

‘You couldn’t save the fucking until after?’ Jimin asks, raising an eyebrow.

Jungkook snorts. ‘What after? You mean when we all die on our radiation ravaged remnant of a planet?’

The kid’s got a point.

Jungkook’s not done. 

‘Maybe if you got laid once in a while you’d be less tightly wound,’ Jungkook advises.

He takes the walkie-talkie Jimin’s holding out to him, tattooed arm a stark contrast to the plain beige of his jumpsuit.

Jimin rolls his eyes. Jungkook’s a cocky little shit, and why wouldn’t he be?

There weren’t many people who looked like him in the world before it all went to shit, much less in a skylock with barely six thousand people.

Add to that a devil may care attitude and an uncanny ability to look hot in skylock-issued beige, and Jungkook’s got it made.

Jimin would be tempted himself, if the kid wasn’t so aggressively hetero.

Once a week he and Jungkook patrol the perimeter of their section of skylock, looking for breaches, gathering information about new creatures and wildlife outside the dome to share with the scientists.

It’s a two day job usually, although lately they’ve been having to cover more and more ground as patrol teams are gradually dwindling.

People are dying in their skylock, sometimes at their own hands. 

Hope springs eternal but not in the presence of total destruction. People have given up on looking for a savior.

Which is why Jimin’s tone softens as he asks, ‘Want an energy bar?’

For all his faults, Jungkook’s so fiercely, vitally alive that Jimin finds it hard to be apathetic around him.

Jungkook accepts. 

After a moment he says, ‘I’ve had a couple people ask me about you, you know.’

Jimin concentrates on a mound of rubble just outside of the perimeter of the dome. Is it bigger than it was?

He says, unencouraging, ‘Yeah?’

Jungkook’s got the log out, starting to fill it in. ‘Yeah. I said you have a type.’

‘And what would that be?’

‘Dimples,’ Jungkook says, so innocently Jimin has to laugh. 

‘Shut up, you asshole.’

Jungkook laughs. 

‘If we weren’t stuck in this skylock there’s no way I’d ever hang out with a little shit like you,’ Jimin says, but there’s affection in his tone.

‘Please,’ scoffs Jungkook. ‘You’re littler than me.’

Jimin laughs and takes the log out of Jungkook’s hands. 

‘Give that to me, Kailash said he could barely read your writing last time.’

Jungkook shrugs. ‘Who gives a shit what I write? We’re all dying, just slow.’

Jimin pointedly crosses off the panda that Jungkook’s drawn in lieu of an observation.

‘There are other skylocks. We just need to get to them,’ Jimin says, quietly. 

‘More people, just what this dying planet needs,’ Jungkook retorts.

Jimin says, ‘The nuclear explosions didn’t touch the poles.’

Jungkook tilts his head back, towards the radioactive orange glow from the atmosphere. 

For a second Jimin has a glimpse of Jungkook how he would have looked before the world fell apart, sun on his face, grass around him, and it’s so unbearably tragic he has to look away.

For all that there are barely two years between them, Jungkook’s so young sometimes Jimin feels like there are lifetimes between them.

Jungkook blinks, and the cynicism etched in his young skin falls away. 

‘I like penguins,’ Jungkook declares, eyes bright. 

The absurdity of it makes Jimin laugh again, what else is there?

***

Jimin’s running along the lake, trying to burn off the fatigue he feels from another sleepless night.

There’s a noise behind him, and he whirls because he’s always hated being followed.

It reminds him of being hunted.

‘Sorry,’ says Namjoon.

He’s stayed a reasonable distance away, as though he’d known Jimin’s a hair trigger away from—

From what?

Jimin doesn’t know. It’s been a while since his last mission, and he can feel tension building inside him again. 

Fuck Min Yoongi, Jimin has to get on another mission outside skylock, and soon. 

The turmoil inside him needs an out, and what better way than to take it out on a creature that would otherwise kill him?

Kill or be killed are better options than dying inside, although Jimin’s tempted by Jungkook’s approach of fucking everything that moves.

Jimin realises Namjoon’s still looking to him for a response.

‘It’s ok,’ Jimin says. He swipes a hand over his face. ‘How are you?’

‘Been better,’ Namjoon says, quietly.

He gestures, and they start running together. 

Jimin finds he has to put effort in to match Namjoon’s longer strides, and although the taller man looks elegant when he’s standing still, when he’s loping along at pace he has a discoordination to his movements that’s sort of….

Goofy.

Jimin smothers his smile as Namjoon nearly trips over a tree root. 

‘You ok?’ he asks, touching Namjoon’s arm.

Namjoon gives him an embarrassed smile. ‘I can be a little clumsy.’

Jimin smiles back. ‘Thank god, I was worried you were perfect.’

Namjoon gives an incredulous snort. ‘Perfect?’

Jimin thinks of Jungkook and is emboldened to double down.

‘Yeah,’ he says. ‘You’re pretty impressive.’

Namjoon’s smile is shy, dimples stamped into his cheeks. ‘I think you’re kind of cool too, you know.’

Now it’s Jimin’s turn to be embarrassed, but Namjoon’s brown eyes are warm and he seems perfectly sincere, so he responds in kind.

‘Thank you.’

They’ve gone almost full circle now. 

Namjoon looks like he’s about to speak when the siren blares.

It’s an assembly.

***

Jimin shifts restlessly from his vantage point near the raised dais. Namjoon, next to him, says uneasily, ‘I think I know what this is about.’

Jimin thinks back to the underwater channel.

Their skylock is run like a civilisation of sorts, there’s a collective of committees who are responsible for running various essential areas, the leaders of which form the Council.

Water and food supplies.

Air purification.

Defense.

Health.

Joseph Poon, leader of the Council, a Chinese military strategist who proved his brilliance time and again in the early days of skylock, starts the assembly.

He lays out the problem with his usual crisp brevity.

‘Our skylock was never meant to sustain this large a population for this long. Although the intelligence and tech gained from missions has helped, we of the Council are of the belief that the time has come for difficult decisions to be made.’

Beside Jimin, Namjoon murmurs, ‘The tunnels.’

Jimin has an uneasy vision of the tunnel that collapsed on him. He wills the unwanted image out of his head.

‘We’re going to need to seek alternative means of shelter and survival. The world atmosphere remains hostile to human life, but—-‘ 

Joseph looks grave. 

‘But, from what we know, the nuclear bombs weren’t detonated at the Poles. We of the Council feel that the only chance of survival of the many is to create a path to the Arctic circle.’

There’s murmurings, raised voices. Jimin looks to Namjoon for verification, and immediately knows that this information isn’t new to him.

Namjoon puts his hand on Jimin’s arm. Jimin hadn’t realised it, but he’s been clenching his fists so tightly he’s drawn blood. Crescents of crimson bloom on his palms when he releases.

‘We can die hiding or we can die trying to forge a future for humankind.’

Jimin knows which option he’d pick.

‘We’re going to select a team to venture out to get the tech we need to join our underwater channel to the tunnels of the Nordic skylock.’

Joseph looks grim. ‘Hopefully the Nordic skylock has realised the same as us and have already started extending their underground bases Northward.’

There’s a flurry of discussion, shouted questions, but Jimin’s stopped listening.

All he sees is a course of action and orders he can get behind. There’s a reason he thrived in the military, after all. 

***

Jimin’s suited up in droid armour, checking for breaches in the protective cladding of his suit. 

Beside him, Namjoon’s doing the same.

It’s two days since the assembly. Jimin had walked straight up to the Council after and volunteered himself for the first mission.

And all missions thereafter but he hadn’t declared that openly because Min Yoongi had also been present. 

Min Yoongi had pointedly switched out Jimin’s radiation counter for a second one, trading a full line of bars for a clean slate. Two counters were all one was allowed before enforced sabbatical.

Jimin doesn’t intend to go on sabbatical. He’d rather….

Rather what?

Jimin’s worried that death won’t provide the relief he seeks. Worse, he’s worried that for all his bravado  he doesn’t really want to die.

Namjoon motions for Jimin to turn so he can check his armour. He hands Jimin his helmet with its visor, his respirator. 

Jimin snaps his helmet into place, depresses the tiny button beside his jaw.

Namjoon’s voice fills his in-ears. 

‘Remember, we get into the digger and we head straight back. No fighting, even if we run into kraken.’

They’re heading to a farm three miles west of skylock, to see if they can acquire equipment that might aid in constructing the tunnels.

Jimin watches as Namjoon checks his video camera and deioniser, and when the engineer gives him a thumbs up, he hoists the backpack of their supplies onto his shoulders and checks the clip on his yag laser.

Namjoon punches in the eight-figure code to exit skylock and they’re off.

As always, it’s eerie venturing out beyond the confines of skylock. 

The air is still, stagnant, and there’s a thin heat in the atmosphere that feels like standing outside an oven set to high.

There’s distant screeching, occasional growling, none of the birdsong Jimin’s used to.

The worst was when he and Namjoon ventured towards the sea on a previous mission. The scores of dead fish and the odd dolphin washed up on the red shores, silent, unblinking, haunt him to this day.

Jimin’s always loved the beach and now he can’t imagine the ocean how it was before without feeling uneasy.

He and Namjoon keep close together, each on high alert. 

Namjoon’s voice crackles through. ‘I never get used to it.’

‘It’s worse every time,’ Jimin agrees.

‘I used to like hiking,’ Namjoon says. There’s sadness in his voice that Jimin’s not used to hearing. 

‘What do you think of the Council’s plan?’ Jimin asks.

They’ve settled into a steady rhythm now, easing past the tension that sees them off whenever they start a mission.

Namjoon says, ‘It’s a long shot.’

Jimin agrees. ‘I guess it’s better than staying put and waiting to die.’

Namjoon turns to him. ‘You’re a realist.’

Jimim shrugs. ‘Aren’t you?’

‘I have hope,’ Namjoon says, so simply Jimin can hear the honesty in his words.

Jimin can’t see Namjoon’s face at all through the visor and respirator but he gets the sense that he’s smiling. 

‘It’s easier to talk to you like this,’ Namjoon says. ‘When I’m not distracted by your pretty face.’

Jimin’s trying to think of a good comeback when Namjoon says, ‘Sorry, that was inappropriate.’

‘Are you flirting with me?’ Jimin asks, finding his voice.

‘Trying to,’ Namjoon replies. 

‘You couldn’t have done it in skylock? When we’re not masked up and in danger of being attacked by mutant creatures?’

Namjoon laughs. ‘Are you complaining?’

‘Yes,’ Jimin says, but he’s smiling under his visor. 

Namjoon says, ‘I did ask you to go to the underwater channel with me.’

‘Was that….. your idea of a date,’ Jimin wonders.

Namjoon laughs. ‘There are limited options,’ he points out.

‘At least you tried a date and didn’t just skip to the fucking like Jungkook,’ Jimin says.

Namjoon says, droll, ‘I’m a gentleman.’ 

Jimin laughs. ‘We can try again when we get back,’ he suggests.

‘I’d like that,’ Namjoon replies. 

‘Me too.’

Jimin realises he means it.

***

Jimin’s got a prickly feeling in the back of his neck but he can’t work out why.

He and Namjoon arrived at the farm uneventfully and were able to get the information they needed from an excavator that had been stored in a barn, untouched by the extreme atmospheric changes.

There had been a kraken lurking around the peripheries which hadn’t detected them, and they’d been able to leave without being attacked.

Now they’re less than half a mile away from skylock, making good time, and he’s got the oddest sensation that they’re being watched.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

Jimin’s yag laser is drawn, finger on the trigger guard, and beside him, Namjoon’s been uncharacteristically subdued.

Then Namjoon says, ‘You feel it too, don’t you. Something’s watching us.’

‘It’s close,’ Jimin says, clipped.

The hair’s rising on the back of his neck now, the tension ratcheted up so high he could scream.

He whirls, and Namjoon moves to protect his back.

There’s nothing, but his sense of unease deepens.

