#in this game there are no winners just a lot of trauma

[reireichu]

We'll forever have the scars.

Part VII. miss universe.

Rhaenyra likes the idea of someone young and beautiful, someone like an ornament she can display to the world, flaunting all sense of propriety. Sophie understands that in a way, because Rhaenyra enjoys oversized blazers and Vitalumiere foundation and she also likes to win. She likes to surround herself by comfort and beautiful things, because that is what her father has made clear since birth, that all those beautiful, precious things are hers by right.

All, except the one.

I think I could make some commentary on how psychologically messed up Sophie is by the past and by everyone in her life, but at this point, why would I write that commentary when I can just watch as she and Aegon just get really fucking unhinged.

rip my soul, i need baby jebus to forgive me for how fucking terrible this.

We'll forever have the scars. @ AO3

[teeny-tiny-revenge]

It's home cinema manufacturing time! 🏴‍☠️ Gonna put my pirate show on my shelf! (I'm doing an Arts and Crafts Project and I'm making it everyone's problem.)

After seeing how much they cost, I abandoned the idea of getting a Blu-ray writer for now. For the time being, good old DVDs is what it's going to be! My TV is old and not very big, so DVD resolution is gonna be fine.

It's been ages since I last burned a DVD. For the full experience, I'm gonna create nice menus and pretty sleeves for the boxes. Graphic design is my passion! Um.

Well. First needed to find a program to do stuff with. I'm a Linux guy, so I'm using Devede. (Which is free, btw. In case someone else wants to do a low cost spot of putting pirate show on the shelf.)

DVDs fit a maximum of 120 minutes of video. So, four episodes, I thought. But after a quick attempt, the program refused to do more than three (maybe because of the menu also taking up space, and four episodes cutting pretty close to the 120 min mark?). Anyway, three episodes per disc it is. It's a pretty nice runtime for watching the entire disc, IMO. An hour and a half, and then you can return to reality to realise you should probably eat something, or go to bed because it's midnight.

OFMD with its current two seasons has a total of eighteen episodes, which is divisible by three. You get the following setup:

Disc 1: Pilot, A Damned Man, The Gentleman Pirate - That's pretty good, Stede's introduction to piracy all on one disc!

Disc 2: Discomfort in a Married State, The Best Revenge is Dressing Well, The Art of Fuckery - All bangers. Great to watch together, our boys meet and shenanigans happen!

Disc 3: This is Happening, We Gull Way Back, Act of Grace - Many romantic moments, lots of great scenes, shit hits the fan at the end there. Alright!

Disc 4: Wherever you go, there you are, Impossible Birds, Red Flags - ... Pain and angst! What have I done!?! The disc of horrors. Gotta make sure to have tissues at hand when I watch this. But hey, it also has messy bun Ed! Small mercies.

Disc 5: The Innkeeper, Fun and Games, The Curse of the Seafaring Life. - Another disc with all winners. I love all these episodes so much! (You can watch this disc to recover from the trauma of the previous one!) But seriously, this one slaps.

Disc 6: Calypso's Birthday, Man on Fire, Mermen - Great combination again. Season finale! Love and excitement!

... Honestly, except for the psychological damage of putting all the most painful episodes together, this is coming out pretty cool. Says a lot about how good the show is. I actually really love all the episodes (yes even the painful angsty episodes of massive depression). Thinking about this little project really reminded me how much I love this entire show.

So, we got a tracklist, now menus, then we can burn this stuff!

I did the menu backgrounds in GIMP. Realised I have a big folder full of screenshots I took myself, screenshots someone else took and posted on Tumblr, official promo pics for the show, and I have no idea anymore where most of them are from, because I named the files according to what's on them. Which is useful for when you want to find pics (Need a picture of cursed suit Stede? I have files named that, easy peasy!), but not so great if you wanted to give credit to whoever took a given pic you used. (It's probably @sherlockig or @ofmd-ann or @blakbonnet. Please feel credited, your beautiful screens and gifs brighten my day, and some of them are now probably part of my DVD menus. Shrunk down and cropped, but, yeah.)

I originally wanted to structure my menus as having the title of an episode, then some pics from it, then the next episode, then pics from that, and so forth, but I couldn't convince the program to give me the necessary padding between the menu items, so I ended up just putting the episode images below the menu. Still like it.

Anyway, DVD menus can also play sound! Behold a crappy video of my beautiful creation (provided entirely for sound):

It plays Gnossienne N°5!

More crappy pics of my other disc menus:

Gonna make them some nice sleeves next. Some day. Gotta make sure they all work properly first. So. I'll be on my sofa, watching my DVDs. With menus! (Edit: here are!)

[redwinetalks]

I Won’t Let You Sink

Chapter 1

Word Count: 4k

Pairing: Finnick x Fem!OC

Warnings: angst, thoughts of some self harm, miss girl has to sell her body

Summary: Silk Fabelle is the winner of the 68th annual Hunger Games and she’s finishing up her victory tour. She meets Finnick then returns home leading to a lil chit chat with Snow.

*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°

The Capitol was the complete opposite of District 8. Full of bright colors and energy instead of dull and lifeless. Everything is perfectly placed and decorated. Artistically groomed trees and bushes. The Capitol elite expect me to think of this as a blessing. How much of an honor it is to get to visit. To be invited to these lavish parties and be dressed to the nines. But with each conversation I’m dragged into, I’m counting the seconds until I can go home and no longer be stuck with the people who use my trauma as a way to get off.

“Did you hear me?” I’m snapped back to reality by the woman who’s been speaking to me about my victory. Her blue and purple hair is tied up in an intricate bun. Her eyeshadow goes all the way to her temples and her eyebrows are adorned with jewels. To match her eccentric look, she’s wearing a bright purple gown that cinches her waist so much I wonder how she’s even breathing.

“Yes, sorry. I couldn’t help getting distracted by how beautiful everything looks tonight.”

“Oh, of course! I can’t even imagine having to live in that dreary district of yours. This must be such a culture shock. But, back to what I was saying. Your games! You really surprised us all. I mean, no one guessed that the little girl from 8 could win. A lot of people lost their bets after your victory. Don’t worry though, no one could stay upset about it. Not with how precious you are! You really are a doll just like they say!” A doll. That’s the pet name they’ve adorned me with. The Capitol’s doll they could dress up and play with however they so please.

“You’re going to be quite popular! But I must leave you, I need to get a little drink.” She gives me a wink and walks away. Im sure she’s off to purge and then continue to gorge herself.

When she’s gone I close my eyes and let out the deep sigh I’ve been holding. With each Capitol aristocrat I talk to I feel more and more suffocated. I grab a glass of wine and then move myself away from the crowd. This party is supposed to be dedicated to me to congratulate my huge “victory”. No one expected me to win. District 8 has a pretty poor relationship with the Capitol because of our rebelliousness. This kept me from getting any help from sponsors. It also didn’t help that I don’t look very strong, I’m shorter than most people my age, and the jobs back home don’t prepare us in the slightest for what’s to come in the arena. That’s not all true, though. I gained enough strength by carrying large amounts of supplies to and from the factories. Boxes full of fabric or Peacekeeper uniforms are much heavier than people think. I used my knowledge of different bugs and berries, used to make dyes, to help me keep from poisoning myself in the arena. My mentor Cecilia told me since I know how to sew, stitch, and weave that I have a good eye and a steady hand. She taught me how to make traps that I could use against other tributes or to catch food. She helped me learn how to use throwing knives, her weapon of choice. That proved to be significantly helpful during the bloodbath. The majority of my games I spent hiding. My arena was a rainforest so it wasn’t difficult to disguise myself. I was then able to trick some tributes with poisonous berries or trapping them in a net made up of vines and leaves. I’m sure it was a riveting show for everyone glued to the broadcast. Not at all traumatizing for them, only for the 17 year old.

“Not enjoying the festivities?” I’m slightly startled when he comes up and stands next to me. Finnick O’dair. The so called Capitol “darling” and youngest to ever win the games. “I’m sorry, I’m really sorry. Didn’t meant to catch you off guard.” He laughs.

“And what if I’m not?” I sip my wine and look at him, deadpanned.

“Don’t worry, it only gets worse from here.” He lets out a another light laugh and I hum in response.

“Thanks for the warning. I figured as much.” I think about walking away, but there’s something about him that compels me to stay put. It’s disarming. I don’t figure a Career would be too enjoyable to hang around, yet he has this air to him that I can’t walk away from. Maybe it’s how his tan skin and perfect smile are even more breathtaking in person. I could just be getting hypnotized by his beauty and charm. Which, I’m positive he uses to his advantage. He then turns to face directly in front of me and holds his hand out.

“If you’ll let me, I was hoping I could steal you away for a dance.” He takes my hand and gives it a small peck as I just look at him. I raise my eyebrows in surprise.

“Are you trying to charm me, Finnick O’dair?” He flashes me a perfect smile.

“And what if I am, Silk Fabelle?” He moves his face closer to mine and his voice, as smooth as velvet, is just a whisper. He smells like salty seawater and citrus. The hair on my neck stands up and I can feel the goosebumps creeping up my body. Maybe I am being hypnotized.

“I suppose you can. Hopefully it’ll keep everyone else from talking to me about my riveting games.” I say after clearing my throat and awkwardly adjusting my stance.

“You sure you’re not trying to keep me all to yourself, darling?” I stop and blankly stare at him. He rolls his eyes at me, “I’m kidding. Shall we?” I slowly nod and he escorts me back through the crowd of people.

“So is there a particular reason you decided to make my acquaintance?” I question him. No other previous victors have come to talk with me, at least not yet. It’s just been one vulture after the next. Maybe in his eyes he just saw a damsel in distress that he needed to rescue. He wouldn’t be incorrect per se.

“Maybe I just wanted to finally see your beauty in person. The broadcast is one thing, but there’s nothing like the real deal.” He says when we find a spot on the floor. He takes my waist and gracefully starts to guide me. It’s as if it’s second nature to him. I don’t know how to feel about his flirtations and it makes me a bit uneasy. I don’t know if I can trust him, but I’m not in the games anymore. He’s not another tribute trying to kill me before I kill him first. It sounds like he means what he says, so maybe I’m just overthinking it.

“You sure are quite the charmer, but I’m having a hard time believing that’s the only reason.”

“Oh please, I can’t just dance with a pretty girl? Must I have a motive?” I can feel his thumb rubbing my back. That plus the dancing is making me dizzy. My head feels like it’s spinning, but it could just be the wine causing that effect.

“Do you?” I press him, trying to remain focused, and he looks at me so softly.

“I just thought you might’ve been struggling to stay afloat. This place..these people..they’ll drown you. To them we aren’t real people we’re just toys. Entertainment. I remember how I felt when this was my party and I guess I just didn’t want you to have to go through that alone.” The playful banter has dropped and he speaks so genuinely. He’s not at all what I expected. I’ve only ever looked at careers with aversion. The way they suck up to the Capitol and get almost doted on in return. But they’re still district citizens. Even if they are on better terms with the Capitol, it doesn’t mean they aren’t part of this continuous punishment. They’re pawns in this game like everyone else, they just play differently.

“So you’re telling me no one whisked you away to save you at your victory party” I tilt my head when asking.

“Afraid not, sweetheart.” Even with his flirtatious banter back on I can see that there’s a sadness in his eyes. Like this confidence that he radiates is just an illusion to keep him from sinking. After winning the games they make you think you finally get to be free. You can finally be happy and you don’t have to live in fear. But the games never end. I can see it from the way Finnick looks at me. After you win the torment just continues. There is no freedom.

“I’m sorry you were alone. I appreciate, though, you being here for me even though you don’t know me. I hope..maybe..I can do the same for you.” I say that last sentence quietly. As if I’m not sure if I want him to hear it. I’m not quite sure if I mean it. He squeezes my hand a bit and softly smiles. His dimples showing only slightly.