‘Can you run the rest of the way,’ Jimin asks, quietly. 

‘Yeah. Say when,’ Namjoon says, tersely.

‘Now.’

Jimin starts running. 

They’re within sight of the annexe when Namjoon says, wonderingly, ‘Holy fuck.’

There’s someone else in droid armour between them and the annexe, but it’s wrong.

It’s all wrong, because only two people venture out of skylock at any one time.

It’s all wrong, because the droid armour doesn’t belong to their skylock.

Jimin’s already raising his yag laser when the other person raises their own weapon.

Jimin recognises it immediately. There hadn’t been many people on Earth before the nuclear war who’d faced down an AK-57g and survived to tell the tale.

Jimin could list out the specs but the crux of the matter is that no one faced down an AK-57g and survived because it didn’t just annihilate —- it vapourised. 

Jimin had been one of the lucky ones, and he doubts he’d be so lucky as to survive it twice.

He fires off a shot, aiming at the centre of the breastplate, and immediately puts himself between Namjoon and the enemy.

‘Get into the annexe,’ he shouts.

Namjoon’s shouting something back, but Jimin’s focus is narrowed down to the man who’s trying to kill them both.

He fires off another shot, this time aiming for another kill shot. 

There’s the hiss and screech of rubber and metal. 

In his periphery he can see Namjoon at the entrance to the annexe, and just beyond it, Jungkook, armed to the teeth and hastily donning his droid armour, ready to step in.

The kid’s brave as fuck but he’s too late.

Jimin’s got no cover, just a burning desire to get his ass out of the trajectory of the AK-57g before it gets handed to him.

He’s three feet from the entrance to the annexe when he hears the low drumming of the AK-57g.

Jimin wonders, idly, how much force droid armour can withstand.

He wonders if he’ll ever find out.

At least Namjoon got back into skylock.

Is this the end? 

Jimin waits for his life to flash in front of his eyes.

There’s a wave of heat, then a force so great that mercifully, it knocks him out.

***

The roof of the infirmary is open to the sky through two sheets of titanium enforced clear plexi-shield.

Thank god for small favours. If Jimin had to look at an actual ceiling he’d have wriggled out of the steel cage restraining him long ago.

Jimin’s quite sure he can move all of his body, he’s been trying out different muscle groups over the last two weeks whilst he’s been healing.

The blast from the AK-57g would have liquefied him to a pulp if Jungkook hadn’t dropped the rest of his droid armour and yanked Jimin out of the worst of it.

As a result the kid’s in the next bay with minor burns and a sprained wrist, and Jimin?

Jimin’s alive to tell the tale.

His shoulder will probably never be the same and Min Yoongi’s worried about a spinal injury so Jimin’s immobilised for the time being, but he’s alive.

Jimin closes his eyes as the door to the bay slides open.

He hears a distinctive shuffle, then Min Yoongi’s dry voice.

‘I know you’re awake.’

Jimin opens his eyes.

‘How long till I can move, Dr Min?’

‘Trust me, as soon as it’s safe I’m kicking you out of my infirmary,’ comes the reply. 

Min Yoongi sounds like he’s shaking his head. ‘Between you not listening to anything I say and the menace in the bay next to you, all my nurses have whiplash.’

Jimin stifles a grin. 

He’s heard most of Jungkook’s pickup lines in the two weeks he’s been next to him.

The kid’s even sleazier than Jimin had thought, with a side of being so fucking sweet and endearing he’s surprised anyone can resist. 

He also snores like a bear, it’s just as well Jimin doesn’t sleep much.

Yoongi’s face comes into view above him.

‘Soft tissue and ligament injuries take weeks to heal but I think if you carry on the way you have been, you should be good to start moving properly in the next week or so.’

Yoongi says, ‘No missions until you’re fully recovered.’

Jimin says, ‘With me and JK out, they’re going to need new patrol.’

Yoongi says, straightfaced, ‘Funnily enough, there are more than enough volunteers in this skylock to keep this place safe. Everyone kind of has a vested interest.’

Jimin can’t argue with him.

Yoongi dips out of view. ‘While you’re here, there’s someone I’d like you to speak to. He’s an ex-army doc who got extra qualifications in psychology and behavioural therapy.’

Jimin scowls. ‘I don’t —-‘

‘Don’t you?’ Yoongi interrupts. Jimin still can’t see him, but there’s kindness in his voice that makes Jimin shut his mouth.

Yoongi comes back into view. ‘I can see your PTSD a mile away, Jimin-ah.’

‘While you’re waiting to die have you ever thought that maybe life could be a bit more bearable?’

Jimin stares at him, mouth shut, afraid of what might come out if he opens it.

‘Or you could be like our friend there and fuck everything that moves,’ Yoongi says, loud enough for Jungkook to hear.

Jimin can hear the pout in Jungkook’s voice.

‘I can’t help that everyone wants me, hyung.’

‘It’s Dr Min to you,’ Yoongi retorts. ‘And you won’t be this handsome forever, Jungkook, better think of a backup plan.’

‘How about dying from our imploding planet,’ Jungkook mutters sulkily.

Yoongi’s silent a moment. Then he sighs. ‘What am I going to do with you both?’

‘I did well,’ Jungkook declares. ‘I saved Jimin.’

‘Thanks Jungkook,’ Jimin says.

Yoongi’s exasperated. ‘Who’s going to save me from the both of you?’

***

It’s sometime in the early morning, Jimin thinks, he can tell from the way Jungkook’s snoring has changed to quiet breathing that he’s in deep sleep.

Jimin hears the swish of the infirmary door, assumes it’s one of the nurses but whoever it is has a heavier tread than either of the two nurses on tonight.

He wishes he could turn his head.

‘Jimin?’

It’s Namjoon.

Namjoon’s been coming by at odd times since Jimin got injured. He hasn’t asked for the details but from piecing together what he’s heard he knows that work on the tunnels has started in earnest.

The stranger in droid armour who attacked them was from an underground military bunker who was trying to access their skylock. They weren’t able to find out more — Jimin’s last shot had been fatal and destroyed any chance of finding out more. 

The AK-57g had blown a fissure into the skylock panel where Jimin had been before Jungkook yanked him out of harm’s way.

‘Still here,’ Jimin says. 

He wishes he could see Namjoon’s face, there’s barely any light. He knows the moon’s still up there in the sky but truly, he hasn’t seen its familiar shape since the world fell apart. There’s only the ghostliest of glows that separates the total darkness of night from the inflamed red of day.

‘Can I get you anything?’ Namjoon asks. 

‘I’m fine,’ Jimin answers. 

He’s worried he sounds curt, but a moment later Namjoon’s face hovers above him.

‘They’re close to reaching the furthest Nordic tunnel,’ Namjoon says.

Jimin thinks about that.

He realises Namjoon’s still looking at him.

‘What time is it?’

Namjoon hesitates. ‘It’s 4am.’

‘Can’t sleep?’ Jimin asks.

‘I know you have trouble sleeping sometimes,’ Namjoon says. He moves out of Jimin’s field of vision, the shape of him wavering around Jimin’s peripherals. 

He shrugs. ‘I figured I’d keep you company.’

It’s true. The early mornings are the darkest part of the night for Jimin. 

‘Do you want me to read to you?’ Namjoon asks.

Jimin tries to nod but doesn’t quite manage it. Somehow Namjoon gets the gist.

‘I’m reading this book I think you’ll really like,’ Namjoon says.

He pulls a chair close to Jimin’s bed.

‘Tell me what it’s about,’ Jimin says. 

‘It’s set in the future,’ Namjoon starts. He breaks off abruptly. ‘Well, it was written in the past and it’s how the author imagined the future to be.’

Jimin can think of a thousand responses to that, each more bitter than the last, but he likes Namjoon’s voice and he’s stuck in this bed and part of him wants Namjoon and his story to take him someplace else.

He shuts his eyes and listens.

***

Jimin’s upright for the first time in weeks. He ignores the warning sound from Min Yoongi, swings his legs out of bed and promptly collapses on the floor in a heap.

Yoongi can’t resist an ‘i told you so’ but he also helps Jimin up so there’s that.

Jimin stretches his calves experimentally, sighing at the newfound tightness. This is worse than the time he was shot on duty near the borders but at least he’s still here to tell the tale.

Yoongi says, dryly, ‘Thank god, come take him off my hands.’

Jimin looks up to see Namjoon approaching.

‘I can make it back to my living space,’ he says, lying through his teeth because he doesn’t want Yoongi to know he was right about suggesting a transport pod.

‘Yeah,’ says Namjoon, agreeably. ‘But if you take a transport pod it means I can’t play the big buff hero.’

He flexes jokingly but Jimin’s mouth goes a little dry as he gazes at Namjoon’s broad shoulders. 

For the first time in a long time, Jimin can feel flirtation lacing his voice as he says, ‘Yeah ok, you can carry me back home.’

Namjoon’s dimples flash. ‘Why don’t we start with leaning on me.’

He offers his arm, and Jimin slips his hand into the crook of it.

Jimin’s no slouch in the muscles department, he’s got a core honed through years of training, but his physique is lithe, slim.

Namjoon’s not just tall, he’s also got the broad shoulders and chest Jimin’s always had a weakness for.

His bicep tenses under Jimin’s hand.

‘Can you walk?’ Namjoon asks, low, so that Yoongi can’t hear.

Jimin nods. He’s going to walk at least until he’s out of Yoongi’s line of sight, he’s not going to let the smug asshole medic win this one.

Behind them, Yoongi sighs, exaggerated. 

‘It’s not too late, I can call a transport pod now, Jimin-ah.’

Jimin can feel Namjoon’s arm tighten again. 

‘We’ll be fine, Yoongi,’ Namjoon says, so firmly Jimim could kiss him.

He smiles up gratefully at Namjoon and for just a second Namjoon blinks.

‘Shit, if I’d known playing the big strong hunk would have made you smile like that I’d have done it from the start,’ Namjoon teases, gently.

Jimin’s laughter is genuine, and despite the ache from his long unused calves, he hasn’t felt this good in a while.

***

Jimin’s running again. He’s been seeing the ex-army psychiatrist Yoongi recommended, having therapy sessions once a week.

He’s not sure if they’re helping him, except he’s dreading waking up less. It’d taken him a while to realise he was sleeping more and waking up feeling less panicky. 

He’s been seeing Namjoon almost every day, helping with excavation work on the tunnels, and he thinks that’s going well too.

Both the tunnels and this thing with Namjoon.

Whatever it is.

Namjoon’s waving at him now, all near six feet of him, all bulky arms and dimples and Jimin’s damn near blinded by the sight of him.

The man is beautiful, and Jimin’s not been able to flirt since he stared down an AK-57g. The first time.

Jimin waves back, then pretends he has to check on some of the excavation equipment so he has an excuse to turn his back and compose himself.

Moments later he hears footsteps, Namjoon’s familiar loping gait.

‘Checking equipment, huh?’ Namjoon’s voice is dry, but it sounds like he’s smiling.

‘Yeah,’ Jimin says.

He risks a glance at Namjoon.

‘Looks like the heating coil’s down,’ Namjoon observes.

‘They don’t work with a heating coil —‘ Jimin starts, before realising Namjoon’s just fucking with him.

He is an engineer after all.

Jimin looks up at Namjoon, pretending to be annoyed. ‘I know I’m just a soldier but I know how to work machinery.’

Namjoon eyes Jimin’s crossed arms, and a dimple appears in his cheek. 

‘You’re cute when you’re mad.’

‘I kill enemies,’ Jimin says, unable to keep the pout out of his voice. He can hear himself sounding like Jungkook but he can’t help it.

‘I know,’ Namjoon says. ‘You’ve saved my ass a few times.’

‘It’s a good ass,’ Jimin concedes.

There’s a spark in Namjoon’s gaze, a fizzle that makes Jimin feel warm all over. 

He’s about to say something, but Jimin never hears it because there’s shouting near the entrance of the tunnels, the low, menacing rumble of a landslide.

To Jimin’s horror, the mouth of the tunnel starts to crumble, partially obscuring the entrance.

‘There are people in there,’ Namjoon breathes.

It’s the last thing Jimin hears before he’s running to help.

He knows what it’s like to be buried alive.

***

Jimin’s not there, not all of him anyway.

He watches, detached, as he helps with the rescue effort.

He thinks, dispassionately, that no matter how much planning takes place, rescue efforts don’t go to plan because humans are wildcards in an emergency.

Fight. Flight. Freeze.

The people around him are doing variations of all three.

Jungkook, covered in sweat and dirt, driving an excavator, single-minded in his focus.

Yoongi, staying where he is like he’s rooted, directing the people around him, triaging and treating.

Namjoon on comms coordinating teams of rescuers.

Himself, choking on rubble, half buried because if he wasn’t he’d be running. Jimin can’t run so he leaves part of him here and no one’s checking if all of him’s there and that’s ok.

Jimin’s shoring up the sides, packing rubble with his bare hands. His shoulder stopped screaming a while ago, now it’s seized up. He has to turn his whole body to move rocks but he keeps going anyway.

Gradually he becomes aware of hands on his, his name being called. Jimin tries to shut it out but eventually he can’t.

Namjoon’s voice, coming like it’s from far away. Hands on his arms, on his busted shoulder, making him step away.

Jimin comes back into the shell of himself, a mess of tears and blood and pain, and immediately wants to leave but there are arms around him, holding him like a child. Namjoon’s voice keeps him grounded, low and urgent. Jimin can’t understand the words but he listens anyway, until he’s anchored and he can no longer get away.

***

There’s the light of the moon in the pod, dead quiet all around.

Apart from breathing, separate from his own.

A shape next to his.

Jimin looks.

He’d know the slope of that deltoid anywhere, the curve of that torso.

There’s an arm around his own waist that Jimin explores, tentative, with his fingers. Skin smooth as marble, muscle roped underneath.

Namjoon, stretched out in the moonlight like a man who’s never worried that death is coming for him in the form of an enemy soldier, an AK-57g, a landslide.

Jimin envies him.

He touches along Namjoon’s shoulder, down to his chest, his waist.

Taking his fill.

A tension’s building into muscles that were lax with sleep. Jimin can’t see Namjoon’s face but he’s stirring under his touch.

Namjoon says, in a tone that makes Jimin shiver, ‘Don’t stop.’

Jimin tilts his face towards Namjoon’s, and he obliges with a kiss.

Feather light, the faintest pressure on his mouth.

For a big man, Namjoon’s so gentle.

It’s Jimin who seeks another, wanting another taste. He sighs when Namjoon obliges again.

Namjoon huffs out a breath. ‘I’ve wanted to kiss you for so long,’ he tells Jimin.

Jimin kisses him again so he doesn’t have to speak. His skin warms under Namjoon’s fingers wherever he touches.

Under the thin blanket his body responds, curving into the heat of Namjoon’s body until they’re close, skin to skin.

Namjoon doesn’t take, so much as let Jimin give, and Jimin revels in it. He relishes the way Namjoon’s breathing stutters as he places his palm on his chest, the way Namjoon groans thickly into the skin of his neck as he rocks his hips against his.

There’s fabric between them still, but Jimin can feel how beautifully hard Namjoon is, pressed between them.

Namjoon utters a curse, emphatic, and the gravel in his voice makes Jimin’s eyes close. He can feel Namjoon touching him, exploring the ridges of his abs, sliding round to his back, pulling his hips closer, curving round his ass, hands so big his fingertips dip between his cheeks.

Then, whispered against his ear, ‘Can I?’

Jimin has no idea what he’s agreeing to, only that he wants whatever Namjoon wants.

‘Yeah.’

There’s the click of a lid, and Namjoon’s hand delves under the waistband of Jimin’s bottoms. 

His grip is firm, like Jimin likes, slippery with lube that’s warm. Jimin wonders how he managed that, idly, but then his thoughts fade as Namjoon strokes him.

He’s hard, so hard. 

It’s been so long since someone else has touched him like this.

‘Stay with me,’ Namjoon says, voice thick now. ‘Fuck, stay.’

Jimin reaches up to curl his hand around Namjoon’s neck, tug him closer. 

‘Fuck me,’ he breathes in Namjoon’s ear, and Namjoon shudders, big man that he is, his skin prickling under Jimin’s touch.

Then he’s turning Jimin over, onto his front. The cool sheet against Jimin’s cock makes him moan a little in protest.

He can feel Namjoon behind him, pressing kisses down his spine, down to his cleft, parting him. Namjoon’s tongue flicks against his rim, and Jimin muffles his cry against the pillow.

There’s more lube, sliding down his hot skin, then Namjoon’s pressing two fingers against him, slow.

Jimin groans at the feel of him, and Namjoon stops. 

‘Is this ok?’ he asks, calm like his cock isn’t throbbing against Jimin’s ass, hard and smearing precum.

‘Yeah, fuck, don’t stop,’ Jimin pleads. ‘Don’t stop.’

Jimin moans as Namjoon’s fingers rub inside him.

‘Sound so pretty,’ Namjoon grunts. He presses, gentle, and Jimin’s cock jerks, spilling more precum onto the sheets.

‘You like that?’

Namjoon lifts Jimin’s hips, runs the head of his cock between Jimin’s cleft, tantalisingly close to his rim.

More lube dribbles down on him, then Namjoon’s lining himself up, pushing in.

‘So fucking tight,’ Namjoon utters. 

He curls a hand around Namjoon’s forearm, braced against the bed.

‘You feel so good, baby,’ Namjoon croons, reassuring him even as Jimin can feel the tension in Namjoon’s body as he holds himself back.

‘Fuck,’ Jimin moans. ‘Don’t stop.’

Namjoon curses, slips in another inch, and the stretch of him is so good Jimin can barely breathe.

Namjoon moves a little, a short thrust that makes Jimin’s hand tighten on Namjoon’s forearm.

‘Doing so well,’ Namjoon praises. 

He thrusts again, slipping deeper, sending another jolt of pleasure up Jimin’s spine. 

He can feel his release beckoning with every thrust, the heat of Namjoon’s cock inside him, the friction from the sheets against his own cock, and Jimin’s not sure how much longer he’ll have any form of control.

Namjoon presses a kiss to the back of his neck, cock slipping deeper as he reaches around to take Jimin’s cock in his hand.

Jimin wants to warn him but he can barely breathe to speak.

Namjoon groans, deep, as Jimin pulses in his hand, spilling white streaks of cum between his fingers, the pleasure making him loose, floaty.

Jimin thinks he cries out as Namjoon pulls out, fisting himself.

‘Fuck,’ Namjoon gasps, ‘fuck’, as he comes and Jimin can feel his hot release dripping over his ass, the backs of his thighs.

Namjoon’s turning him over then, wanting to see his face, and Jimin pulls him close to tell him it’s all right.

Everything’s all right.

***

Jimin’s running again, a loop around the lake, only this time it feels different.

Jimin stops so that Namjoon can catch up. The atmosphere in skylock has changed again, whatever Earth’s trying to do to heal itself is changing the climate outside skylock.

It’s cooling down, and Jimin doesn’t know if that’s a good or a bad sign.

Namjoon approaches, sticky with sweat, his skin golden and gleaming in the light of the rising sun.

Jimin tilts his head and Namjoon leans down for a kiss.

He knits his fingers in Namjoon’s.

Later today, the first team of explorers, including Namjoon, Jungkook, Yoongi and Jimin himself, are setting off into the tunnels where they’ll breach the last few hundred yards to the tunnels of the Nordic skylock. Then, after that, the Arctic.

The possibilities are limited, and terrifying.

Namjoon squeezes Jimin’s hand, pulling him back into the present. His profile is beautiful, and Jimin reminds himself to really look just in case this is the last time he sees Namjoon like this.

For the first time in a long time, Jimin wants to remember. 

©hamsterclaw 2024

[screaming-universe]

just a random short list of buddie fics that are AUs based on books/movies, and that I like a lot 🧡

my sun, my moon, my guiding star by diazs (75k, rated general audiences), aka The Martian AU  

Astronauts Diaz, Han, Panikkar, and Wilson were all safely able to reach the Mars Ascent Vehicle and perform an emergency launch at 7:28 a.m. central time thanks to Commander Nash's quick action. Unfortunately, during the evacuation, Astronaut Evan Buckley was killed when he was struck by debris. Commander Nash and the rest of his team are now heading home… but Evan Buckley is dead.

to the waters and the wild by june_nights (@beecauseevan) (64k, rated teen and up audiences), aka The Scorpio Races AU 

The stranger turns. His eyes meet Eddie's and Eddie's breath catches in his lungs. The seagulls, the chattering tourists, the wind, it all fades away. Across the harbor, the man smiles. Eddie feels that smile in his toes. Someone bumps into him, breaking the spell. Eddie takes a deep breath. The salty harbor air fills his lungs. He doesn't allow himself to look back at the ferry. He doesn't allow himself to wonder about that man. He's a tourist and he's here in the middle of October. He wants to ride in the Races, and that means Eddie will stay far, far away. Or: The Scorpio Races are Thisby's oldest, most beloved and deadliest tradition. Three years ago, when tragedy forced him to give up riding for good, Eddie swore he would never look back. It turns out life may have other plans for him.

Hymn to the Sea by @sevensoulmates (52k, rated explicit), aka Titanic AU

It was the unsinkable ship of dreams to everyone else. To Eddie, it was a slave ship, taking him and his son back to America in chains.

even when you’re sleeping keep your eyes open by @spaceprincessem, aka The Hunger Games AU, a series:

you and i’ll be safe and sound (51k, rated teen and up audiences)

“Our second tribute from District Twelve is Evan Buckley.” Eddie’s eyes snap up and he’s pretty fucking sure his heart stops beating all together. If he lets his eyes flutter close he can feel the patter of rain, harsh and ice cold, against his skin. The way the air saturates with the smell of burnt bread. He can see the shape of a boy thrown out into the mud, hands cradling something precious in his hand. The way that bundle was placed in Eddie’s own, shaking palms as a voice whispered, I’m so sorry I can’t do more before he was gone. But Eddie doesn’t let his eyes close. He watches as Evan Buckley — Buck, please just call me Buck — ascends the stairs to take his place next to Eddie. Not you. Please. Anyone, but you. [or the buddie hunger games au]

but when it’s over i’m still awake (52k, rated teen and up audiences)

Eddie doesn’t have to guess which name will stand alone on Reaping Day. He’s going back into the arena. Eddie doesn’t hesitate as he takes off out of the house at full speed. If his family is calling after him then he can’t hear a single word. Not with the blood roaring in his ears and the desperate urge to run run run pumping thunderously in his veins. He needs to get out of here. Out of District Twelve. Out of Panem. Out of his skin and this body doomed to go back to the one place he was supposed to be safe from. He doesn’t want to go back into the arena. He survived. He got out. He’s a fucking victor. But, of course, who is ever really safe in a place like this? [or the buddie catching fire au]

[contreparry]

hi Ann happy friday!!!!! can I please see "[pulling other person close, feeling them breathe a sigh of relief]" on whichever pairing you want!

Absolutely! Here's some pre-Fenris/Anders in that nebulous time period between the end of Dragon Age II and Dragon Age: Inquisition, for @dadrunkwriting!

The foolish man ran off.

Fenris sighed and kicked dirt over the dying coals of the campfire, more to work out his frustrations than to prevent a potential fire. The light drizzle of morning rain and fog killed any threatening sparks ages ago. Fenris drew the hood of his cloak over his head and scanned the tree line. He was only gone for half an hour at most, scouting ahead before they made their journey further north. North to where, Fenris wasn't about to say. He wouldn't deny that he felt a pull towards his homeland. He had unfinished business there, and now he had the inclination, the time, and most importantly the ability to set forth and conclude that chapter of his life.