“I can already see my days getting brighter.” He releases my waist once the song ends and brushes a hand through his golden blonde hair. The lights reflecting off of him in the most picture perfect way. “Unfortunately, I have to go, but it was lovely meeting you Silk.” He kisses my hand once more and walks away after I say goodbye. I’m left feeling frozen in place like a trance has just been lifted. Then, almost immediately I’m being pulled into another meaningless conversation with Capitol citizens. I try to stay present to what’s going on around me, but my mind keeps going back to Finnick O’dair.

*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°

I’m on the train with Cecilia, finally going home after the victory tour. I’ve been sitting at the table moving my fork around my breakfast, too distracted to eat. I haven’t been able to push Finnick out of my mind. There is just something about him that is so alluring and mysterious that my teeth clench from trying to figure him out. I can’t help getting frustrated at myself for thinking only of him. Maybe it’s just because he’s so different from anyone I’ve ever met. His aura is so captivating and it’s like he knows just how to wrap you around his finger.

“How was last night?” Cecilia comes up behind me and takes my plate.

“I wasn’t finished.” I turn and look at her and she rolls her eyes.

“You’ve been pushing that blueberry around with your fork for 10 minutes. You’re finished.” Annoyingly, she’s right. I’m not even hungry anymore. I felt full after just a couple bites. I’ve only been able to eat small meals since leaving the arena.

“Last night was wonderful” she lets out a small laugh at my sarcastic reply.

“Did you meet any of the past victors? It’ll help having some of them close by.” I look down at the table where my plate was.

“I met Chaff and Seeder. They were nice, well, Chaff was a bit..overly friendly..but Seeder was kind. I was told Haymitch would be an ass, but I thought he was alright. Maybe just a bit abrasive.” I shrug. Cecilia hums in response while tapping her fingers on the table. I slightly glance up at her and she looks off and smiles.

“You seem to be leaving a certain person out.” I just look at her. “He’s much more genuine than people give him credit for. You should continue to get to know him. You’re still making allies you know, it doesn’t matter that you’re no longer in the arena.” I nod and turn to look out the window.

The only good thing about being on this train for so long is that I can look at all the trees. I can get lost in them. It brings me some sense of peace with my thoughts being so loud. I don’t know how I’m supposed to go back to normal. How I’m supposed to just go home and move on. How am I supposed to sleep peacefully each night when there are kids that are dead because of me? I’m not. That’s exactly the point. I’m supposed to feel like my insides are eating me alive and have these nightmares. That’s how Snow wants us to feel. He knows that the games will leave you forever traumatized and he loves it. He’s sick and cruel and twisted.

My nails have drawn blood on my arm from gripping myself so tightly. When I get up to grab a napkin, I realize we’re arriving at District 8. I thought I’d be excited to be home but I just feel numb. Nothing is going to be the same and it terrifies me.

*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°

“You’re home” My mother says so softly. She runs up to me and wraps me in a tight hug when I walk into our new house in Victor’s Village. She cradles my head and rubs my back. The comfort she brings me is instant and I feel like I could collapse into her arms. Maybe I will be okay as long as she’s with me.

For my whole life I’ve only had my mother. I don’t remember my dad. He died when I was very young, but I’ve never felt like something was missing without him. I don’t feel his absence. When my father was 16 his older brother was reaped into the games and his death was so painful, that he swore to never have kids. He didn’t want to bring a child into a world where they could be put through something so heinous and vile, but he met my mother and accidents happen. My mother was anxious of course, but she still wanted to have me. She told me that when she realized she was pregnant with me, my father changed. Like some switch had been flipped. He became a completely different person. He was no longer kind, he drank, and he would have these sudden fits of rage. Mom tried to stay with him. To see if he would go back to the way he was. To see if he was just processing everything in some excessively horrible way, but he only got worse when I was born. So she kicked him out. When I was a bit older she told me that he had been shot by a Peacekeeper for some drunken altercation just days later.

My father didn’t want me and I don’t need him. I don’t feel his absence. All I feel is the love and protection that my mother has given me since I was born. She has never made me feel unwanted or like a burden. She is the strongest person I know and means more to me than anything in this world. If it wasn’t for her, I know I wouldn’t have gotten out of that arena.

“I missed you” I muffle into her shoulder. She puts her hands on my face and moves me to look directly at her.

“I missed you, too, my beautiful girl.” She then kisses me on the forehead, “Come with me. I want to show you want I’ve done with the place and then we’ll eat dinner.” She ushers me around the house showing me the different curtains and blankets she’s made. Most of the blankets she knit in our old home while I was in the arena. She told me that was the only thing she could do to keep from losing herself. While I was on my victory tour she sewed the curtains and a new bedspread for me. It’s a beautiful plum color and it makes the room much more cozy and inviting. Mom and I always try our best to make our home full of color to contrast how grey the district is. That way whenever we get home from a long day in the factories it’s an immediate breath of fresh air. We can almost instantly feel the dread of the day lift off our shoulders.

“You seemed to keep yourself busy” I say as she shows me the pillows in the living room.

“What else was I supposed to do to pass the time?” I laugh and smile so lovingly at her. It’s the first time I’ve been happy since getting reaped. I feel an overwhelming amount of relief that I never thought I’d get.

When she’s finished with the tour I follow her into the kitchen and sit at the table. We eat in a comfortable silence. Mom has always known whether I wanted to talk or not. She never tries to pry unless she knows it’ll help. It’s the first time in the while no one has expected anything of me.

A few days pass and I finally start to get a routine going. My mom goes off to work, thankfully not in the Peacekeeper factory, a different one where she makes an assortment of clothing and I start my morning by going just past the border to the shoreline. It’s the only place where grass grows since it’s far away from all the industrial fumes. I like to sit on the rocky beach and listen to the waves. I bring my sketchbook to work on designing clothes to make for the school children since I have the money to now. It’s something to do to keep me busy and help me feel like I’m doing something to help our community.

The walk home is long, but peaceful. I say hello to those moving on from one job to the next. One of the worst things that the Capitol does do the citizens in 8 is make everyone work long, grueling hours. When school lets out for the day the kids don’t get to go home and play. If there’s free time it means there’s time to work. Our labor is exploited and it’s unforgivable.

When I walk into the house it feels wrong. The air isn’t peaceful, it’s unsettling. It’s smells sickly sweet like roses. Everything seems to be in order, but the door to the study is ajar. I put down my bag and slowly walk through the hall making my way to the open door.

“There’s no need to sneak around in your own home. Please, come join me.” His voice is ice cold and it sends shivers up my spine.

“President Snow” I stiffly walk inside the study, “I apologize. I wasn’t expecting anyone to be home.” He’s sitting at the desk that hasn’t been touched since we moved it.

“Sit, I have some matters to discuss with you.” He gestures to the chair on the other side of the desk and I sit down, “I hope you enjoyed your victory tour.”

“Yes, sir. I did.” I clear my throat my uncomfortably and cross my arms to try and ground myself. I attempt to keep myself from digging my nails into my skin.

“Good, I’m pleased to hear that. I’ve heard lovely things about you. You’re well liked. Many of my colleagues have taken an interest towards you.”

“An interest, sir?” A pit opens in my stomach.

“Yes, Miss Fabelle. A sizable interest, in fact. And this is something that I cannot ignore. You see, these are the kinds of colleagues that sponsor the games and events such as your victory party.” He says as if it’s something I even wanted. He stands and starts to pace around the desk. The overwhelming smell of roses wafts back and forth with each turn. I can feel the nausea starting to grow. “The desire for you has grown quite large and I would hate to disappoint. I understand where they’re coming from. You are indeed a beautiful young woman. So, will you cooperate?” I could’ve gagged right then. He hasn’t said it outright, but I understand him clearly. These people want me. They want my body. His sinister smile grows when he notices how much I’m gripping onto my arms.

“I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” I say looking down at my lap. I know I don’t, but a small part of me hopes that if I ask he won’t make me. But that’s just a silly dream. To believe that I could have a choice in any of this. My body isn’t mine. My life isn’t mine. It all belongs to him.

“Of course you have a choice, Miss Fabelle.” He sits back down and my head shoots up to look him in the eye. “But certain choices have consequences. And it would be very unfortunate for perhaps, your mother, to deal with the consequences of your actions.” He sits back down, clearly satisfied with how this talk is going.

The nausea is only getting worse. My mother. He would kill my mother. The only person I have. The only person that I love. Not only is she important to me, she’s important to this district. She’s always been a strong force in the community. She helps those in need in any way she can. She stands up for what she believes in. She’s part of the rebellion that may or may not even come. If something were to happen to her it would end me, but it would also impact so many of those around me. I couldn’t live with myself if something were to happen to her.

“I understand, sir.” I speak so softly, so defeated.

“Good, I’m very pleased.” He stands up to leave, but not before leaving the flower from his coat pocket on the desk. I walk with him to the front door, trying to hold back the tears that are threatening to fall, and he takes a small look around the space. “Thank you for meeting with me, Miss Fabelle. I hope you are enjoying your new home. You seem to have settled right in. It’s very…eclectic. Oh, and I almost forgot to congratulate you on your victory. You did very well. Until next time.” He smiles so sickeningly and then finally leaves. How kind of him to congratulate me. As if him being proud would somehow fill me with such joy and satisfaction.

The nausea finally hits me with full force and I run to the bathroom to empty the contents in my stomach. The smell of stale roses still fills the air and it continues to make me gag. Once I feel well enough to get up, I brush my teeth and head to my room. I don’t even make it to my bed before I collapse, my sobbing overtaking my body. I feel so disgusting. How can this be allowed? How can they force me to kill other people’s children and then this? Is this what they think freedom is? I don’t have to worry about dying anymore, but I have to sell my body. And if I don’t, I have to fear for the life of the person I love most in the world? How am I supposed to do something so vile? How am I supposed to continue to survive like this? I feel like ripping my hair out. Like scratching at my skin until there’s nothing left but bone.

I rush into my bathroom and run a cold shower. I have to calm down. I have to find a way to live with this and keep my mother oblivious. The only way I know how to do that right now is by washing this whole afternoon off of me. Pretending none of it happened. And that’s what I’ll continue to do. When the time comes for me to visit the Capitol again, I’ll just pretend none of it is real. It’s all a dream. A sick, twisted, horrifying dream. And I’ll just have to go from there.

*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°

Thank you so much for reading chapter 1! This is my first ever fanfiction that I’ve written so I know it’s far from perfect. I’m growing with my writing as I go, but I hope you still enjoy it! I appreciate any kind feedback!

tag list <3 (I tagged some of y'all who just liked the related posts so I hope thats okay)

@ghoulbabs @lusy98 @marvelescvpe @simplymurdock @marcyss @miserablebl00d @wife-of-all-dilfs @mrsnancywheeler

Next Chapter!

[redhood414]

Intro: The Games

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌: ̗̀➛

Four princes. One princess. Your father, King Clark Kent of Metropolis made a contract with the King of Gotham, Bruce Wayne. The contract said there will be games for his four sons to win and the one who wins will get your hand in marriage.

Prince Dick Grayson is the eldest; it is said he's kindest, most generous and charming of all off them. Loved by the people and humerous. He'll often talk to random people and if he's out of the castle he gives coins to the poor.

Prince Jason Todd is the second eldest, he's the general of the soldiers and is always a winning leading warrior in battle. He has a trauma since an enemy kingdom, Joker's, had taken him and beaten him to death. Luckily the Lazarus Pit ressecuted him, but ever since he's not who he was before. He's rude, grumpy, angry, rough. But inside he's just a boy who needs to be loved and feel safe.

Prince Tim Drake. The second youngest. He's almost as smart as Merlin, really. He isn't a magician, but Merlin, the advisor of king Bruce, helps him with teaching him a lot of things about herbs and to heal, etc. he's always eager to learn, maybe sometime a bit too much since he always looses track of time. He's kind, but a bit moody. And doesn't really socialise well. He's quite distant and his walls (not literally but figeruly.) make sure it stays that way.