The fact that Anders would be relatively safe in the country was merely a bonus.

Fenris promised Hawke that he would keep the man alive. It was no order, no demand, Hawke had not even asked him to- no, it was all his doing. Fenris made a promise, and he would see it through. And Anders... was a decent traveling companion. Quiet. Too quiet, in truth. That happened to soldiers sometimes. Fenris knew that. Fighters too, after hundreds of battles in arenas. Their eyes stared into the distance, seeing something no one else could. They lived in their memories at times, and occasionally a sound, a smell, a flash of color would tear them from the present and send them hurtling into their past, into a world of fear and pain and-

Fenris understood. He knew what it meant to live with pain and fear. And Anders, in those first weeks of their journey, was a dead man walking, shambling along the road with Fenris guiding him through the worst of the muck. He didn’t do much beyond eat when prompted and sleep when they rested. Fenris hadn't the heart or energy to speak either, so their journey was silent. But sometimes, when the fire died down and the wilderness sang with wildlife, sometimes Fenris would look over at Anders and... think. Perhaps if they hadn’t been so combative, if they showed a measure of grace, if they hadn’t gone at each other with teeth bared seeking blood, if they- if they hadn’t met each other as they were at their worst but as they could have been, perhaps… perhaps they would have had more quiet evenings by a fireside. Seemed too late to mourn what they never had, however, so Fenris pressed on with Anders in tow.

Anders grew chattier as time went on, but their conversations revolved around small things. He would make a short remark about a bird he recognized or some other observation. Nothing profound. It was... normal. At least, it was the sort of thing Fenris thought a normal man might discuss while traveling in the woods, and the thought of them being normal men was so ludicrous he wanted to laugh. But he hadn't. He let Anders talk. Point out birds. Plants. Weird rocks that looked like faces if you looked at them just right. It was almost pleasant.

But now Anders was missing, and Fenris cursed how lax he had grown over a few weeks of travel. Foolish of him to lower his guard. Foolish to think Anders wouldn't give him the slip. Fenris gathered his pack (at least the man hadn't taken that with him) and set off, following the muddy trail of heavy footsteps through the forest. He couldn't have gone far, and based on the path he cut through the brush Anders wasn't trying to hide his route. Fenris could catch up if he hurried. So, he did, swift and silent as he followed Anders' path of minor destruction.

Fenris emerged into a clearing as the morning rain lightened to a drizzle. A small cottage stood at the far end of the meadow. For a brief moment Fenris wondered if the occupants were sleeping through the poor weather, for all the lights within were out. But upon a second look it was evident that the cottage had been abandoned for at least a few years. The door creaked ominously on its hinges, and the grass in the meadow was overgrown. The chicken coop was in a worse state, the roof having collapsed in on itself. And it was here that Fenris found Anders. His back was towards him, his arms braced on the remains of a rotting wooden fence that must have once surrounded a tiny paddock. His eyes were fixed on the ruined cottage, and he did not stir as Fenris approached.

“So this is where you were hiding,” Fenris said, though he didn’t know why he bothered to speak at all. Anders was quiet nowadays, and his spirit companion (Justice? Vengeance?) refused to make an appearance. So it was no surprise that Anders ignored him. Fenris joined him at the fence and looked out over the abandoned cottage.

He wished Hawke were here. She’d know what to say. She would say some pithy remark about the place. Nice decor, she would exclaim. It seems like something that you’d like, Fenris. Look at the cobwebs! But Anders was quiet, and Fenris didn’t know how to start a conversation with the man that didn’t end in an argument. So they stood side by side, leaning on a rotten fence as they stared at an abandoned cottage in the rain.

“Didn’t think you’d find me,” Anders murmured, his eyes fixed on the cottage.

“Your trail was easy to follow,” Fenris replied. So he had run off, then. He supposed it wasn’t that much of a shock. It truth it was surprising that Anders hadn’t run earlier. It was a surprise that he hadn’t kept running. Maybe the weather stopped him. Maybe he was too tired to go on.

“Didn’t think you’d want to find me,” Anders amended. “It’s a nice place.”

“Hmm,” Fenris didn’t know if he and Anders had a similar understanding of the word “nice.” Perhaps the manor was a wreck, but at least it had four walls and a ceiling. Even if the ceiling leaked.

“Needs work. New thatching, clear out the insides, salvage what you can. Build a new chicken coop,” Anders continued. “But it’s good. Far away from people.”

“Mmm.” Far from people was one way to put it. Ass-end of the earth was another.

“I’m decent enough with a hammer. I can give you pointers. And you’re smart. You’ll figure it out,” Anders said, as if he was trying to reassure Fenris, and the unease that plagued him the moment he realized Anders wasn’t at their camp returned with a terrible vengeance.

“What, exactly, are you dancing around, Anders?” Fenris asked.

“It’s a good place for you to stay,” Anders said slowly, as if Fenris was the one who was behaving cryptically. “I’ll help you get settled, and then I’ll be on my way.”

It seemed that, despite his new tendency towards keeping silent, Anders still had the ability to utterly confound Fenris. Confound, bemuse, baffle. If this was a conversation from before they fled Kirkwall Fenris might have bristled at a hundred potential slights, but now he could only stand back and marvel at Anders sheer ability to make the strangest declarations at the oddest of times.

“… did you think that you were playing my escort?” Fenris finally asked, which made Anders stir. He rolled his eyes, sighed irritably (like he did back in Kirkwall, back before, years before this entire mess), crossed his arms over his chest.

“I was thinking- “

“Dangerous,” Fenris interrupted.

“-that I am a liability. You want a peaceful life without mages or magic and- well, can’t get more peaceful than “cottage in the woods,” don’t you think?” Anders said blithely, gesturing towards the ruined cottage with more vigor than he had displayed in months. Years.

A peaceful life away from mages and magic. Fenris stared at the stone and rotting wood before him and couldn't help but think the gesture was... sweet. Terribly misguided, of course, but sweet, nonetheless. Fenris let himself think of it: a thatched roof, chickens in the yard, the wind rustling through the thick oak branches, the silence of the forest in winter. He thought of it, held onto the possibility for a moment, savored what he imagined that life could be-

"... foolish man," Fenris grumbled, and he carefully wrapped an arm and his cloak around Anders' shoulders. "Can't be rid of me so easily. Come now, rain's letting up and we've got a day's walk to the next town on the map."

He felt Anders take in a shaky breath against him as they turned away from the cottage and the meadow. They walked together under the trees as the rain and fog lifted and bird song filled the air. Warblers, maybe? Anders would know, but Fenris would wait for him to say so. Or maybe he would ask later. They had a long journey ahead of them, after all.

"It seemed a good place for you. Quiet. You like that," Anders remarked. "It seemed... I thought it might make you happy. To have a place of your own where no one would bother you."

"It would drive me mad in a year," Fenris replied. "I have grown accustomed to being bothered."

Anders' sigh of relief shook Fenris to his soul.

[azumasoroshi]

shizaya fights are cool

forever thinking about how fun shizuo and izaya's chase scenes are because they're always based on the environment <333 like fighting in a giant empty arena has always been meh to me i LOVE when fights incorporate the setting like the train/construction zone fights in shang-chi and any of gray's fights from weak hero and stuff like that

and the nature of shizaya's fights is literally them using every object in ikebukuro to try to kill each other with (including trucks) so of course there's a TON of environment interaction and even if it's not practical at all (shizuo probably could have killed izaya a million times over if he just punched him instead of...pressing his forehead against his???? or throwing the truck at him instead of backwards????) it's SO fun to watch

if i ever learn to animate properly id really wanna make another one of their chase scenes because explosions and fire laser beams are cool but vaulting off of sign posts stuck in the sides of buildings is even cooler

OR write about it in fanfiction, tbh shizaya fics skip over the fights too much or just have them running and cut to them being exhausted like MAN show your work give me the good shit or ill write it myself (that sounds like SO much more fun compared to writing 'he slashed the other's clothes with his sword, missing by a hare's breadth and scowling as the other rushed forward to compensate for his wavering balance" or something. maybe i tried too hard on that one but IDK I DONT LIKE WRITING FIGHT SCENES

they're generally really hard to not get repetitive for me but there'd be so much less repetition in a shizaya fight becase you're always moving and you can always throw new stuff into the equation so it's not just the same old movements over and over. and you can change locations too like what if they're fighting in an aquarium?? fucking uh oh dude

or like. them "trading weapons" would be fun, where shizuo starts throwing the knives he's acquired from izaya over the years/the ones he catches in his teeth and izaya like. im not sure what he would do but maybe shizuo launches a bunch of things at some ceiling panelling and they get stuck in it and izaya cuts them down and all the stuff falls on shizuo like stalectites and he has to run to get out from under it. that kind of stuff

i cant focus on anything else rn because i just watched this for like the seventh time this week and just hhHHHHH (it's mirrored but apparently it's from an ova so you can probably watch the whole unmirrored episode somewhere)

i love how ovas are usually for fanservice stuff and durarara fans' fanservice is full shizaya fight. they knew what we wanted and by god they delivered

[heavensbeehall]

"Catching Fire", Chapter 26

Part 3: The Enemy

Chapter 26: Our Alliance hikes to the Lightning Tree of Doom. Johanna and Katniss take off with the coil, but it's cut. Johanna hits Katniss, removes her tracker, and attempts totrick the Careers into following her. Brutus says Katniss is as good as dead. A cannon goes off (Chaff, killed by Brutus), making Katniss afraid for Peeta. She follows the wire back to the Lightning Tree only to find Beetee, injured, with Peeta's knife wrapped in wire. Peeta calls for Katniss. Katniss calls for Peeta, hoping to draw any attackers to her and the Lightning Tree. Enobaria and Finnick arrive. Katniss prepares to shoot them. Another cannon goes off (Brutus, killed by Peeta). But Katniss remembers Haymitch's advice to remember who the enemy is so she sends her arrow into the "chink" in the force field's armor. She is paralyzed by the lightning and can't reach Peeta or his pearl. (Sadface).

Thoughts:

-- I have been listening to bits of the audiobook while reading along and I have decided that I like Tatiana Maslany as Katniss better than Carolyn McCormick, the original narrator. McCormick sounds younger, but Maslany--even though I know her from other things--is more Katnissy in a way I can't describe. Anyway, just in case anyone is considering downloading either edition.

-- It's funny that Katniss is so convinced Peeta could convince anyone of anything, like he could charm the skin off the snake. Because I can't think of one instance when he convinced Katniss to do something she didn't want to?

-- If neither Brutus or Enobaria followed Johanna very far, then where the fuck is she during all of this?

Quotes:

The alliance is over. Finnick and Johanna must have had an agreement to turn on us tonight. I knew we should have left this morning

Katniss thinks Johanna tried to kill her but just didn't get the chance because Brutus and Enobaria showed up, which is silly. If she wanted to kill Katniss, she'd have hit her with an axe not the wire coil. Sometimes our girl is a bit slow.

There's a much deeper alliance based on years of friendship and who knows what else.

Wait does Katniss think Finnick and Johanna are fucking? Hilarious.

The boom of a cannon pulls me up short. Someone has died. I know that with everyone running around armed and scared right now, it could be anybody. But whoever it is, I believe the death will trigger a kind of free-for-all out here in the night. People will kill first and wonder about their motives later.

This is Chaff's death. As I've mentioned before I am very confused as to what he was up to. Did Peeta run in a different direction that Finnick? Because that seems dangerous. If Brutus was following Johanna, how did he come upon Chaff? Or was he helping Johanna and Peeta just happened to see it? I am vexed by the Chaff situation.

The moan must have been involuntary. [Beetee]'s not conscious, although I can see no wound except a gash below the crook of his elbow.

So Finnick cut out Beetee's tracker before he ran? Or did he do it himself?

[Beetee] and I will soon die. Finnick and Enobaria will die. Peeta is alive. Two cannons have sounded. Brutus, Johanna, Chaff. Two of them are already dead. That will leave Peeta with only one tribute to kill. And that is the very best I can do. One enemy.

Okay let's say things go as Katniss plans here. Do we think Peeta could take Johanna? I know he's bigger than her, but I am leaning towards no if she has an axe to throw, but I am not sure she does at this point.

I have always known who the enemy is. Who starves and tortures and kills us in the arena. Who will soon kill everyone I love. My bow drops as his meaning registers. Yes, I know who the enemy is. And it's not Enobaria.

I really like this bit. In the movie it is just Finnick. But there is something about the fact that Enobaria was not part of the alliance at any time which makes me think of Cato's death, and even Coral in the latest movie. The Careers might seem evil to the outlying districts, but this is another deception on the Capitol's part, it keeps them fighting one another instead of the Capitol.

[xenomorphee3]

One of my favorite "scenes" from my story ^_^ Really great interaction between Miles and my Ash Na'vi OC

Snippet from Chapter 12. Goin' Solo

Story spoilers-- obviously! :P (If you want to see what Zu looks like, check the pinned post on my page!)

The Ash Na'vi warriors were sparring in the 'drill field' in full gear— light armor, but it was armor. Metal chest plates, arm shields, and wielding obsidian spears and long blades. Ta’zem, who Miles hadn’t seen in days was commanding these warriors. Yelling at them in Na’vi, like a drill leader. Miles noticed the sparring was a lot less lethal in appearance than his fight with Ta’zem. Of course it was. The warriors were fierce though. Well-coordinated. Human military like. Other Na'vi, workers not warriors, were carting materials to and from huts and around various stations at the base of the volcano. Wood for the forge fires, jewels for the sculptors, finished products for storage huts, and other materials transfers. Miles continued scanning the floor of the volcano with his binoculars for Zu. He found her. She was at the tree, bent down, resting on both knees in the soft soil immediately around the trunk of the tree. She had her queue, or tswain as its called in Na’vi, connected to one of the low hanging, succulent-like tendrils of this unique-looking spirit tree. He watched her. She looked peaceful, her hands on her thighs, her tail curling slowly. After a few moments she disconnected her tswain from the tree and stood. She then headed towards the drill field where Ta’zem was.

On his ledge, and through his binoculars about two hundred feet below him, Miles watched Zu and Ta’zem speak on the dark-colored, basalt floor of the inside of this dormant volcano illuminated by the sun shining through the volcano's rim above and the glow of the spirit tree. She had a friendly face on, but Ta’zem seemed especially animated in speaking to her, smiling and his tail moving rapidly. They were seemingly discussing the warriors judging by the gestures and observation of their sparring. Ta’zem then walked in close to Zu and gently put his hand on her upper arm. She stood there and smiled very slightly at Ta'zem. Seeing this gave Miles a weird feeling in the pit of his stomach, but he brushed it off. They continued speaking for a few more minutes. 

Suddenly, Miles’ ears reacted to sound behind him coming through the cave. It was a Na'vi worker guiding a draft animal with a cart of materials coming into the cave. Miles was startled and moved enough to accidentally knock some pebbles down the ledge.

Zu, being as sharp and aware as she was, detected this strange event above her. Her eyes and ears rapidly picking up what happened and wondering what caused such. She squinted in suspicion. Ta’zem and the sparring warriors didn't even notice. She watched the ledge and waited and recognized that between the rocks falling and the worker with the cart appearing to move down the ledge it was much too long for them to be connected. In Na’vi she said to Ta’zem, “I will be back.” And she grabbed a spear from the sparring arena and quickly headed up the zig-zagging ledge.

Miles avoided being seen by the man with cart by hiding behind a medium-sized rock that was on the right side of the ledge he was on after the cave ended. The man never even knew he was there, he just casually continued down into the caldera via the path which went left after the cave. Once the man with the cart made it past the first zig on the way down to the floor of the volcano, he stealthily leaned over to observe Zu and Ta’zem again. He didn’t see her though. Where did she—OH SHIT. She was moving fast up the path. He had to leave. He quickly turned around and headed back out the cave to the outside of the volcano.

He knew Zu would catch up to, hear, and see him if he called for Cupcake here. So he continued down into the forest basin deeper past the base of the volcano, gravity taking his legs fast and far downhill away from the dormant cone. Finally. He got to a place of presumed safety from discovery by Zu. There were animal sounds ringing loudly throughout the forest and he noticed that some of the vegetation here was strange even by Pandora’s standards, more fungal-looking than plant and it was a very dark canopy. Ironically, he felt more safe in this dark alien forest than getting caught by Zu. He slowly spun around to take in his surroundings and was about to whistle for Cupcake when right there in front of him, standing rigidly was Zu. The Marine jumped with a jolt from every muscle of his body and couldn’t help exclaim, “WHOA, GOD!” upon seeing her orange eyes glaring up at him. She was standing there, angry, holding the base of her spear in the ground. Her gray blue skin appearing gunmetal under the dark canopy of the forest. Miles just stared at her in shock. Eyes wide, ears back, tail absolutely still.

“Why did you follow me, My-ulls?” she asked firmly.

Miles had no reason to lie, but his brain scanned for ways to say it in a way that wouldn’t make the clearly angered, giant-fanged, warrior princess standing in front of him even more angry.

“I… I asked you where you had been going. You didn't tell me. And I wanted to know.” Miles said, knowing full well this was not at all the best response as it was coming out.

Zu looked irritated. “If I wanted you there or to know about that place, I would have showed you. You are not allowed there.” she said raising her spear and slamming it back into the ground.

Miles was perturbed now. His tail curling erratically at the end signaling his frustration. “Well, I have a mission Miss Zu. And in case you haven’t forgotten, we are giving an update on our mission status tomorrow. I don’t think telling them that our host disappears to a secret place nearly every day that she won’t discuss fulfills that mission. We’ve been sharing everything we can with you. Where's the reciprocation?"

"Reciprocation?" Zu asked inquisitively, but still angry.

"Mutual. Fair exchange." Miles said shortly.

Zu squinted and said, “What I do, show, and share with you is my choice. My choice for my people. You are not allowed there,” she repeated heatedly, this time stepping toward him and baring her large fanged teeth slightly.

“Well, we're not in there anymore are we? And what, not like your glowing damn tree is that unique or special. Practically every clan of you people has one.” Miles said condescendingly, his voice elevated.

This one angered Zu. She made a face like death at him, her orange eyes filled with rage, rage at this ignorant, disrespectful alien, and she tipped her spear close towards his neck. Miles just stood there, chin up, trying to increase the distance between his neck and her spear, looking down at the point of the spear and Zu's eyes. His hands were held slightly out and low, and in reacting to the threat he instinctively became acutely aware of the fastest weapon he could draw—between his AR slung on his back, his side arm, or his knife.

She spoke, “Our tree is special.”

Miles pulled back his lips and bared his teeth with a smirk. “Alright fine, your tree is special. But Miss, we have a job to do here and you can either work with us or—”

“Shhh!” Zu said suddenly, but quietly. Whipping her spear and body around to face behind her. On edge. Miles looked around and listened. It was quiet. None of animal sounds of before. Both his and Zu’s tails were up. Ears alert. The sensed something. There was something here.

All of a sudden out of the brush a giant long snout appeared and snapped at them from a high angle, Zu and Miles just barely dodged out of the way. It all happened so fast, but Miles had seen the head of this animal before. It was the skull on the altar that he saw during the clan dinner. This animal was huge. It was far bigger than an adult Thanator and the size of a large Hammerhead Titanothere. And it was after them! Zu and Miles ran through the brush, this giant creature fast after them. They dodged over and under branches and logs which slowed them, but not this animal, its mass helping it smash through any woody undergrowth.

With this creature right on their heals, they dove under the mangrove-like roots of a giant tree for cover and readied their weapons. Miles slung his AR to the front and fired. This was the first time Zu had seen Sky People weapons be used and she wishes she was under threat of death at the moment to be able to take in the technology. However, Zu knew that even this Sky Person weapon was futile against this creature as it was massive and heavily armored. Miles quickly realized said futility after emptying about half the magazine and the giant predator barely reacting to the bullets landing on its body. Miles grimaced, frustrated, ears leaned back sharply. The most powerful weapon either of them had and it did nothing for them. Miles then, without thinking, put his huge right arm over Zu’s chest, as if to protect her. In a moment, Zu looked at his arm then to Miles, his focus fast on the creature. It seemed like he didn’t even realize he was doing this.

The creature slowed and started walking around the base of the tree, surveying where its lunch was before reaching in its long snout in to get them. Miles was able to get a good look at this animal while it stalked around. It had a long slender body with a deep, tall, long crocodile-like snout, a crown of colorful blue and purple quills on the back of its head, its two queues emerging from them, and a long neck with the quill-like structures continuing down on it. It had dark, spiky, overlapping scutes going down the center of its back and had hard thick, scaly, armored skin, with a deep green tint to it, helping it be well camouflaged with the dark forest's vegetation. It had six limbs like most Pandoran animals, but its posture was closer to like that of a centaur, it had free arms with three massive curved claws at the end of its fingers. It also had a long tail that ended in the same quill-like structures of its head and neck. As Miles was getting a good look at the creature, it peered through a large gap between two of the tree’s roots. Right above them.

“GO!” Miles yelled, pushing Zu’s back to quickly move her, the creature dove into the base of the tree, effortlessly bending the firm the roots out of the way with its sheer mass. Miles and Zu both scrambled out from the roots and ran deeper into the brush, the creature hissing and chasing behind them. It was gaining. The creature suddenly lunged to snap behind them, its head turned sideways and jaws closing horizontally to try and snap them both up, but Miles and Zu instinctively dropped to the ground and missed the closing of the toothy jaws just a few feet above them. They both then rolled the opposite way from one another to get away from the creature’s head and claws which were above them in that moment.

Now they were separated, this giant creature between them. It looked towards both Zu and Miles, then fully turned its attention to Zu. Her orange eyes grew wide with fear, but she oriented her spear towards the beast, and viciously hissed at it, her fangs fully bared. Miles needed to do something. He yelled, “HEY!” and emptied the rest of his AR magazine at the creature's backside. Though he knew this didn’t hurt it, the bullets certainly irritated it and caught its attention and the creature took its eyes off Zu and quickly turned to Miles slashing its giant free armed claws at him. Miles jump stepped backwards and his back caught a tree trunk, and the claws missed him by about one foot. Miles was agile in this body, a well-trained Marine, but still, Marines weren’t trained to fight monsters. The creature went to snap its jaws horizontally at him again, but Miles rolled around the tree and the creature’s mouth closed on the trunk, he could see the ends of its massive upper and lower jaws to both his left and right biting the tree. Miles then ran around, past the creature, some of its huge teeth seemingly embedded in the tree, to Zu and grabbed her wrist to run with her through the forest. The creature turned around and roared and continued its chase.

Miles and Zu ended up at a slightly less vegetation-covered clearing in the middle of the woods. Oh no, they’d be exposed. But they couldn’t turn around, they had to keep going. They ran across the clearing, feeling the primal fear of a predator closing in behind them. Suddenly, they came upon a narrow fissure in the ground and processing it for no more than a millisecond, they measured this as their best option for survival. A place where this huge creature could not reach into. Miles and Zu looked back at the creature barreling towards them, then looked at one another and the fissure. Miles quickly helped Zu down first. He looked back at the creature, just twenty feet away making one last lunge towards him and he jumped into the small crevasse. The creature’s jaws missing him by a hair. He could feel its hot breath on top of his head.

He and Zu landed at the base of this narrow fissure, which was actually a tiny pit cave, barely bigger than the bottom of a well, Zu and Miles practically on top of one another. She made sure to maneuver her spear out of the way and against the cave wall as not to impale Miles when he came down. The creature was desperately, frustratingly trying to stick its snout in to reach them, then trying to grab them with its arms and claws, but to no avail. Miles and Zu were about six feet out of its reach. Incredibly close for comfort, less than a body length, but they were out of reach. The creature put its head in the fissure one last time, roared loudly at Miles and Zu, the volume causing their ears to lean back in pain. And then it left. Off to find an easier meal. Or wait them out.