The fourth, last but not least, youngest, prince Damian Al Ghul Wayne. The only biological son of Bruce Wayne. He got first teached by his mother, to be a great warrior. Now he's with his father, learning everything he needs to know by a personal tutor because he refuses to be learning aside Prince Tim. (They have always had beef, it'll get only worse now that you'll arrive :d) He's a gentleman, but cold. He'll try to win you over by his charm but is distant and quite easily jealous too.

The games

1. The sword fights. (They'll have to fight till two winners stay over and the winner from that duel wins that game)

2. The joust. (Where each is on a horse, galloping towards each other with a lance and try to get each other off the horse)

3. Arrow and bow. (It's just bow shooting.)

May the best win your hand in marriage, my dear.

[beingsuneone]

Sunset & Vine

PART ONE | PART TWO

SYNOPSIS: one year was all you had, and the winners of the previous hunger games. You didn’t know them that well, but they were still youre only friends. Now you’re thrown back into the Games with some new confusing feelings.

FANDOM: The Hunger Games

PAIRING(S): Peeta Mallark x Victor!Reader

RATING: G

CHARACTERS MENTIONED: Peeta Mellark, Katniss Everdeen, Haymitch Abernathy, Coriolanus Snow, Johanna Mason, Finnick Odair, Effie Trinket, President Coin, Gale Hawthorne

GENRE/AU: Dystopia, Angst, a very small amount of comfort,

WORD COUNT: 5.2k

WARNINGS: Katniss is slightly OOC, Canon divergent in some ways but not others, CATCHING FIRE AND MOCKINGJAY SPOILERS, Reader won the 74th hunger games and Peeta and Katniss won the 73rd.

A/N: Jjj, I’ve really got to stop writing stories with ending like this. Lemme know if you want part two. FYI!!! Changed a few words that completely changed the context and set up for the next part.

DEDICATIONS: Peeta my beloved

CREDITS: Taylor Swift for the name (Gorgeous - Taylor Swift)

It’s a woman, standing with her back to you— she has similar hair to yours and an almost protective stance to her. A haze of colour surrounds her… oranges, purples and yellows swirled into an indescribable but beautiful mess.

Peeta Mellark may be a fellow victor, and he may be one of your neighbours, but you know nothing about him. Except for this beautiful painting that he gifted you.

She wears a dress that flows in some sort of assumed breeze, and has a hand tentatively braced in her hair; there’s something so familiar about this scene that you can’t place— something familiar about the woman in particular.

You can’t place it.

You run your fingers along the small note that Peeta had left with the painting, hovering over the loopy cursive of his signature; it’s the same on the painting but it’s too beautiful to touch like that.

Last year, you won the seventy-fourth annual hunger games, and became a legend for getting district twelve two wins in a row— right alongside Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark, Who won the seventy-third hunger games.

Thank god the months of parading you around were over and you could settle happily into your gigantic house by yourself.

Well, happily might be an over statement— you had no family, and certainly no friends… unless Haymitch counts but you don’t think he does.

So this painting feels extra special— a warmth in an otherwise cold and unfamiliar home.

“Where should I put it?” Muttering to yourself, you mentally scan the layout of your house; you’d want it to be in a place where you could see it often, but also somewhere where any house guest would be able to see it… yeah. House guests.

After shaking your head uselessly, you settle on hanging it in the entryway. For sure people would see it there.

You’d been putting off doing this for a couple of days, just because you hadn’t had a whole lot of energy to do anything but sit in a chair and half-read a novel.

So, after a few minutes of fiddling and messy calculations, the painting is hung in the entryway.

You take one last glance at the swirling coloured background once more, and then turn away, leaving the comfort and fantasy behind.

……

Victors are supposed to have immunity, they’re supposed to be done with the games for the rest of their miserable, trauma ridden lives.

But the seventy-fifth hunger games brings back all of the worst parts of last year— you know that out of the three other victors, you’re the female they want to get picked. You’re the easy decision, the loner that nobody cares about.

You know the Capitol loves Peeta and Katniss far too much, and you, not enough.

This, stacked on top of everything else the Capitol has put you through… it’s too much.

You’re pulled from your thoughts when there’s a knock at your door.

“Hello?” You say as you open it; Peeta Mellark is standing there with his lip turned down just slightly, his eyes center behind you for a moment before his face softens and lightens.

“Hey. You got the painting.” A smile melts onto his face, and you swear he looks… beyond words when he smiles.

After a long moment of silence, you clear your throat. “What brings you here…?” You stammer awkwardly, cringing at your choice of words.

He sort of— laughs? Chuckles? at you. “We’re talking strategy for the Quarter Quell and we figured we should include you.” His face falls again, and he looks like he’s holding something back.

Your back straightens. “The Quarter Quell isn’t for another few months—”

He nods slowly. “But we’re going to have to do the pre-tour… and they’re pulling names in just a couple weeks.”

The band around his ring finger gleams brightly in the sun, which sends some sort of jealous feeling rolling through you.

You shake your head because you don’t know Peeta Mellark, and, even if he is gorgeous, you don’t get crushes on people you don’t know.

Plus he’s in love and engaged to Katniss Everdeen, even if you did know him well enough to develop a crush.

He glances down, and then quickly yanks the ring off. “It’s, uh— just for the camera’s.” Then he gestures to the painting behind you. “That’s you, you know. I know you’ve never worn a dress like that, but I saw a screencap of you in The Games and inspiration just kind of… hit me.” he trails off at the end and fiddles with the ring in his hand.

“It’s… me?” You say slowly. “We barely know each other, why would you paint me?”

He takes a small breath. “You’re really beautiful, Y/n, I’ve always thought so.”

A breath hitches but you genuinely can’t discern if it’s him or you over the roaring of blood in your ears.

“So…” he starts again. “If you want to join us, we’re heading over to Haymitch’s now.”

“Okay.” You say, sounding more winded than you did before; you stare at him for a few more moments before you step out of the front door and shut it.

You walk silently beside him, trying not to take in his messy blonde hair or pretty blue eyes—and also, failing miserably—

Just as you reach Haymitch’s doorstep, you stop and tug on Peeta’s sleeve to get his attention. “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, Peeta.”

He looks down at you, the air around you charged with some kind of something that you can’t name, and just as he’s about to reach over to you, the door swings open.

“Why are you guys just standing out here?” Katniss says with her nose scrunched, she eyes you up and then eyes Peeta up in a similar fashion.

At least it wasn’t exclusively you.

Both your heads snap toward her, while Peeta smoothly comes up with a reason. “Y/n was feeling nervous, I was just trying to help calm her nerves.”

Haymitch raises an eyebrow from behind Katniss, and gives Peeta a look.

“Hey, Sweetheart.” He says, as Katniss steps aside and lets the two of you in. There’s a tenderness to his voice that you hadn’t realized you missed so much.

“Hi.” The three of you shuffle into what you think was once a living room but it’s chillingly messy in Haymitch’s house.

“Couldn’t we have done this at someone else’s house?” Peeta says, eying the empty bottles on the floor.

“No.” Katniss shakes her head, shooting Haymitch a glare. “Because everytime we have to talk to him, we have to wake him up with a bucket of water.”

You snort. “I’m sorry— a bucket of water?”

Haymitch cuts in. “Why do you think my hair’s wet? I definitely didn’t take a shower.” There's a water stain that makes his shirt sag, and you wonder how you didn’t notice before. Haymitch clears his throat. “Moving on; if it’s Katniss and Peeta then we can still milk the whole star-crossed lover thing— if it’s me or Y/n… that won’t work.”

“Y/n shouldn’t go.” Peeta interjects; you’re taken aback by it.

You fidget with the hem of your shirt. “I really thought I was the best person to go.” You pause, looking up at the three of them. “It’s not like there’s anyone here that will care if I don’t come home.”

Haymitch gives Peeta a scrutinizing look. “Look, Lover-boy, we know you have a crush but that isn’t enough for Katniss to volunteer herself if Y/n gets picked.”

Peeta looks to you and then back to Haymitch. “Katniss and I are the Capitol’s favourite couple right now, if we went we’d probably be much better off in terms of sponsors and parachutes.”

“And you don’t want her to go.” Haymitch gestures in yours and Katniss’s direction.

Peeta sighs but doesn’t deny it. It makes sense that he wouldn’t want his fiancé to go back to the Games.

“Peeta is right,” Katniss starts, “but, Haymitch, if you get picked… Peeta should stay. Either way.”

Peeta shakes his head. “No. I’m not staying.”

You cut in. “There’s no good reason why I should stay.” You’re basically the only clear answer; if you get picked you’ll go, and, if Katniss is picked, you’ll go. “I won’t.”

Now all three of them are staring at you. “If I get picked, Katniss can’t volunteer and if she gets picked, you can’t stop me from volunteering.”

Katniss huffs. “You can’t stop me from volunteering either.”

Really, you could all argue this for hours.

…..

The four of you had never come to a conclusion, and now it’s the day of the Reaping.

Effie stands uncomfortably at the bowl; she doesn’t seem happy about having to pull your names, despite her chipper facade.

“The female tribute for District Twelve is…” she says, digging around in the two slips of paper in the bowl. She finally pulls one out and reluctantly reads it out. “Y/n L/n.” She almost sighs your name.

Katniss’s fingers twitch nervously, like she wants to say something but you shoot her the strongest glare you can muster.

She doesn’t volunteer, and you’re glad for it.

You walk up to the stage, head held high; you know this is the start of the end of your life, so you might as well act more confident than you truly are.

Effie looks at you sadly once you’re settled behind her, and then turns back to the audience. “And… the male tribute for District Twelve is,” she spends another five minutes routing through the two names. “Haymitch Abernathy.” This time her sigh is one of relief.

But the relief does not last long.

“I volunteer!” Peeta says, stepping forward; Haymitch grabs his arm and says something too quiet to hear, and Peeta says something back. His face is full of determination as everyone watches him walk up the stage and stand next to you.

Everyone in your little group wears a look of defeat. Even you.

Only one of you can go home, and you’re going to do your damn best to make sure it’s Peeta Mellark.

…..

“I’m not ready for this.” You say quietly, as you walk down the corridor to your bedrooms on the train. “It’s hardly been a year, Peeta.”

He nods solemnly, not looking at you as you arrive at your door. His is just across the hall.

Peeta gently takes your hand in his and squeezes. “I know. It’s too soon.” He looks angry. “We were never supposed to have to do this again.” He drops your hand before you can reciprocate in any sort of way.

You do feel a little less nauseous though.

“It‘s okay.” You whisper, twitching your fingers and slapping it onto the doorknob. “It’ll be okay.”

Peeta’s eyes rove over you in a scrutinizing manner as though he’s trying to figure some meaning behind your words, but there isn’t one to figure.

Just that it will be okay. Peeta will, if you really just be specific. Peeta will return home, happy and safe.

Ready to live his life with the woman he loves… Katniss.

And you will fade into false glory and distant memory.

…..

“Finnick, Right?” You fidget with your fingers in front of you; Finnick Odair was an attractive man who oozed with confidence and smooth words.

“Want a sugar cube?” He asks slyly, holding one out to you. “They're supposed to be for the horses but— we’re going to die anyway, it won’t matter after that.”

You nod carefully. “Of course, because that would obviously matter if we weren’t already set for death.” You still take the sugar cube from his hand and pop it in your mouth.

You almost gag from it. Pure sugar was… a lot. “Ugh. That’s disgusting.”

Finnick chuckles. “But liberating.”

You shake your head but a smile still spreads across your face. “Liberating indeed, Finnick Odair. My last act of rebellion is eating a sugar cube.”

“Devastating, really. To the Capitol, I mean.” He smiles easily at you, before someone catches his attention and he saunters off.