Both Zu and Miles were on their backs and Zu was leaning against Miles’ left side on top of his huge left arm in the tight space, their legs unable to stretch out fully. They were breathing rapidly and heavily. Adrenaline coursing through their bodies, but beginning to slow. Their tails quickly thrashing around with exhilaration and also elation. After a few minutes of silence, letting the shock and relief of having survived set in, and after their breathing started to slow, Zu started to laugh. Miles couldn’t believe it. They almost died to some giant toothy monster and this crazy Na'vi girl was laughing.

“Oh you think that was funny, huh?” Miles said playfully and he began to chuckle as well. Zu just kept giggling and she and Miles both tried to get up at the same time, but the tight, rocky, dirt-lined space didn’t make this easy. Miles slid back down onto his back and she slid closer into his body, his huge arms catching her. Their mutual giggling stopped.

Zu lowered her ears and looked deep into Mile’s eyes-- Her fiery stare locked with his golden gaze. Miles’ ears leaned back, his jaw clenched, his muscles tensing, then he swallowed, and his jaw went slack. Zu’s lips parted, her large canine teeth revealed. She unlocked her eyes from his and looked at his giant arms, and lightly touched his exposed chest above his tactical vest. She looked into his eyes again. Like a reflex he couldn't control, Miles took his right hand and slowly, gently reached for her face with his huge fingers, moving some of her loose wavy-curly hair from her forehead and softly stroked her gray-blue cheek. Zu then quickly moved her body forward to kiss him. Miles didn't hesitate to kiss her back, lightly holding her pretty face with his huge hand. After this kiss, they both looked at each other with wide eyes, emotions swirling. Zu then leaned up over him and began making her way up to climb out of the pit to see if the coast was clear.

Miles sat back for a moment longer.

What the hell are you doing, Marine??

Read moar!

[pyreshe]

i am very tender always about livvy's thg verse,, like it's one of the only verses where i will default to writing livvy as a teenager- she's only fifteen in catching f.ire and was the youngest victor on record- won her games at twelve years old.

she had a very close alliance with her district partner who tbh gale and katniss would have reminded her of; his name was amadeus and he was almost safe from being chosen at seventeen. he was the main provider for his family, his mom and four younger sisters, and was known to use the tunnels to slip outside of district 3 to scavenge and occasionally set up snares. he'd clung to livvy immediately and she had clung to him.

on the way over, livvy had spent a Lot of time with their capitol escort. she absolutely hated the man, but her mentors looked at her like she was already in the plain wooden box they'd send her home in and amadeus was in the same predicament she was in. she peeled the escort apart in her mind and used him to tailor a mask the capitol would find endearing and enchanting.

she had waved and grinned through the train window, skipped ahead when they arrived. during her interview, she twirled and chirped about how she'd always wanted a pretty dress like this and how glad she was to enjoy this "even just for now", kissed caesar's cheeks and gave him a hug, bowed to the audience. the non-career kids are usually so depressing about the whole thing, it was refreshing.

and then she got a 9 during her game assessment after showing them that she could set explosives and fire based traps, that she could detonate them quietly and unseen. by the time her time was up, she'd near incinerated 6 training dummies. she was viable for sponsors, and wiress and beetee didn't even need to do much to work for them.

during the actual games, she and amadeus bolted from the cornucopia and then put their strategy in place. one of them would distract the careers and the other would steal as much as they could carry; never food or weapons, which is likely why their thefts went largely undetected for so long. they used these materials to absolutely cover their arena's in various traps and snares. some were only meant to draw attention when detonated, lure careers to finish the job, and others were so deadly they'd be able to take out half the remaining tributes at once.

when it was down to the final six, one of the careers killed amadeus and he made sure she died alongside him on his way out. livvy seemed to be on the run from the remaining two careers, the boys from 1 and 2, and after they'd killed the girl from 10, they gave chase in earnest. not for the first time, they wondered if she was insane when she'd smiled at them, chest heaving, as though she'd just won a game of tag. but then the explosive had gone off, two cannons sounded, and the hovercraft came to collect her. she had used herself as bait.

her story was presented as the unlikely triumph of a plucky under-dog and the capitol ate. it. up. a lot of people were inclined to think her games were won mostly of luck and not deliberate ruthless cunning and snow advised her to keep the illusion alive.

she befriended finnick, johanna, annie, mags, and a handful of other victors. largely presents in the capitol as a bubbly but somewhat dimwitted presence; she has no interest in secrets or politics or rebellion, only her pretty clothes and what party she will be attending that night. they view her in a similar way to sh.irley te.mple, still seeing her as the little girl on stage who twirled and giggled and gave caesar a hug.

it's a bit of a surprise when the revolution starts and they discover she's a hyper-competent strategist and weapons builder who is out for blood.

[matatabi-chan-pokemon]

Additionally, I’ve finally given in and bought myself Pokemon Scarlet. I’m three Arenas, one Titan and one Base in so far. It’s been…an experience.

First of all, I went with Sprigatito as my starter. He who shall be nicknamed ‘Merlin’. I quickly added a few temporary members to progress enough to get access to the larger map, and the areas for the Pokémon I actually want for my team this time. My temporary team consisted of:

Merlin the Sprigatito

Apollo the Gastly

Misty the Psyduck

Sire the Wooper

Koi Koi the Magikarp

Fenyx the Fledgling

I obviously stuck with more familiar Pokémon as I knew what I would get out of them. While I did catch everything there was to find in the area as soon as I got access to Pokeballs, the designs of the new Pokemon weren’t interesting enough to stick them on my team. I do plan on switching a few of them in later on but chances are, they still won’t stay on and I’ll just do it for the Dex.

I did some research on which Pokémon were available in the game that I was considering for my team. I usually tend towards Fire and Dragon types. I know in the competitive scene most of my teams would be easily beaten but they can usually go against the trainer AI no problem and that’s enough for me. I was planning on Garchomp, Salamence or Haxorus as my main fighter. I settled on Garchomp and maybe Salamence if I come across a Bagon.

Next I went exploring on the off chance I find the Garchomp I was looking for and whatever else of my preferred partners Id run into. I had a rough idea of where to find my Gible so I made my way to the western region. And I quickly ran into a group of Gible and even a Gabite under a rocky cliff. I challenged the first one I saw and quickly saw I was obviously underleveled for her at 27. But I was stubborn and just kept chucking balls at her and she stayed in the third one. So I got my first actual teammate.

Aster the Garchomp

As luck would have it, not long after I ran into a Riolu soon after and he too became part of the main team. Or rather he was being an aggressive little shit and ran into me. But eh.

Rascal the Riolu joined the team.

And my luck didn’t end there. I met one of the apparently more rarer spawns of the area. An Eevee. And that little girl was ridiculously stubborn. Even on low health & paralyzed, she refused for 15 balls and I was beginning to run low. She finally stayed when I chucked a luxury ball at her. Immediately. She remained nameless for now until I decide what I’m going to evolve her into.

??? the Eevee joined.

Soon after I decided to explore the opposite side of the main town and entered the eastern region. Running around I found a thunderstone which gave me an idea for my next target. A Pokémon that I’ve seen mentioned a lot of times in regards to weaknesses and that I’ve never used in a run but have wanted to try for a while now. It starts as a cute little Tynamo. I turned around after checking it’s availability in Scarlet and the spawn area. But that left me with two hurdles. I can’t swim (yet) and so far half my team refuses to listen and the other half is way to weak. So my next stop would be the arenas to get my team into fighting shape and challenge my first titan. A giant stork that likes throwing boulders.

I made quick work of the Cortondo Bug Type Gym and the Open Sky Titan. A quick trip to the Artazon Gym gave similar results. I did a quick check of the Team Star base there but turned around again. They can wait a bit more but will be my next stop.

I jumped into the southern ocean for my Tynamo. I named the little guy after the first person I remembered having a connection to one.

Welcome to the team, Emmet the Tynamo.

With that I had 4/6 Pokémon down. And for once I decided to take a step back and consider my type coverings. I knew what moves Garchomp and Lucario would get later.

Earthquake, Dragon Claw, Fire Fang and Swords Dance/(maybe I’ll leave Sand Attack)

Aura Sphere, Shadow Ball, Nasty Plot and Flash Cannon.

For Elektross I checked out his possible moves. I needed four more types to completely cover all my offenses. I decided on

Thunder Punch, Drain Punch, Coil and Dragon Tail.

For Eevee I decided to do the opposite. I disregard which evolution would for best and went with my favorite. Glaceon with the moves

Ice Beam, Tera Blast, Freeze-Dry and Water Pulse.

And while I was at it, I decided if one specific Pokémon was available, considered the amount of work and time I’d have to invest into it and settled on Milotic. For it I decided on a little quicker route. I transferred over two of my Milotic from Sword over to Scarlet, and let them have their fun during a picnic. I was aiming for a female Feebas and that regrettably took another 10 eggs to happen. But this was already time consuming and I didn’t care. I had already prepared my plan for this little girl to become a Milotic without another trainer to help out and that would also take time so Feebas can train alongside the rest for now. Evolution can wait.

Since she’ll later make a trip to Sinnoh, I thought naming her Coronet was fitting.

That left me with one empty spot.

[thgfanfictionlibrary]

Active Authors Masterlist (10)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 /

***Active (on this blog) is defined as a blog/writer who has updated within the past year. Inactive (on this blog) is defined as a blog/writer that has not been updated at all in the past year+. On THG Writing Hiatus (on this blog) is a blog/writer who has updated within the past year but has not posted a fanfic in the fandom in the past year BUT they may return to writing in the future. Lists will be updated as needed based on activity. ***

Created: February 10th, 2024

Last Checked:-----

atleastmymomlikesme-ao3, ff.net, tumblr

Popular Fic: Respect the Grayest Pile (For the Departed Creature’s sake) Summary: Against his better judgment, Haymitch has accepted responsibility for both a revolution and two teenagers who will surely be the death of him. Probably sooner rather than later. Just his luck that the only way to save them both involves landing himself back in the arena. Catching Fire AU

ellizablue-ao3, ff.net, tumblr

Popular Fic: Where Soul Meets A Body Summary: "Sometimes I think they reaped you because they knew I would love you." Annie and Finnick's full story, starting with Annie's Reaping and ending after Mockingjay. Annie's POV. Canon.

LastLeaf :: ao3, ffnet, tumblr

Popular Fic: Beyond the Fence-Divorced with a failing business, Peeta Mellark doesn't think he can sink any lower. Until he finds himself attracted to his neighbor's 20 year-old niece.

Littlefroid-ao3, tumblr

Popular Fic: The old familiar sting Summary: Maureen Trevi won the 49th Annual Hunger Games, and has now been a victor for 11 years. Dealing with her own demons for a decade now, alongside her victor duties. Now that the 60th Hunger Games is here and she is forced to be mentor for this year's game. However for the first time she actually get a tribute that think he has a chance to survive the games. Trying to write a backstory to the two Morphlings in Catching Fire because I needed to know more about them when I reread the series.

Meadowlark27 :: ao3, tumblr

Popular fic: The Meek Shall Inherit the Eldest Everdeen-The boys all wanted Katniss at the slag heap. But Peeta Mellark just wanted Katniss.

morgswrites/booklover2019-ao3, wattpad

Popular Fic: Blooming in the Spring Summary: I am empty and want nothing more than to drown it all out--all of the fear, the guilt. The guilt. There is so much of it, all the time. Guilt for those I've killed. For those who I could not save. They haunt me every second of every day, always there, always in the back of my mind clawing their way forward. Today, it is Finnick. Yesterday, Cinna. The day before that, Castor. Prim. Always Prim. ~ In the months following the fall of the Panem's Capitol, Katniss Everdeen is continuing to fight a battle-this time against herself. After surviving two Hunger Games and leading a revolution, losing countless loved ones along the way, Katniss is forced to learn how to live on with her trauma and how to navigate a new life with the boy that saved her life.

Pookieh :: ao3, ffnet, tumblr

Popular Fic: First Impressions-Her whole life, Katniss Everdeen had been raised to believe her only goal in life was to find a suitable husband and marry. Upon meeting the standoffish Peeta Mellark, she could not be more put off by the notion of marriage. However, unbeknownst to her, there is a reason behind Peeta's demeanor, if only she chose to look beyond her biased first impression. Hunger Games/Pride & Prejudice cross-over.

rarepairheathen :: ao3, tumblr

Popular Fic: Positive-In AU Panem after Katniss winner of the 74th reality TV show “The Hunger Games” she finds herself in a world of trouble.

sakurakyouko-ao3, tumblr, main blog

Popular Fic: As Long As I'm Burning Summary: Johanna Mason-centric, canon-compliant fic, spanning from the 71st Hunger Games all the way through to the end of Mockingjay. Mostly gen; the romance is a feature, but not the central focus

winryofresembool :: ao3, tumblr

Popular Fic: Cheese Buns and Garlic Cakes-Peeta finally gets a chance to talk with his childhood crush when she shows up at his door to sell some ingredients for his pastries.

[percontaion-points]

Court chapters 128-131

Click to see the rest of the snark & image descriptons

Chapter 128

Hudson curses, long and low and British…

Unless he’s speaking Cockney, there’s literally no reason why Grace wouldn’t be able to understand him. 

She’s nowhere near the water, but that doesn’t seem to matter. Because the bugs have found her, too.

Chapter 128 summary: As the group stands in absolute pitch black, so dark that not even the vampires can see anything, they feel things slithering over them. Flint eventually uses his fire to light the area. Despite the fact that it’s bright now, they can’t see anything, but can still feel the slithering. Macy finds the candles in her bag, and passes them out. They put them around the room so that their hands will be free. 

Grace then realises that there’s a statue in the middle of the room. It’s of an angel sitting on a pile of rocks, with tiny humans crawling up to the angel. There’s also a waterfall cascading from the rocks, and a pool of water. She’s really drawn to the statue… like supernaturally drawn. Hudson physically knocks her to the ground, but this causes Grace to go into a panic attack, for some reason. 

He then quickly yanks her up, and starts trying to brush a bunch of insects off from her. When she realises what’s happening, she naturally wants to scream. But Hudson tells her not to scream, that it’ll “alert them”. He tells her that he’s trying to get them to safety, but not if she screams. 

He tells the others that they have to go to the corner of the room. But then Eden, on the other side from where Grace and Hudson are, starts to jump up and down and scream, because she’s also covered in bugs. 

Chapter 129

I’m within thirty feet and about to extend my wings again so I can slow down enough to get a good look at the statue when Jaxon shouts, “Watch out!” I glance over my shoulder—and scream.

Chapter 129 summary: There’s a loud, unholy groan, and the bugs start to leave everybody. Then something grabs Grace. Hudson tries to leave with her, but the thing has him, too. Even with his vampire powers, he still can’t really get away from it. Grace takes to the air to try and help him out. 

Now airborne, she can see everything. There’s a shadow all around the perimeter of the area, and it’s forcing everybody towards the pool, while also trying to grab and drag them into its shadow. Most of the rest of the chapter is Grace and Hudson trying to help the others out, who keep getting closer and closer towards the pool.. But it seems like a futile exercise.

Chapter 130

She aims her wand at it and says something I can’t hear—and then the potion bursts into a million tiny shards of brightness, bathing this entire half of the arena in light. And all hell breaks loose.

Chapter 130 summary: Grace is now being chased by shadow-birds, since the thing on the ground can’t get her. She gets too close to the angel statue, and gets kind of hypnotised again, which allows the birds to catch up to her and start attacking. Hudson can’t do anything to help, since they’re not actually physical, so his powers don’t work on them. 

Grace struggles to think for a second, and then asks Flint if he can’t use fire to blast the shadows away. He does, but it only makes them worse. 

Then Hudson remembers something that Macy’s aunt Viola mentioned: that she’s good at shadow magic. So Grace asks her cousin to use one of the potions she got from her aunt. Macy fumbles in her bag for a second, and the chapter ends on a cliffhanger as Macy activates the potion. 

Chapter 131

She flies around a couple more times, building a wall of ice nearly two feet thick at the base of the fountain before she widens her flight, freezing the remaining bugs on the ground, too. Eventually, all the bugs are dead.

Chapter 131 summary: Macy’s/Viola’s magic worked, and the shadows all leave. But in their absence, the bugs come crawling out from the pond. By the thousands. Grace, Eden, and Flint take to the air, but that leaves everybody else to run around in the literal carpet of writhing insects. Yuck. 

Mekhi slips and falls, and then everybody else on the ground is down for the count after a little bit. The dragons go around and start blasting everything with ice, but the bugs are still coming out from the pond. Grace tells Eden to freeze the pond, so she does. And the bugs finally stop. 

[promenadewithme]

Heyy, congratulations on 50 followers! Could you write something for Finnick Odair (fluff with a little bit of angst?) based on the lyrics "How would you feel, if I told you I loved you? It's just something that I want to do, I'll be taking my time, spending my life, Falling deeper in love with you, So tell me that you love me too" from 'How would you feel' with a female reader. Please make whatever changes you want, absolutely adore all your writing :))

Ok so I loved this request because I love Finnick so much!! I really hope you like this! I'm sorry I took a bit longer to write this, I had a lot of uni work and studying to do this week.

requested by @boxofsilentwords

This is my first Finnick fic, so I'm nervous... Any and all feedback is more than welcome!

Pairing: Finnick Odair x Female! Reader

Song: How Would You Feel - Ed Sheeran

Warnings: Mentions of killing (nothing graphic), swearing, the hunger games, pining, fluff. Just before the 75th Hunger Games (Catching fire book/movie), but I changed the plot a bit so it would fit the story, Mags doesn’t go with Finnick, the reader does. 

Word Count: 1,2k

Divider made by me on @promenadewithme-graphics​

How Would You Feel

There were soldiers surrounding all the victors as you got up on the platform. Your whole body was shaking. ‘Why is this happening? I already won! I’m not supposed to be here’. You looked to your right and saw your best friend, Finnick Odair, and 3 other male tributes. To your left was Annie Cresta and Mags, who was squeezing your hand.

“As always, ladies first!” said the district 4 escort with a wild grin. You don’t understand how they slept at night, sending people off to fight to their deaths every year, watching like it’s fiction. These were real people, who had families, lives, dreams. You had dreams. 

The escort grabbed one of the envelopes and walked back to the microphone.

“Let’s see...” he opened it and with glee he exclaimed “(y/n) (y/l/n)! Come on over, dear!” 

You looked at Finnick with desperation in your eyes before giving Mags’ hand one last squeeze and walking away. You felt like the world around you was shrinking, like there was no air to breathe. The escort’s voice was but a whisper until your heard what you dreaded more than your own death.

“Finnick Odair!” you looked at your best friend with fear in your eyes. Most would be happy to go into the arena with an ally, but this was Finn. This was your Finn. Well, you couldn’t exactly call him yours, you two were just friends. But you have always loved him. Despite his many lovers, you always stood by him, hoping he would see you. He never did.

“May the odds be ever in your favour.” 

‘And let the hunger games begin’ you thought, looking over at Finnick. He was looking back at you with a plain face, but you could see the pure terror in his eyes. ‘The arena messes with all of us, no matter how tough or brave you are. What happens when you go in twice?’

“And those two are Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark from District 12, they won last year’s game.” depicted your escort. You and Finnick were staying at the tributes building. Fourth floor for district 4, as per usual. Over the past days you had come to terms with the fact that you were going back into the arena. That didn’t mean you weren’t scared shitless.

“What else do you know about them?” asked the man. You had watched the games last year. For the first time, you actually liked the victors. So you exposed what you knew.

“Katniss is a hunter, excellent with a bow and arrow, great survival instincts. Peeta is very strong and good at camouflage. The two of them are getting married. Well... at least they were before all this.” you frowned and Finnick scoffed.

“Do you seriously believe that they are in love? They must be jumping with joy that they get to call it off.” he shook his head.

“What do you mean? You saw the games last year, they are obviously in love. They were going to die together.” you refuted, turning to face him.

“Please! The two tributes that are chosen are actually secretly love each other to the point that they would die for one another, they both win the game and live happily ever after? This is the real world, (y/n). These things don’t happen.”

Your heart tightened, but he was right. The couple had given you hope that maybe Finnick would love you too, that even the worst situations could bring some sort of happiness. You now realised it wouldn’t happen. Your love was unrequited, the two of you were going to the arena, but only one of you would come out. If both of you weren’t killed, that is.

“You’re right, they don’t.” you frowned. Your escort continued to talk about the games and how to look good in the eyes of the public, but you didn’t care. It’s not like you’d make it out alive a second time. You barely did the first, in the 66th hunger games.

You went in a year after Finnick, you were so young and so was he. Maybe that's why the two of you bonded in the first place, having to be strong so early in life isn't something easy. Having to carry the weight of killing that young isn't either.

"Excuse me." you muttered before going to your room, Finnick following suit.

"What's wrong?" he demanded.

"What's wrong? Are you seriously asking me that? What's wrong?!" you exclaimed. "What's wrong is that we already went through this. What's wrong is that this happens every fucking year and no one does anything to stop it. What's wrong is that I am terrified that I'll die, or even worse, that you'll die. Because I don't think I can live without you." tears were streaming down your face as you continued, voice getting lower with each sentence "What's wrong is that I am head over heels in love with you, have been for years now by the way, and you never even noticed me."

You gasped and covered your mouth. What have I done? you thought as Finnick looked at you in shock.

"What?" he mumbled.

"Nothing, just please forget I ever said anything." you begged, going into the bathroom. Yet again, Finnick followed you.

"You love me?" he gawked.

"No?" you tried answering, but it came out sounding like a question. You wanted to dig a hole where you could hide, you were mortified. But when you looked at Finn, he was grinning.

"You love me!"

"Oh God." you hid your face in your hands "Please don't tease me about this."

You felt a pair of hands on yours, removing them from your face.

"Look at me." he whispered. You hesitated for a second, but did what he said. He was smiling softly at you.

"How would you feel if I told you I loved you?" he asked and it was your turn to be shocked.

"What?"

"It's just something that I want to do. Well, I've been wanting to do it for a while now. I just didn't know you felt the same." he confided and you grinned, but it quickly turned into a frown.

"What do we do? The games- We..." tears were forming in your eyes again. He put his arms around you in a tight hug.

"I'll get us both out, I swear I will." he vowed.

"You can't promise me that, Finn. There can only be one victor."

"There was an exception last year, why can't we do it again? But that's no what I'm planning. There's- " he stopped for a second "I can't tell you right now what I know, but I promise we will get out. And after that," he smiled at you, caressing your face "I'll be taking my time, spending my life, falling deeper in love with you. So tell me that you love me too."

You wanted to argue with him, make him tell you, but you didn't want to ruin the moment. So, you put your head on his chest and let him hold you.

“I love you, Finnick.” you mumbled into his chest, wishing it could last forever. Wishing you didn't have to go back to the arena or at least that the odds would truly be in your favour.

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[katnissmellarkkk]

I decided to make a Sassy / Snarky Peeta Appreciation Post since I often forget just how funny he was throughout the series. I only did The Hunger Games right now because he’s got too many lines that qualify in that book. Catching Fire and Mockingjay will be combined.