Claudius Templesmith stood not far from you, crooning about something with one of the older tributes.

The older man— Betee, you think— stood, looking indifferent but also invested in Claudius’s ramblings and unnecessary questions.

You were dreading the questions he’d ask you during your second round of interviews.

The last time was time enough for you.

“What’d he want?” Peeta asks, walking up behind you and pulling your attention away from the other party-goers.

“Oh, you know,” you say flippantly, “sugarcubes, secrets, and sarcasm.”

Peeta’s eyebrows furrow in confusion but the smile remains on his face. “Sounds like an interesting conversation.” He extends his arm to you. “Shall we?”

You sigh. “Not like we have much choice.”

….

“I’d give anything to know what’s going on inside your head.” Peeta says softly, fidgeting with the rope in his hands. You’d both decided that learning how to tie some knots would be beneficial.

You chuff, an awkward laugh. “What do you mean?”

His fingers work steadily, and somewhat clumsily, with the rope; there’s something alluring about how sure he can be with his hands.

It makes you think of the painting in your house— the one that you’ll never see again— how patient he must’ve been to complete such a beautiful piece, how still and sure of himself.

“What are you thinking right now, Y/n?” He looks up at you, with those beautiful blue eyes of his.

You shrug. “I was thinking about…” you trail off, because you absolutely cannot say that you were thinking about his hands. A half-truth will have to do. “Your painting. How I’ll never see it again.”

Hip lips pull into a frown. “You’ll see it again, I’m going to make sure of it.”

Sighing deeply, you stand. “You’re the one who has to go home, Peeta, not me.” He opens his mouth to speak but you cut him off. “It has to be you.”

….

You don’t have the time to argue about it for the next couple of days, you hardly even see each other.

Now, Cinna is preparing you for the arena. You know that everything he gave was meant for Katniss, he had obviously expected it to be her, or that he wouldn’t style you.

He hadn’t been your stylist, but yours had opted out of this year’s games, claiming it was too painful to watch you go back in.

You hadn’t liked her much the first time around, wanted to change you too much in ways that you most definitely did not like.

Cinna, though, you liked him. Though this would be the last time you saw him.

You were dressed in whatever mandatory suit that they designed for this game, a skin tight suit that looked like you were about to go scuba diving.

“It’s time.” Cinna says, glancing back to the tube at the back of the room. You turn back to it.

“Thank you, Cinna.” You say, bowing your head for him. “It was nice getting to know you.”

He smiles half-heartedly. “It was a pleasure, Y/n.”

You exchange a final goodbye and step into the tube. The sixth second countdown begins as the tube starts to ascend.

It's all water, just water and water and water in a large circle around them. There was also thin sand bars that connected the tubes and the Cornucopia, but you knew you wouldn’t be braving that.

Peeta stands three tubes down, with a morphling, a Career and Johanna between you two.

Twenty seconds.

You stare at him desperately, hoping he’ll stick to the plan and swim towards you; you catch his eyes and he smiles reassuringly. It’s not a genuine smile but it still calms you all the same.

Ten seconds.

You ball your fists, clenching hard.

Nine.

Eight.

God, it’s going to be difficult to get out of the water.

Seven.

Six.

You’re not the strongest swimmer, maybe you should go to the Cornucopia.

Five.

Four.

And it’s a long way to swim, even for someone who does know how. Only experienced swimmers, like Finnick, would have an easy time of it.

Three.

Two.

Then, it occurs to you, maybe those sandbars go all the way to the shore; if you get to the Cornucopia, Grab, well, anything, and then flee via the sandbars, you just might be okay.

One.

The pads everyone stands on recede into the water and dumps everyone straight in.

It makes you realize that most of your competitors do not know how to swim.

Peeta is just barely floating thanks to the bright purple belt that had been strapped around all your waists.

You know how to swim at least a little bit , so you unbuckle yours and swim over to him; once it inflates fully, you give it to him and try to drag him towards the sandbars.

It dawns on you all over again that Peeta is a tall guy, and he’s not exactly small either.

He’s strong and his weight definitely shows that; he tries to keep himself afloat but ends up making it worse.

Eventually, you make it over there, and he pulls himself up onto the loose sand; it takes a bit of effort because it’s slippery and keeps moving under your weight.

It’s barely stable enough to be a viable option. Just barely.

You leave him there for a minute and swim to the cornucopia. There's fighting going on on its small platform, but you just snag a small waterproof bag that sits a few yards away; a knife comes flying in your direction, and knicks your face.

The salt of the water stings as it mingles with blood.

When you spin back towards Peeta, he’s struggling and Finnick is approaching him.

You race back as fast as you can.

Finnick already has some pretty gnarly weapons strapped to him.

You’re about to draw the knife on him when shakes his head. “Relax, Y/n, I’m saving his ass.” Then he lifts a hand out of the water and flashes some sort of bracelet at you.

It’s the alliance bracelets that Haymitch had mentioned.

Oh.

“I-”you start, but you never really had a sentence to begin with.

You just lag silently behind as Finnick helps Peeta to the shore. The closer you get to the shore, the wider the sandbars get, and the sturdier they are as well.

Until they're eventually higher than the water, and wide enough for both Peeta and yourself to walk side by side.

You collapse onto the sand when you finally reach the shore and stay there for only a second.

That’s all you have before the three of you are up and running into the forest in front of you.

….

When Peeta’s heart stops, you're sure that yours does too— you’re sure that, as you stand there in a state while Finnick tries to resuscitate Peeta, you’re also unresponsive and silent. Dead.

True enough, in a way.

The longer you stare at Peeta’s face, still twisted in pain from the shock, the more you feel like dropping to the ground and sobbing.

You tried to imagine the way he painted with camouflage training stuff, drawing intricate designs onto both his and one of the morhpling’s arms.

It had washed off by the next morning but you had spent the whole night longing to touch it, run your fingers along his arm, trace the shapes and swirls.

Beyond the paintings, you recalled his magnetic smile and the way he always made you feel safe and calm, the steady air that he radiated.

You weren’t ready for him to die, he was the one who was supposed to win this, after all. You had resolved that Peeta Mellark was going to be the winner of the 75th Hunger Games and you were going to do whatever you needed to to make that happen. You were even prepared to turn into somebody you weren’t, just to make sure Peeta went home. Or at least, you thought you could if you had to come to it.

But now, you’re ready to give up. Finnick or Johanna could win— and they should. Literally anyone else but you. Everyone who had a life now that Peeta is gone.

You’re just about to collapse to the ground when Peeta starts to cough erratically, and he manages to sit straight up.

“Peeta!” You cry as you fall to the ground next to him, and wrap your arms around his neck. He seems disoriented for a moment before he hugs you back, right. “I really thought you were gone.”

He gently strokes your back, as you fuss over him, double checking that he’s okay and checking his burn.

…..

You hear a loud sickening crack from somewhere else in the arena that makes everyone but Johanna and Finnick jump. You feel Peeta’s hand wrap around you protectively and pull you closer to him in the single instant that you’re all reacting to the noise.

It takes a few delayed seconds before each one of you realizes that it’s just the lightning in 12, before you realize just how having Peeta’s hands on you makes you feel.

His fingers slip from your waist, brushing softly as they fall away and leaving you feeling just slightly feral.

You pull yourself away, and dig your nails into your thigh to ground yourself. Getting used to this clock thing was going to be agonizing.

You’re waiting patiently as the lot of you— You, Peeta, Finnick, Johanna and Beetee— come up with a plan to take down the force field and take out the Careers at the same time.

You can barely focus on the conversation because you itch to have Peeta’s hands on you again, to feel his fingers against your skin again.

In fact there’s so many things you’d like to say and do with Peeta that you know you will never have the chance to; not to mention that he is in love with someone else and would never be interested in any of those things with you anyways.

You’re pretty sure you’d been staring at Peeta but you only notice because Finnick shoots a look at you— you can’t tell exactly what he’s thinking but it must be something about that.

You try to zone back into the plan.

….

Trying to trap the careers failed miserably, and the person most experienced with a bow was you, but only thanks to Katniss’s training.

Everything was a blur as the force field came down; chaos, fire everywhere— you couldn’t see or hear Peeta.

You worried about him and you laid pathetically on the ground, half out of your mind. You wondered if he was having trouble with his prosthetic leg, or having run from Enobaria or one of the other careers. You wondered if he’d make it out okay, even though it was obvious you wouldn’t.

You wondered and worried for what felt like forever until an airship appeared above you.

Great. You thought, the Capitol has come to torture you and everyone you’ve ever loved until the couldnt anymore and all of you was nothing more than a shell of a person. Until the only option was avox or death.

You can’t move, or fight it as the giant claw, scoops you up.

All that effort and you still managed to condem each and everyone of you to torture.

…..

“Relax, Y/n!” Haymitch snaps, as Finnick restrains you.

Katniss sits on the other side of the table, looking just as devastated as you.

“What do you mean, you didn’t get Peeta? You can’t just leave him there, they’ll hurt him worse than any of us could ever imagine!” You say, still struggling to get away from Finnick.

Katniss actually argues in your favour. “I did say I would only do this thing if you got both her and Peeta.”

Plutarch, the game maker shakes his head redundantly. “Peeta and Johanna were just to far away for us to locate before the Capitols airships came; I’m sorry, we’ll get them back eventually.”

Finnick finally lets you go once you’ve calmed down. He has a solemn look on his face. “I’m sure they’ve got Annie too. We need to save them as soon as possible.”

….

As soon as possible turns into several weeks, several heartbreakingly, agonizingly long weeks.

You can’t help but think about Peeta every moment of every day . You imagine all the terrible things Snow is doing to him, you wish it was you in his place.

Peeta was the one person who never deserved any of this, over anyone else. You and Katniss had been willing to do whatever you needed to to survive, you’d done things maybe you weren’t particularly proud of. But Peeta? He had never let the Games change him.

He had always been the same.

Safe, steady, comfortable, strong.

You don’t even have any hope that they’re showing him any mercy.

They aren’t.

You know now, you know by the way that last interview they aired went— how he was struck just as the cameras shut off, how your heart broke when you looked into his eyes, when you saw just how much they’d hurt him already.

You were just about ready to burst into Coin’s office and tell her that you were getting Peeta now, regardless of the consequences to Thirteen.

Gale and Katniss were fighting a lot lately, tension was heavy between them; and not in a good way. You didn’t know Gale well, but the comments he made about Peeta made your skin crawl and your hands itch to throw a few punches.

Actually they were arguing now, about Peeta, and you were listening.

Gale’s head snaps to you randomly and he barks at you; “and you! Why the hell are you so invested in Bread Boy?”

You startle for a moment, but then narrow your eyes. “What do you mean why am I invested? He’s my— friend.” You say, sounding unsure even to yourself.

Katniss huffs. “I mean, come on, Gale, you know that our relationship has been fake from the start and we—” she gestures between the two of them. “—we’re friends, Gale, we always have been.”

He scoffs, and says something else in a bitter tone but all you can hear is Katniss’s words replaying over and over in your brain.

Our relationship has been fake from the start.

“Shut up for a second!” You snap at Gale, and turn back to Katniss. “Your relationship was fake the whole time? Yours and Peeta’?” You almost feel like an asshole for asking, just in case it is real; but so many things Peeta has done and said make so much more sense recontextualized like this.

Like when he said their rings were ‘just for ten cameras.’ Or when he told you he always thought you were beautiful. Or even the way he tried so hard to convince not to go back into the games.

Both of their faces fall flat, Katniss’s in disbelief. “You didn’t know?” She says.

You shake your head slowly. “No, I-” you stop yourself because you're at a loss for words.

“Y/n, we didn’t try to hide it from you, how did you not know? Even Haymitch said right in front of you that Peeta had a crush on you!”

You deadpan once again. You had blatantly misread everybody’s words in that conversation. “I just assumed that was about you!” You stare at each other for a second longer before you stand up abruptly. “I have to go.”

There was a lot of thinking you had to do and then a lot of planning— and a bit of yelling too.

…..

You were deemed too invested in the mission to actually go on it, and Finnick was too distressed over Annie to be allowed.

So you had been sitting together in silence; the silence was comfortable but the insane amounts of stress running through your veins was enough to make the tension in the air as sharp as a knife. Not between each other but to any other person.

Especially since Gale was allowed to go on the mission, and you felt that was entirely unfair— Gale doesn’t even like Peeta.

It had turned into a whole day of waiting, and only twenty minutes ago, they had returned with Johanna, Peeta and Annie.

The anxiety had grown tenfold when you were both informed you weren’t allowed to see them yet.

Now, you’re standing outside the door where Annie was resting, watching her through the one way window.

Finnick’s eyes are filled with so many you can only pick out one or two; you wonder if your eyes will look similar when you enter Peeta’s room.

You wish him luck and watch as he enters the room; Annie looks like she screams his name and then jumps him. He holds her up, looking like it’s the happiest moment of his life.

Watching them makes you much more excited to see Peeta, although you're not sure it will be quite that exuberant of a reunion.

You walk a couple doors down, glancing in the windows as you do; but you stop when you see Katniss and Johanna in one of the rooms before Peeta’s.

Why in the world is Katniss in the Hospital? What happened?

You push open the door gently, and Katniss doesn’t stir— you take note of the morphling drip in her arm, that must be keeping her knocked out.

You see Johanna is also asleep, her head is shaved and she has the worst tortured expression on, even though she looks to be sleeping soundfully— physically, anyways.

If she’s looking that bad, you can’t help but wonder about Peeta. You’re always wondering about him.

You don’t want to disturb either of their healing so you quickly leave the room, shutting the door as quietly and calmly as you can.

Finally, as you walk out, you spot the guards in front of Peeta’s door; you think it’s a little strange, considering neither Johanna nor Annie had security at the door but you walk towards the door anyways.

The guards hold out a hand as you approach.

“Restricted access, you can’t go in there.” The guard says, almost heartlessly.

Just as he finishes speaking, the door opens and Haymitch steps out and away. You would look through the window but the blinds are down.

“I’m sorry, Sweetheart, you can’t see him.” Haymitch takes your arm and leads you back down the hallway. “The Capitol… they tortured him so bad he—” Haymitch stops, and looks away for a second before looking back. “He tried to strangle Katniss, and kept yelling about how Katniss was a liar. He’s not himself right now.”

So much for your heartfelt reunion.

All content belongs to @beingsuneone , do not repost, copy or post on other platforms without my permission.

[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted: Chapter 7, Unburdened - Pt. 2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, a lot of sexual discussions, promises that will not be kept.

Word Count: 1.3k

Previously On...: You and Bucky fucking finally admitted your feelings to one another. About damned time, geez, you two. Anyway, just as you're about to celebrate your newly declared love in a, uh, physical manor, you're summoned back to the common room by Tony.

A/N: I have no excuses-- I was fucking high AF when I wrote this part, which is why it may come across as a little... unhinged. But once I was sober and re-read what I wrote, I thought "screw this, I love it; it stays!" I hope you enjoy it as much as I did!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917

Taglist: (Please let me know if you’d like to be added!) @jmeelee @cazellen @blackhawkfanatic @les-sel @marcswife21 @buckybarnessimpp @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @erelierraceala @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @jupiter-107 @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321

Presentable once again, you left your room, Bucky taking your hand in his as you headed up to the common room and whispering all of the filthy things he was going to do to you when you both officially retired for the evening. By the time you entered the common room, you were leaning into him in a fit of flustered giggles.

"Good. Looks like you finally got it out of your systems," Tony said once you'd walked through the doors. "What the 'F' Was It?"

You and Bucky exchanged confused glances before looking back to Tony. Tony's eyes cast down to where your hands were entwined. "Looks like the 'fuck's have it!" he called out to the rest of the gathered group. "Everyone who bet "fight," pay up!"

"Boss, did ya'll seriously bet on whether we were fucking or fighting?" you asked, horrified, but still a little amused.

"That's why the game is called "What the 'F'?," Pocket," Tony said with a smirk and playfully exaggerated eye roll. "Try to keep up."

"Well," began Bucky with a smile, "technically, we didn't do either, so you should all be paying us."

"Nope," said Tony, "Cap had 'Firm up their Friendship,' so I guess he's the winner."

"'Firm up their Friendship'?" you asked, raising an eyebrow in Steve's direction. The super soldier shrugged and averted his eyes, a slight blush creeping up his cheeks.

"It had to begin with an 'F,' otherwise it would not fit the parameters of the game," Thor offered helpfully. "It was very humorous."

"Alright, everyone, pay out to Cap," Tony said, reaching for his wallet.

"Not so fast," Natasha interrupted. "I believe you'll recall that I put money on 'frottage,' so if we could get confirmation on that, I'd appreciate it," she gave you both a knowing grin, and you instantly regretted confessing to her how turned on dry humping made you.

"Oh my God," you muttered, putting your face in your hand, now fully horrified.

Bucky looked down at you, face confused. "What the hell's 'frottage?'" he asked cautiously. You whispered the definition in his ear and his entire face turned a crimson red as he furiously rubbed the back of his neck.

"Ha! I knew it!" Nat shouted, raising a fist in the air. "Pay up, bitches!"

There was a chorus of groans as your friends all begrudgingly passed Natasha one-hundred dollar bills.

"...eight, nine, -- hey, who didn't pay up? There should be a thousand bucks here!" Nat looked around the room. "Where did Steve go? Dirty cheat owes me a hundred dollars!" Everyone looked around, but the Captain had vanished from the room. You felt Bucky heave a heavy sigh next to you, and when you turned up to look at him, you noticed the distraught expression on his face.

"What's up, Buck?" you asked, concerned. "Do you know where Steve went?"

He shook his head, the corners of his mouth turning back up as he looked down at you. "I'll tell you later," he promised before kissing the crown of your head.

"So, we're not hiding this anymore?" Sam asked as he walked over to the two of you. "Because I'm so tired of pretending we don't all know you two bumpin' uglies."

You rolled your eyes at Sam, but couldn't hide the smile that was creeping across your face. You wrapped your arms around Bucky's waist, drawing yourself closer to him. "What? You want us to make some kind of official royal proclamation?"

"I, for one, don't really give a shit," said Rhodey from across the room. "I only bet because Romanoff threatened me."

"Thank you for minding your own business at least, Rhodey," you offered, caught somewhere between grateful and insulted. Rolling your eyes at Sam, you turned to Tony. "So, what's so important that you called us back down here, Boss? We were a little... preoccupied."

"Ugh, Pocket, I don't need you to put a picture in my head, thank you," Tony said, waving his hands at you in disgust. "That's a whole new thing to unpack in Virtual Therapy: "How to handle the guy who was brainwashed into murdering your parents repeatedly violating the girl you've come to see as your baby sister."

"Oh my god, Tony," you muttered at the same time Bucky said "It's not violating if she's a willing participant, Stark." You elbowed Bucky gently in his side.

"Don't traumatize him, baby," you murmured. "He's fragile."

"Funny. Very funny," Tony deadpanned, arms crossed over his chest. "Anyway, getting back to very professional Avenger business, you'll notice Ms. Carthage and our SHIELD guests have left for the evening."

Huh. You'd forgotten they'd even been there to begin with, what with all the love declarations and frottage that had taken place with Bucky.

"Yeah, we see that," said Bucky, answering for both of you.

"Which means we have to decide, as a group, if we want to invite Ms. Carthage to join us on a probationary basis. We've already taken a preliminary vote, so we just need you two to cast your ballots. What's it going to be? Yay or Nay?" Tony looked to you first.

You thought back to the tour you'd given her earlier that day, and how unprofessional Jade had been. Even before she'd started her flirtations with Bucky, Jade Carthage had rubbed you the wrong way. You couldn't, in good conscience, agree to invite her onto your team, into your family.

"I vote 'nay,'" you told Tony.

He nodded. "Very well. Barnes? What say you?"

Bucky didn't even hesitate. "If my girl doesn't want her here, then neither do I. I vote 'nay.'"

You looked up at him, your eyes wide as saucers, and you were pretty sure they’d turned heart-shaped. Despite hoping Jade could give him the answers he'd been searching for, Bucky had voted against having her join The Avengers just because she made you uncomfortable.

"Hey," he said, tucking his thumb under your chin and tilting your head up, "I told you, you're the most important person in the world to me, and I want whatever is going to make you happy. If that means not having her around, then I don't want her around."

"Buck," you breathed, standing up on your toes to reach his lips, "I love you."

You did your best to ignore the cheers and goads from your friends as you kissed, and when you pulled apart a short moment later, both your cheeks were red with embarrassment.

"That was disgusting," Tony said, rolling his eyes in that bored Tony way of his. "Too bad it was for nothing. The 'yay's have it, seven to six. We'll be officially extending an invitation of probationary membership to Jade Carthage, AKA: Vixen, first thing tomorrow morning. Class dismissed."

The relief that had washed over you when Bucky had voted 'nay' alongside you evaporated when Tony read out the results. You mumbled half hearted goodnights to your teammates as they trickled out, off to their individual evening pursuits, until it was just you and Bucky left standing in the common room.

"I'm sorry, doll," he murmured softly as he ran his hands gently up and down your arms. "You'll let me know what I can do to help make the next few months with her as easy for you as possible, yeah? Anything you need."

You smiled at him, so grateful that he was being so understanding about this. You put your hands over his as they rested on your arms. "Just love me, okay, Buck?" you asked him. "Just love me and be honest with me; that's all I ask."

He took you in his arms, swaying you back and forth ever so slightly. "That's an easy promise, sweetheart." You felt him rest his chin on the crown of your head. "I give you my word."

<- Previous Part / Next Chapter ->

[obislittleone]

The Winner Takes It All

Episode 15

Pairing: Finnick Odair x Tribute(OC)!Reader

Chapter Warnings: This one is a little nerve wracking and angsty but there's a lot of fluff, too. ALSO THE BIG REVEAL.

Chapter Summary: The crowning ceremony has begun, but Snow's words drive Finnick to do something he may regret sometime in the near future.

Word Count: 5.0k

Season two is being written rn I'm about halfway through and It will be 20 chapters (I will not be posting them any time soon bc i swore i would finish some other series)

“I think that they were enraptured purely by you, Mercedes.” But your face still did not change, and he didn’t know why. Why were you so completely happy? He had known for certain from watching the games that you did not win them for glory or for stature. You won them to survive, to exact vengeance. So why were you filled with joy? “I suppose it was t-the work of my mentor,” you breathed out, never looking away from him in the crowd. He couldn’t hear a word being said, but he was smiling back at you all the same. 

Waking up felt achy the next morning. Like your entire body had been dragged through hell and landed in this bed, surrounded by comforts you’d never seen. It felt like you were slightly dehydrated, and most likely experiencing the strain of tight muscles from the night before. The way you’d cried, your entire body jolting like it was the end of the world, it was now affecting you. 

You felt as if you were dying, but then as you came into clearer consciousness, you felt the warmth surrounding you, in the form of two arms that were tightly wound over and under your body, holding you close to his own that practically radiated heat. It was your reminder, that though you felt like dying, there was still something left for you here. 

It wasn’t said that you had to be awake by a certain time, nor did anyone go over your schedule for the day ahead of you in any moments prior. It stands to reason that you don’t make any moves to get up. It’s why you don’t even stir past a few blinks of your still sleepy eyes, staring with great interest at Finnick’s resting features. He’s so beautiful and defined, but without those snarky expressions or that dazzling smile, he looks so peaceful and soft. If not for the light shining in gentle beams over his shoulder, you may not have awoken, but you’re glad you did. You find you rather like looking at him, especially so close and personally, in a way that few others have ever seen him. 