-

Back on the District 12 floor, Haymitch and Effie grill us throughout breakfast and dinner about every moment of the day. What we did, who watched us, how the other tributes size up. Cinna and Portia aren’t around, so there’s no one to add any sanity to the meals. Not that Haymitch and Effie are fighting anymore. Instead they seem to be of one mind, determined to whip us into shape. Full of endless directions about what we should do and not do in training. Peeta is more patient, but I become fed up and surly.

When we finally escape to bed on the second night, Peeta mumbles, “Someone ought to get Haymitch a drink.”

- 

“But we’re not star-crossed lovers!” I say.

Haymitch grabs my shoulders and pins me against the wall. “Who cares? It’s all a big show. It’s all how you’re perceived. The most I could say about you after your interview was that you were nice enough, although that in itself was a small miracle. Now I can say you’re a heartbreaker. Oh, oh, oh, how the boys back home fall longingly at your feet. Which do you think will get you more sponsors?”

The smell of wine on his breath makes me sick. I shove his hands off my shoulders and step away, trying to clear my head.

Cinna comes over and puts his arm around me. “He’s right, Katniss.”

I don’t know what to think. “I should have been told, so I didn’t look so stupid.”

“No, your reaction was perfect. If you’d known, it wouldn’t have read as real,” says Portia.

“She’s just worried about her boyfriend,” says Peeta gruffly, tossing away a bloody piece of the urn.

-

“Only . . . no offense, but who cares, Peeta?” I say.

“I do. I mean, what else am I allowed to care about at this point?” he asks angrily. He’s locked those blue eyes on mine now, demanding an answer.

I take a step back. “Care about what Haymitch said. About staying alive.”

Peeta smiles at me, sad and mocking. “Okay. Thanks for the tip, sweetheart.”

It’s like a slap in the face. His use of Haymitch’s patronizing endearment. “Look, if you want to spend the last hours of your life planning some noble death in the arena, that’s your choice. I want to spend mine in District Twelve.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me if you do,” says Peeta. “Give my mother my best when you make it back, will you?”

-

“You here to finish me off, sweetheart?”

I whip around. It’s come from the left, so I can’t pick it up very well. And the voice was hoarse and weak. Still, it must have been Peeta. Who else in the arena would call me sweetheart? My eyes peruse the bank, but there’s nothing. Just mud, the plants, the base of the rocks.

“Peeta?” I whisper. “Where are you?” There’s no answer. Could I just have imagined it? No, I’m certain it was real and very close at hand, too. “Peeta?” I creep along the bank.

“Well, don’t step on me.”

I jump back. His voice was right under my feet. Still there’s nothing. Then his eyes open, unmistakably blue in the brown mud and green leaves. I gasp and am rewarded with a hint of white teeth as he laughs.

-

“I guess all those hours decorating cakes paid off.”

Peeta smiles. “Yes, frosting. The final defense of the dying.”

“You’re not going to die,” I tell him firmly.

“Says who?” His voice is so ragged.

“Says me. We’re on the same team now, you know,” I tell him.

His eyes open. “So, I heard. Nice of you to find what’s left of me.”

-

I lean over and put my good ear to his lips, which tickle as he whispers. “Remember, we’re madly in love, so it’s all right to kiss me anytime you feel like it.”

-

“Look, Peeta, I’m going to roll you into the stream. It’s very shallow here, okay?” I say.

“Excellent,” he says.

-

“Katniss?” Peeta says. I meet his eyes, knowing my face must be some shade of green. He mouths the words. “How about that kiss?”

-

“Trust me. Killing things is much easier than this,” I said. “Although for all I know, I am killing you.”

“Can you speed it up a little?” he asks.

-

“Peeta, you were supposed to wake me after a couple of hours,” I say.

“For what? Nothing’s going on here,” he says. “Besides I like watching you sleep. You don’t scowl. Improves your looks a lot.”

This, of course, brings on a scowl that makes him grin.

-

“Well, there’s more swelling, but the pus is gone,” I say in an unsteady voice.

“I know what blood poisoning is, Katniss,” says Peeta. “Even if my mother isn’t a healer.”

-

“They sound like you,” says Peeta. I had almost forgotten he was there.

“Oh, no, Peeta. They work magic. That thing couldn’t have died if it tried,” I say. But then I bite my tongue, realizing what that must sound like to Peeta, who is dying, in my incompetent hands.

“Don’t worry. I’m not trying,” he jokes. “Finish the story.”

-

“I can see why that day made you happy.”

“Well, I knew that goat would be a little gold mine,” I say.

“Yes, of course I was referring to that, not the lasting joy you gave the sister you love so much you took her place in the reaping,” says Peeta dryly.

-

“What was that you were saying just before the food arrived? Something about me . . . no competition . . . best thing that ever happened to you . . .”

“I don’t remember that last part,” I say, hoping it’s too dim in here for the cameras to pick up my blush.

“Oh, that’s right. That’s what I was thinking,” he says. “Scoot over, I’m freezing.”

-

“I told you, he hates me!” I say, but I can’t help laughing at the image of Haymitch becoming my new pal.

“Only sometimes. When he’s sober, I’ve never heard him say one negative thing about you,” says Peeta.

“He’s never sober!” I protest.

“That’s right. Who am I thinking of? Oh, I know. It’s Cinna who likes you. But that’s mainly because you didn’t try to run when he set you on fire,” says Peeta. “On the other hand, Haymitch . . . well, if I were you, I’d avoid Haymitch completely. He hates you.”

-

I cover his mouth with my hand, but I’m laughing. “Stop! Cato could be right outside our cave.”

He grabs my hand away. “What do I care? I’ve got you to protect me now,” says Peeta, pulling me to him.

-

“Oh, no,” I whisper, taking in the metal-and-plastic device that has replaced his flesh.

“No one told you?” asks Caesar gently. I shake my head.

“I haven’t had the chance,” says Peeta with a slight shrug.

“It’s my fault,” I say. “Because I used that tourniquet.”

“Yes, it’s your fault I’m alive,” says Peeta.

-

[fictionadventurer]

I like your post about the Hunger Games and agree with most of it, but I still think the love triangle was unnecessary and people are right to criticize it. Collins could have very easily written Gale as the best friend and Peeta as her main love (based on endgame choices) or vice versa I don't even care since I'm not a big shipper of either. But she did introduce the unnecessary drama that overall did not add much to the plot, and it only took away focus. So I think I understand that crit.

Once upon a time, I might have agreed with you. These are good books, important books, and we don’t need to defile this war epic by shoving in teenage-hormone love-triangle dramatics. Then I reread the series, and I was astonished at how, for the most part, the love story is inextricably intertwined with the action-adventure elements. You can’t take out the love-triangle elements without creating a very different book with a very different message. That love-triangle, far from defiling the war story, elevates it into something better.

It starts almost immediately in the first book. We see how Katniss has a deep friendship with Gale, something that could turn into romance, except that she doesn’t dare to go down that path. There’s no place for marriage, and definitely not for new children, in their broken world. She only has energy for day-to-day survival. And once Katniss goes into the Hunger Games, romance is definitely off the table. She needs to harden her heart and make no human connections with the people around her if she wants to have even the slimmest chance of making it back home to her family. In a lesser book, she’d be right–there’d be no goopy romance to distract us from the hard-bitten survival epic that the Hunger Games is supposed to be.

But then Peeta declares his love for her. Suddenly, she’s part of an epic romance on national television. She wants nothing to do with this strategy–love makes you look weak. (And doesn’t that sound a lot like people who criticize the YA love triangle?) But Haymitch counters that it makes her desirable to the audience, and suddenly the thing that had seemed so burdensome becomes necessary to her survival. She needs to play the game–and once they’re in the arena, she needs to figure out if it is a game to Peeta. Peeta has already shown himself capable of manipulating the emotions of all of Panem–is it possible that he’s manipulating her?

This is the real brilliance of the first book’s romance. It doesn’t distract from the main conflict–it is the main conflict. Like so many other teenage girls, Katniss asks herself, “Does this teenage boy like me?”, but in this case the answer is literally a matter of life and death. If he loves her, she can trust him to help her survive. If he doesn’t, he could kill her at any time.

By the time she finds out that his love is real, she has to fake romantic feelings toward him to draw in sponsors. Now she’s manipulating his emotions to survive, and she can’t hope to untangle what’s real and what’s fake in this manufactured mess of a reality show. But Peeta’s influence has shown her that love isn’t pointless in the Hunger Games–it’s the only way for them to truly fight back. She chooses love for Peeta–whether romantic or not–over her own life, and that’s the only reason that, for the first time in history, two victors manage to beat the Capitol at their own game. Katniss won not by being the best warrior, but by showing love. The love story wasn’t a distraction–it was the solution.

It’s only in Catching Fire that she has to deal with the consequences of that. She was willing to die for Peeta, but she’s not sure she wants to live with him, especially since their relationship started under such unreal circumstances. She’d much rather leave the Games–and Peeta–behind and return to the life she knew before. That life included Gale, and Katniss is, for the first time, willing to consider him as a romantic partner. If her romance with Peeta was fake, is it possible that she could have real romance with her best friend?

This is the point where the love triangle comes into full swing, and I’ll admit this is the book where it’s integrated most clumsily. It seems like Katniss is taking some unnecessary risks in pursuing a relationship with Gale, and the plot sometimes comes to a screeching halt so Katniss can think about her emotions. But even if the plot integration isn’t as smooth as it was in the first book, the thematic relevance of the love triangle is still spot-on. Katniss has to think about what she wants–cling to her old life or dive into this new post-Hunger Games world? Does love have a place in this world at war? And when we think about the question in that way, the sloppy integration of the love story into the main action plot is kind of the point. Katniss may be instigating a war, but she’s still a teenage girl. She still has emotions, but she’s being forced to hide or fake so many of them that she doesn’t know who she is, what she wants, or who she wants to be. How can she discover her identity, hold onto her humanity, in the middle of a war?  

Mockingjay is where we get the answer to those questions. With Peeta imprisoned in the Capitol and the war underway, Katniss is saved from having to make an immediate decision about her romance. She echoes every romance-hating fan’s thoughts when she says:

The very notion that I’m devoting any thought to who I want presented as my lover, given our current circumstances, is demeaning.

There’s a war going on! There’s no time for love triangles! But it’s only when she’s not being forced to pursue romance with Peeta that she can really evaluate her relationship with Gale–and she’s finding that it’s not as strong as she thought. When she needs advice, she gets it from Prim, not Gale. When she needs someone who understands the trauma of killing, she goes to Finnick or Johanna. Now that Katniss and Gale don’t have the shared bond of having to care for their families–who are kept safe and fed by District 13–they’re finding that they don’t have much else in common. Katniss is mistrustful of Coin, while Gale is part of her inner circle. Katniss kills only when she has to during the war, while Gale treats weapon design as a fun challenge. This exploration of their relationship isn’t a distraction from the main plot. They’re what make the main plot mean something. This is the lens through which Katniss considers her views on violence, on war, on life, on what the point of their fight is. She and Gale literally have arguments about utilitarian principles! It’s only by exploring and then severing this leg of the love triangle that Katniss finds out who she is and what she really believes.

Collins couldn’t explore these issues in the same way if either Gale or Peeta wasn’t presented as a romantic interest. The nature of eros is desire, and the whole point of the Peeta vs. Gale question is Katniss figuring out what she wants out of life. She needs to be drawn to both of them, in the same kind of relationship, if the question and answer are to mean anything. Does Katniss want her old life, with Gale as the most important person, with his anger driving her to fight for survival by any means necessary? Or does she want a new life with Peeta, where they live for something beyond mere survival? Which man, which philosophy, does she want to devote her life to? If Peeta was the love interest and Gale was only the best friend, she could have both in her life. But you can’t resolve the trilogy’s central question by having Katniss compromise. Choosing one side means she can’t choose the other–and the only relationship that requires such an exclusive choice is a love triangle. Far from distracting from the main plot, the love triangle is what elevates it, takes it beyond a war story where the only question is how the characters will survive, and makes it into a story that tells us how the characters are going to live.