After a few moments you allowed your eyes to close again, snuggling further into his chest, right between his shoulders. He had nice shoulders, you noted. They were broad and tan and strong. 

He stirred not long after, tightening his hold around your body and pressing a light kiss to the top of your head. It was small and he thought that you weren’t even awake to feel it, but every time he did that you were slowly understanding why he did it. It was just a gesture, sweet and endearing, and a reminder. You’re here, you’re alive, and you’re with him.

His fingers found solace in the strands of your hair, the length gliding through and falling over his palms. He came to a conclusion the night before, after the charade with the Flickerman Interview played out. He watched you go through that, alone on a stage, with only gawking capitol members surrounding you. Your trauma didn’t matter to them. To them it was drama, and they loved it… wanted to see more. 

He kissed your hairline once more and started to whisper in your ear. 

“We have to get up soon,” his voice was low and raspy from sleep. 

You groaned in defiance, turning in his arms but not leaving them, instead pulling them closer around your front as you buried your face into his elbow. 

“No we d-don’t…” 

He sighed. He certainly did not want to get up. He thinks back to every moment during the games when his stomach turned with fear, his jaw staying in a state of constant tightness while watching you in that arena. His belief that you could win was never unbothered by the small voice in his head telling him you were going to die. He remembered the feeling of dread that would fill him to the brim every time he saw you close to death, knowing he’d never hold you like this. Never be able to kiss the crown of your head or pull you closer into the curve of his body where you seemed to fit perfectly. 

Eventually, you both got up, because today was the crowning ceremony. The Victor was to accept her title and become the Capitol’s newest darling. You understood what came with it, and despite the horrors you knew you would face, you told yourself you were ready to take it on. This is the cost of escaping the arena with your life, when all others, including your allies, and best friend, did not. 

Dalton had left your new dress and necklace in the apartment that morning, unable to stay for an interview he had himself. The stylist of the newest Victor, the current peak of popular fashion. The one who was capable of extenuating even the most desirable of the tributes.

You opened the garment bag that was hanging on a portable rack in the living room, reading the small note that was peaking through the sides. 

For the mermaid… knock em’ dead.  - D

You smiled and took a look at the dress, your eyes lighting up as you pulled the floor length get up out of the bag. It was a stunning turquoise with an iridescent top layer, pearls and fish beads sewn into the fabric. The edges of the bottom looked like crashing waves, and it flared out in comparison to the tightness of the top. 

You took the dress back to your room, starting to get ready, but you realized you weren’t sure what to do with your hair. It was just down and around your shoulders right now, and you wished you’d had your mother’s expert hand in braiding it or twisting it into some sort of crown. 

You sighed in frustration after your third failed attempt, and though you hadn’t been paying attention to your groans and noises of annoyance, Mags had, because her door had been open, right across from yours, open as well. 

She leaned in the frame, watching you struggle for the last time before you threw the comb in your hand onto the vanity before you, leaning your head into your hands. 

Mags stepped in right away, her silent approach calming when she gently placed her hands on your shoulders, reaching in front of you and picking up the comb you dropped. You lifted your head and met her eyes in the vanity mirror before smiling to her in relief. 

“T-thank you.” 

She made quick and gentle work of pulling the strands in her direction, twisting them together and taking small pins from the vanity to place them down. By the time she was finished, your hair was put into a sweet looking bun, small tendrils framing your face and behind your ears. 

“It l-looks beautiful.”

She lightly patted your shoulder, helping you out of your seat and over to the bathroom to change into your dress. 

-

Finnick had been waiting to leave for a few minutes now. He knew Mags had gone to the rescue when you were struggling with your hair, but he wasn’t sure why everything else had taken so long. Dalton didn’t usually take very long preparing any tribute that sat in front of him. He supposed it was because he had a lot more experience.

Dalton was technically not the stylist for the female tributes from four… but he was Finnick’s stylist, and friend, and when Finnick asked for him by name before the games, the man had no qualms about saying yes. He felt he would have to owe Dalton a favor of some sort, because in his mind, having him as your stylist saved your life. 

He had gotten caught up in his thoughts, but turned on his heel as soon as he heard the sound of pearlized shoes clicking along the floor behind him. The dim lighting from the barely open shades provided a soft haze over the room, a glowing ambience, the reflection off the black tile allowing a certain allusion of floatation when you entered the room. 

You looked beautiful, of course, but he noticed a confidence in your step he hadn’t seen since before the arena. You looked more powerful, more ethereal. 

He wanted to say something when he met your eyes, wanted to open his mouth and feel actual words leave his mouth, but the longer he was locked onto you, the less his mind was able to work coherently. Words failed him completely, and rightfully so. 

“I t-think Dalton outdid h-himself,” You beamed, giving a small and slightly clumsy twirl in the dress. 

The first thing that came to his mind was the conversation Lukas had with Rodey in the arena, how he thought he’d fallen in love with you because of one night when you twirled in a dress, lighting up like a star in a dark sky. He recalled the exact words. Like some crazed wind turbine. You’d only twirled once, but he could only imagine it was the same as all those years ago. You had a spark of happiness in your eyes, even after everything. He caught a glimpse of your whole body before returning to your facial expression again. 

“You’re beautiful,” he smiled, finally able to gather the two simple words he’d been searching for this entire time. You’re beautiful, you’re innocent, despite the games. You’re a force to be reckoned with in the best way possible. He wants to preserve this image of you, keep it untarnished, so he tucks it away in the recesses of his mind to return to in the future. “The color suits you.”

Your smile and slight giggle that erupted told him that maybe you were just as nervous as he was, and perhaps you were just more outwardly expressive. 

“You look g-good, too.”

He didn’t even think about how he looked, if he was being honest. An older white knit sweater shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and embellished buttons on the side coming directly from both of your district. 

“I’ve been known to clean up nice, sometimes,” he laid on the charm, trying his best to wear a facade before he even stepped outside. There was no use in keeping on in his stare like a poor love struck boy. He had a show to put on, today. 

He offered his arm, and you took it without hesitation, glancing over at Mags who had only now made her presence known, following you all to the door. Arbin would probably already be at the party, knowing him. He needed to be where the noise was, the drama, and the excitement. A true capitol citizen, except for maybe he had compassion. More than any of the other higher up bloodsuckers did, anyway. 

The ride to the center of the capitol was extremely wild, the shouts of fans outside the windows, they were screaming and shouting. You couldn’t bring yourself to dislike it, though you didn’t exactly throw yourself into the adoration, either. This was life, now. You didn’t have a choice or a way to change it, so you might as well just let the world go on around you. 

The fanfare of triumphant music began the moment you stepped onto the concrete, the grounds and buildings around you decorated with things reminiscent of four. You were somehow always surprised when the capitol showed a new part of itself to you, as if you expected something different. They strangely romanticized the cultures of the districts, but would never even think about setting foot in any of them except for the ones that are well off.

You allowed yourself to feel important while roaming amongst the citizens. Making your way to the glorious stage, where a throne awaited and President Snow stood by. He seemed much more intimidating now that you were going to have to approach him. 

The steps of the platform were steep, so you took your time going up them. You ignored the thought in the back of your brain telling you to stop stalling and to go faster, but by the time you completely shoved it away, you’d reached the top anyways. 

You nodded to the man with a smile, forced. He came before you, offering his hand to be shaken. You took it right away, scared to anger him in any capacity. There was a story you’d heard in passing about the girl from last year who refused to shake his hand. She hadn’t had a happy moment since the end of her games. 

“Congratulations, my dear. You are a worthy adversary.” 

The cold blue of his eyes burned like ice in your veins, and you swallowed back the anxiousness that built up in your throat. You kept a pleasant look on your face but in an instant, you could tell he was reading every single inch of you, and knew what you were thinking. He knew you were afraid of him, and the smirk he wore as you responded was only confirmation.

“Thank you, s-sir.” 

“You may be aware, you’ve had an effect on the people in the capitol,” he commented, turning away to take the crown of silver and pearl off of the stand beside him. If this were under different circumstances, you would have taken notice of the beautifully crafted headpiece that was made specifically to suit you. “They find you quite lovely.”

“They must have ap-pprecitated my stylist,” you tried to deflect, feeling even more the prey under a predator than before. The conversations with Finnick, the things he said you were going to be expected to do. It rushed past you, and yet… something felt stuck in your brain, because the weight didn’t hit you yet. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that as you turned, allowing him to place the crown on your head, your eyes met a pair of sea green ones, at the front of the crowd. He looked at you differently than any of these people did, or even had the capacity to. And it made you feel safe. Even in this situation of uncertainty and a path of future turmoil, he was going to be there, so you were going to be okay.

You smiled, genuinely, and for the first time since you arrived, Snow could not read you. 

“I think that they were enraptured purely by you, Mercedes.” But your face still did not change, and he didn’t know why. Why were you so completely happy? He had known for certain from watching the games that you did not win them for glory or for stature. You won them to survive, to exact vengeance. So why were you filled with joy?

“I suppose it was t-the work of my mentor,” you breathed out, never looking away from him in the crowd. He couldn’t hear a word being said, but he was smiling back at you all the same. 

“Well,” Snow turned to catch where your eyes were locked, and now he held an even bigger smirk across his face. The information gained just from a single glance was ever beneficial to a man like President Snow. He hummed when he saw the strand of eye contact, nodding to himself. He didn’t like the way you were suddenly un-bothered by him. Perhaps there was something he could say to change that. “In any case, I hope we can be friends. Perhaps do favors for one another.”

Hearing the word favors made you still for a moment, and Finnick saw it. That was when your skin crawled, and you returned to your previous state of thinking, and feeling.

Something happened, he knew… but he wouldn’t ask. He’d let you tell him. 

He just didn’t think you’d tell him so quickly. After coming off the stage, you didn’t even look at the people passing by, reaching for you and calling your name. It was all noise until you reached him. There was another venue to get to, anyway. You didn’t want to stay long in the first place. 

“You alright?” He whispered, letting you take his arm once more as you both walked through the noise and back to the vehicle. 

“I d-don’t know,” you breathed, trying to keep a neutral expression before anyone noticed. “I need to l-leave.”

“Mags,” Finnick turned to his side, where she stayed right by the both of you. “Help her to the car, I’ll find Arbin.”

“No,” you stopped in your tracks, grabbing a hold of his arm tighter. You were only now thankful for the loud ambience, covering the transparency of this dire situation. “Please, s-stay.”

Mags patted his arm, nodding her head back to the crowd as she dove back into it to retrieve the infamous Capitol rep of district four.

“I’m here,” he soothed, taking your hand and squeezing it as you kept moving to the car. There was a moment of tension when a few nosey Capitol citizens blocked the door he was trying to open. 

“The mermaid! Oh darling you are even more stunning in person,” they rambled, reaching out to touch you, as indecent as it was. The woman’s hands found your other hand, squeezing it, but not in a comforting way like the man beside you. The woman’s husband seemed to eye you up and down from the moment you stepped before them. “Isn’t she just gorgeous?” 

“Absolutely, she is!” The husband gave you a wink and your stomach turned again, the tightness in your chest was making the world spin. The moment the man placed a hand on your shoulder, you felt it ripped away, as quickly and carefully as possible. 

“She’s unfortunately leaving now,” Finnick said flippantly, stepping between them and pulling the door open, making sure they were not going to touch you again. “Thanks for coming out.”

You climbed into the backseat quickly, hearing some gasps of dramatic proportion and words of contempt for Finnick. 

When the door closed, you felt safer, but not safe. You weren’t quite able to decipher the quick change in your emotions. You thought you were fine, even with everything around you. Even with the thoughts of what you would have to endure… so what changed? Snow’s words were only those of confirmation to what you already knew was true. It didn’t change anything. 

You couldn’t meet Finnick’s eyes anymore, and you had no clue as to what would cause your aversion to him. He’s helping you, he’s protecting you. You have no reason to be afraid of facing him. 

“Mercy,” he took hold of your cheek, trying to gently convince you to look his way. “What happened?”

You shook your head. “I’m n-not sure. Snow said some t-things. But I expected it…”

He looked at you with a sadder expression, one of pity and condolences, but that’s not what bothered you. What bothered you now was the thought that he was going to see you differently from how he did before, even how he does now. 

If you were shoved into the life that he’d been forced into, would he think of you as tainted? Would he see the marks of capitol citizens and treat you as though you’re a ruined object? Surely, he couldn’t. He’s never looked at you with an ounce of contempt, not even after the arena. So then why do you feel so small and unworthy of his affectionate gaze?

“I know things w-will change,” you kept on, since he didn’t have any words to say. “I just d-don’t want others to look at m-me differently, if they find out.” 

“Merc-”

“I don’t w-want you to look at me d-differently.”

Your eyes, lids and under eye coated with a pearly glaze that had been such a struggle for you and Mags earlier… it began to run with the wetness from the bleary corners and over your cheeks. 

He let out a deep breath, his heart nearly shattering over how your bottom lip quivered with your stuttered words. He saw in you a person that would soon know exactly what it was like to be him, and he hated it. He tucked you into himself closely, holding onto the back of your head and caressing the exposed skin of your back. 

“I know this… feeling. I used to feel it. Nothing ever made it better,” he explained, and as you breathed him in, you waited. Waited for him to tell you that there was no shame in being seen differently, waited for him to say that being seen differently didn’t change the way he would talk to you, or treat you... “But I promise you, none of that could ever make me see you differently.”

You pulled back to meet his gaze, soft and unwavering. You didn’t realize how you trembled in his arms until he ran his hands down the side of your shoulders and down to your elbows. He stilled your movement and leaned his forehead against yours, breathing with you like he did all that time ago before the arena. 

“Snow has power over a lot, but he can’t change the way I feel about anyone, most of all you, Mercy.”

You smiled, the way he spoke opened a new trail of thoughts in your mind that were much more pleasant than the ones from before. How he felt about you, how did he feel about you? You assumed fondly, for the way he held you so gently… but there could be something more. Something that you never thought could be there with anyone. Your past experiences were never kind to you, but maybe this time the odds were in your favor. 

“Thank y-you,” you sniffed, the smile you’d been wearing earlier in the day finally making a reappearance. 

“Don’t thank me.” 

“I h-have to. You’re the reason t-that I’m alive at all…”

“S’just my job,” he mumbled, but you both knew it wasn’t true. He’d never saved a tribute before. He never cared this much. And now, you being brought into this world he just escaped from, he knew what he had to do. 

The scene started to return to normal when the car pulled up to the second destination. 

Time for another show, but maybe this one didn’t need to end in tears. 

“Alright,” he wiped under your eyes and readjusted your hair for you, making it look like nothing even happened. “I’ll stay close, make sure they keep their distance. You’re gonna be okay.”

You nodded, looking out the window at the anticipating guests of the large hall. It was like the crowning ceremony, but maybe a bit more rambunctious. The people, however, seemed a bit tipsy and unserious. It was a proper party, a celebration of their yearly tradition. 

“It’s not too late t-to have a good t-time, is it?” 

He let a genuine laugh escape him, and shook his head. He was still locked onto you, and a part of him didn’t even want to leave the car… but as usual, there were expectations. 

“Not at all.”

-

He walked the halls with a chill down his spine. The last time he’d had a private audience with Snow, his life changed for the worst. This time he’d hoped to feel a bit more power at the prospect that he was the one seeking Snow’s presence. Only time would tell if that feeling of power ever made itself known, because standing before the large and ornate wooden doors, knocking rapidly, it wasn’t anywhere to be found. 

The doors were opened by two house staff, and Snow awaited at his desk on the other side. 

“Come in, dear boy,” he ushered with a smile, even backed by genuine joy, it looked menacing. “Have a seat.”

He did as he was told, turning and watching as the staff left them alone together, closing the doors as they left the room. The cold air of the night was seeping in through the open window, and it took everything in him not to visibly shiver. 

“What can I do for you?” Snow offered, leaning back into his seat, that twisted, gleeful look never washing from his face. “It’s been a long time since we’ve sat down together.”

Finnick nodded, trying to keep the air light, but knowing the second he started in that it would change. He tried not to grimace in the president’s direction, lord knows he wanted to. 

“I have a few questions about the new victor,” he began, his shoulders turning slightly inwards and his posture failing him the second he mentioned you. He was terrified to be doing this. Terrified that it might backfire and you would be punished… but he wasn’t going to let what happened to him now befall you. Any means necessary. 

“If you are wondering about any favors I may ask from Miss Blythe, I’m afraid it’s none of your concern…” Snow’s voice was solid, but not harsh. He spoke forwardly, as he always did, but he was intrigued in the slightest to hear out one of his most profitable victors. “You’ve helped her win the games and usually it is customary after that happens to forget about her affairs, so I ask, dear boy… What plagues you?”

He didn’t know if he should proceed. He was in the lesser seat, with the lesser circumstances. He always has been, victor or not. How foolish of him to think he had a chance at the upper hand. No power comes to those who sit beneath the Capitol’s boot. 

He almost gave up, almost changed the subject… but then he remembered the look you’d given him just moments ago. That sweet, beautiful, shining glance you gave him, wearing a crown of silver and pearl upon your head. He will do whatever it takes to not let that gleam in your eyes be tarnished. It may have survived the hunger games, but he isn’t willing to chance putting it through years of abuse and torment. 

“I know what you plan on asking her to do,” he remembers the way he was once asked, the chill again sweeping over his neck and down his back. He remembers the day it happened, at the end of his victory tour. He remembers his dread, but he continues, anyway. “I’ve come to ask if I could take her place.”

Snow tilted his head, a sort of funny expression was worn. He looked, for lack of a better word, puzzled. It was quite hard to surprise the president.

“I see.”

There was a moment where Finnick could see the gears turning inside Snow’s mind. He was curious as to the reasoning behind it, because surely, if he thought about it for this long, he would not deny him his request? Maybe he’d been returned the upper hand after all. 

“I find it admirable, that you would do favors for me in place of another tribute. I do think, however, I may need remind you…” Snow leaned forward towards his desk, his eyes opening wider as to show his sincerity. “You are not quite as popular right now as Miss Blythe.” 

“I’ve already taken that into consideration. I understand that a mentor’s role in a victory tour is limited, but I can change that.”

Snow’s intrigue did not fall, in fact it increased.

“Do tell, Mr. Odair.”

Finnick almost felt relief. Had the cards finally been stacked in his favor? He doubts it, because he’s not asking for just your freedom, he’s only asking to bear the task of your sexual slavery himself. There’s no such thing as ‘in his favor’ when it concerns Snow.

“I’ve been known to make a spectacle of myself, as you know. Last few years I’ve reigned it in, but I think it might be time for a comeback. Finnick Odair, the mentor who promised himself a victor, and won.”

It was an engaging concept, and a true one at that. Snow thinks he must be telling the truth, but of course, he’s not just one to assume. 

“And did you?” His eyebrow raised along with his question, and Finnick got caught up in it… “Did you promise yourself Miss Blythe would win? Or just a district four tribute?” 

Finnick doesn’t have an answer to that. Originally, yes, he’d promised himself any district four tribute would become victor… and after meeting the pair from the reaping, he thought it would be Lukas… but then you spoke, stuttering and stumbling through a single sentence, and his world collapsed.

“I promised myself a victor this year, and I kept that promise. Miss Blythe just happened to be the more, as you put it, popular one.” 

Snow smirked, not smiled, smirked. He sat back into his chair again, his relaxed position led Finnick to believe that he was in agreement, and he was… but there were always going to be catches. 

“If you can somehow outshine Mercedes Blythe on her victory tour, the responsibilities you wish to take on in her stead will resume. If you do not, you must understand it is a task for the most desired of victors to obtain,” he spoke evenly, as if this were some sort of high honor that victors were clawing at one another to have a chance at. 

“I understand.”

“Good, that’s good.” There was one thing sitting at the edge of Snow’s mind, a question he was positive he knew the answer to, but wanted to hear it for himself. Words were so much more valuable to him these days. “I have one more curiosity I was hoping you could resolve.”

Finnick looked on, Snow’s position changing one last time. He leaned over the desk, holding a tight contact with Finnick’s eyeline. He was staring so ruthlessly, it didn’t even matter what Snow’s question was, he was already terrified to answer. 

“Why would you, after just a year being relieved of your obligations, take up the place of the new victor?” 

His stomach turned. There was no right answer here. If he lies, he looks indifferent. If he tells the truth, he’s given Snow information he shouldn’t have.

“I don’t think she can handle what’s expected of her,” he tried to mix the truth and lies. It wasn’t false, but it certainly wasn’t his primary reasoning. Snow knew it immediately.

“Mr. Odair, we’ve been friends a long time, you need not hide the truth from me… so I ask once more, why have you come to make this deal on behalf of Miss Blythe?” 

“I want to protect her,” was his next attempt, but still not the answer Snow was looking for. The old man felt the boy was trying his patience, and he wouldn’t be satisfied until he heard what he’d been after. 

“Why?”

Finnick looked at the man’s eyes, cold and discomforting, despite the soft smoothness of his voice and tone. He knew that Snow already had the information Finnick tried to keep from him. He knew that there was no use in hiding it, and the only thing Snow wanted was to hear it aloud. Finnick wanted to leave this room, to get back to the celebration and see your gleaming smile again. He wanted to be in your presence and remind himself again why he was doing this. Even now, as he answers Snow by saying the words, he’s reminded. 

“Because I love her.” 

And Snow smiles again, the devious look and raise of his brow gives him away when he chuckles under his breath. 

“Yes, I know you do.”

-

tags(open): @thepassionatereader @i-voluntears @secretsicanthideanymore @mystargirl-interlude @c4ttheart @lilibrn @emma-andrea1 @marvelescvpe

[justanothertiredstudent]

Spoilers for Catching fire of the Hunger games series, if u havent watched it dont read.

Rewatching the 2nd hunger games film, Catching Fire for the first time in a years here r my thoughts chronologically, & I've got a lot to say about this one:

- They actually show Katniss's PTSD, flashbacks and nightmares.

- Gale being a "nice guy", christ hes a an sh*tty

- watching them back to back, they recast the cat!!!

- Snow is a fabulous villain.

- CINNA 🥰

- Caeser Flickerman's banger theme tune!

- The camera's interview is so awkward

- Effie deserved Katniss snapping at her on the train

- Peeta acknowledging that he cant hold her to wot they did to survive in the games! Peeta's already way above Gale. Peeta king 👑 of communication.

- just asking each other their favourite colour is adorable

- The Mockingjay!

- Peeta offering to talk to make it easier for Katniss

- Peeta giving Thresh & Rue's families some of their winnings. Katniss's speech about Rue is beautiful, I'm sobbing

- I love district 11, f*ck the peace keepers!! That poor old man! Haymitch: Who's going to protect them!?

- Haymitch knows better than anyone that you never escape the games.

- Jennifer Lawrence is fabulous

- Haymitch cares about them so much, we love him.

- Katniss barely holding it together on the victory tour. She looked so horrified at the little girl saying she would volunteer just like Katniss did.

- Caeser Flickerman has no right to be so iconic.

- Peeta is amazing! I love him and Katniss

- Does Effie have to say Mahogany in every film?

- Peetas disgust at the Capitol compared to what people in the districts are going through.

- I love the politics of catching fire

- Seneca decided to stop breathing - Plutarch

- F*CK GALE!!!! SHE DOESNT HAVE TO LOVE U ROMANTICALLY FOR BOTH OF U TO SAVE UR FAMILIES!!!!! Gale's right about rebelling, but he isnt even trying to understand her trauma.

- I love the anti corporal punishment, pro riots/rebellion, f*ck the police message of catching fire

- Peeta without question helping to save Gale cos he's not selfish

- Prim being a great nurse!

- I don't think Katniss has ever had any romantic feeling for Gale, he's just her best friend at most, a lot of the time he's barely that, she would've thrown herself in front of that whip if it was anyone she remotely cared about.

- The trauma of all the victors. Haymitcch is right they're not winners, they're survivors. Nobody ever wins.

- Effie actually kinda realizing the games arent the honour shes been indoctrinated to think they are.

- Katniss didnt ghetto say goodbye to Prim 😭

- Finnick & Maggs!!! We love them.

- Finnick Odair 🥰

- The Capitol is even more perfect in this one

- Johanna Mason is iconic and fabulous

- Wiress & Beetie r great

- Maggs is the sweetest

- Transition from Seneca Cranes hanging body to Caeser Flickerman's banging theme song!

- The Victor's interviews are very persuasive & interesting, they each show a lot about the characters

- Slay Johnnana!!! Make him pay for it

- The costumes in this one is a step up from the first.

- the fact she knows that Cinna is in danger for the Mockingjay dress

- Peter "We actually got married" Mellark, Peter "If it werent for the baby" Mellark

- All the Victor's holding hands in a show of unity

- CINNA 😭 (Jennifer Lawrence was amazing in this scene)

- The arena is beautiful

- finnick: oh Sh*t Katniss might actually love Peeta.

- THE FOG ,, MAGGS!! 😭😭

- Tick Tock The arenas a clock

- PEETA! JOHNANNA!

- bye bye district 12

I love this film, for me, it's my favourite in the series.

[jjtheresidentbaby]

Little Vanessa x Caregiver Mike headcanons

♡ attached to day 3 moodboard for fictionalagerechallange

warnings: spoilers for the movie, talk of mike & vanessa’s bad childhoods, talk of canon violence/events

It’s such a healing experience for both of them

Mike can get insecure about his caring abilities when it comes to Abby and having Vanessa choose to be taken care of by him is really important to him — then obviously Vanessa had a not so great childhood where she never felt like she could trust people/get close to them so having Mike be a constant in her life is big for her

Vanessa practically lives at the Schmidt house for a while after she gets out of the hospital before Mike just asks her to move in fully

they take Abby to the diner every Sunday for breakfast and Vanessa & Abby have “draw offs” where Mike tells them to draw the same thing for him to then judge and choose a winner — spoiler: it’s always a tie

both the girls love it and sometimes ask Ness to judge their pictures but he tells them it’s a tie too

Vanessa finds legitimately every and any excuse to be carried by Mike, he pretends to hate it but secretly loves being able to have her cling to him

Abby clocked Vanessa as a regressor before Mike or Vanessa realized, hence her dragging Vanessa into all her games and to go play with her any chance she could get

Mike packs her lunches everyday for when she’s at work — he always leaves little notes with drawings on them

the Schmidt fridge is perpetually covered in drawings between Vanessa & Abby

Mike always holds Vanessa’s hand when they’re in public

he’s so protective over her and makes it extremely obvious — and yes she’s a police officer with a gun but that is his baby and he will go full William Afton on someones ass if they try to hurt Vanessa

Vanessa and Abby both tease Mike about this ^

when Mike gets another job after everything he chooses something without night shifts so he can be home when Vanessa gets home from work

almost every morning is Vanessa & Abby waking Mike up by slamming pillows in his face/jumping on his bed full force — or they try to make breakfast by themselves and something crashes because Vanessa’s too regressed to be cooking and Abby’s just giggling along cause she lives for the chaos

Abby & Vanessa are soooo chaos together Mike swears they’d burn the house down if left unattended for too long

but on the flip side, things can be really chilled out if any of them need time to decompress

after everything, everyone in the house gets nightmares but Vanessa’s are definitely the worst — she has all the added trauma of how she grew up being directly connected to what happened and it takes a toll on her

Mike is sure to hold her extra tight after a nightmare and they spend a lot of nights wrapped up on the couch together with cartoons going til Vanessa eventually falls back asleep and Mike can carry her back to bed (assuming he didn’t fall asleep too)

Vanessa’s very pda heavy in general but when she’s little she’s almost always touching Mike in some way

she likes to lean back against his legs while sitting on the floor drawing while he’s on the couch

Mike calls her “sweetheart” a lot, there’s others he uses but sweetheart is his favorite

Mike gets specialty stuffed animals made to look like the animatronics because while Vanessa hates to think about what happened when she’s little, she misses her friends — he also gets a set made for Abby but her & Vanessa have to come up with different names so they can tell whose are whose apart *wink wink nudge nudge the different versions of the animatronics from the other games having similar yet different names

the amount of blanket forts that are built in the house is impressive — seriously it’s almost daily that Abby & Vanessa are getting Mike to build a new one in a new spot in the house

[dimonds456-but-only-hlvrai]

Can I just say I love the shipping scene in HLVRAI? Like, I've never been in a fandom where it's been this CHILL before. Each ship has appeal and could actually work (unless you're intentionally being weird about it, but I haven't really encountered those people, this is personal experience here), and it's just so-!

Frenrey is wonderful because they're both silly, if those two met under different circumstances you KNOW they'd be friends, and it can be about forgiveness and healing. I love that.

Freelatta is great because Tommy and Gordon always have each others' backs, and those two will see each other through thick and thin.

Sodashipping is delightful because Darnold and Tommy just click SO WELL, they have a lot of common interests outside of soda, and you guys who give Darnold a dog as well as so correct about that omg.

Darzen is really fun because these two have never once interacted in canon but so easily could have. Like Forzen probably had to go through that area to progress as well, what hijinx would they get into?

I don't see Gordon and Forzen being shipped just the two of them often (shoutout to hlvrv, that was unexpected but really fun), but that's another instance I could also see. They're polycule a lot of the time, which hell yeah.

Tomrey is awesome because of the pre-established friendship between Benrey and Tommy, how even down to the final wire Benrey didn't really want to hurt Tommy. Outside of shipping their relationship is just wonderful.

Darnrey is also fun in that regard. Gamer partners.

Benzon as well. This one really depends on your interpretation of canon but it's always fun when it pops up again. The history between those two has so much potential. I don't personally ship this one but it's always fun to explore.

Another I don't have the name for but Darnold and Gordon. Orang. And just the unconditional support from Darnold- wonderful.

Frenreylatta is just delightful. Like you take all the best parts of frenrey, tomrey, and freelatta and put them in a blender and you get pure wholesomeness. I fucking love this one. Absolute winner. And I also really love how usually depictions of this one don't hide the part parts, either, but it's still a generally more supportive relationship overall. Five stars.

Frenreylattarnold is also just *chef's kiss*. Darnold just brings a vibe to the group they don't otherwise have. It simultaneously makes it more chill and more chaotic.

Again I don't know the name, but add Forzen into the mix and you have a really fun, complex dynamic of people who just love each other. I'm so fucking here for it.

I know I'm missing some but AOUGH

I can't not talk about my favorite ship here, though. Boomer sweep. Boomer wins. Every time boomer pops up on my feed I get so fucking happy. Chaos grandpas who fucking love and support each other SO unconditionally. They work through their trauma together while committing crimes. The stark contrasts between them also aid wonderfully to their dynamic, like how Coomer doesn't like video games while Bubby is a speedrunner. They each have their own lives but they want to spend them together. NO I'M NORMAL DID YOU KNOW THAT I SWEAR I'M NORMAL-

Gubby's a fun one, too, and from my understanding that one's a rarepair. But yeah, putting Bubby's firey personality next to Gman's calm and collected one creates a lot of fun opportunities, and helps explore the differences between Half Life and HLVRAI Gman in more in-depth ways. It's always fun when it pops up again, I love it. (Shoutout to catloki for this one.)

I don't member the ship name but adding Coomer in there is also really fun. Chaos grandpas take over the world together <3

I haven't seen Coomer and Gman being shipped individually before but I could also see that one. Coomer would be able to simultaneously meet Gman where he's at while also encouraging him to step outside his comfort zone, and also probably being a terrible influence on him gGFDHSJAKGF.

All this to say I'm not really a shipper. These guys could be just friends and I'd be okay with that, which I guess lends itself to the RTVS crew and how well they all stepped into character. Everyone just has dynamics with each other, that come out naturally, and makes it easy for us to really see where each relationship could go.

I just fucking love this fandom.

[hmshermitcraft]

some scott x grian bc i saw it on here and thought it was a cute niche pairing. in this there was a longer time between each life series and certain events like double life and the empires cross over, so like the timings are inaccurate to the real world because basically i wanted them to be

(ordered youngest to oldest) Grian, Jimmy, Martyn, Pearl and Lizzie are all siblings and incredibly protective of each other. When Lizzie first introduced them to Joel, he was genuinely threatened by them all… until he realised they were all massive dorks. Joel became quick friends with Jimmy and Grian and got on well with Pearl and Martyn too, and was easily accepted into the family.

Most other partners are accepted in quickly too. To date, Tango had the worst time simply because Pearl and Grian would follow him around on Hermitcraft for weeks after finding out he was dating Jimmy. Beforehand, no one had started dating the friend of another sibling.

And no one had started to date a friend to every single sibling.

Scott had been a childhood friend to the whole group, growing up closest to Lizzie and Jimmy but staying in contact with everyone. Grian and Scott had never seemed particularly close but it made sense for Grian to invite Scott to be part of the life series, where they often ended up spending a lot of time together (when they allied against Renchanting in third life, or when Scott briefly allied with Grian and Joel on his red life in last life.) After the series would end, all the members would spend some time in a sort of after party world, where Grian and Scott seemed to spend a lot of time in deep conversation. Maybe because they were the first two winners, perhaps they’d bonded over shared trauma, maybe they just had some shared interests.

But eventually, as the pair get closer, they develop feelings for each other. They didn’t act on these feelings until after double life when Grian and other hermits got to visit empires. Grian still hadn’t planned on acting on his feelings, waiting for Scott to be the one to make a move…

but then he saw Tango and Jimmy reunite for the first time since Double Life. Jimmy was so happy, so was Tango. Grian wanted that. Pearl and Gem had each other, Martyn had Ren, Lizzie and Joel were together always and now Jimmy had Tango.

Maybe he was a bit jealous of his siblings, but in that moment he decided he’d had enough of dancing around their feelings. He stormed right to Scott’s door, knocking hard against the wood and desperately trying to ignore the anxiety that was breaking past his resolve to confess.

“Grian, uh, is everything ok?” Scott opened the door with a concerned expression. Grian was never particularly aggressive before, at least not to him.

And at that moment, Grian’s mouth moved faster than his brain and he blurted out, “You like me.”

The emperor frowned and blushed slightly, “Um… yes… Listen, Grian I’m-“

“I like you. We should go on a date.”

“Um. Ok.” Scott was a little dumbfounded but smart enough to know what he was supposed to say.

“Great.”

And before he could embarrass himself anymore, Grian flew off back in the direction of the rift and Hermitopia (honestly hoping for the rift to return just to let him run away from how embarrassed he was.)

But it didn’t. And needless to say the date went well, as he and Scott dated for over six months before the next life series rolled around.

“Hey, starship, I was wondering… um in the next game, should we try and be allies? Or would you rather we just played like usual and make sure we talk to each other?” Grian asked one evening as he lay playing with Scott’s hair with the other’s head resting against his legs.

“Hmm I think I’d rather see what happens and just make sure we communicate properly, rather than being a team and maybe making things more obvious. Is that alright with you, sunshine?”

Grian laughed and nodded, “Yeah, I’m gonna wait a little before we tell them… I love my family but they’re gonna be extra upset since you’ve been our friend since we were wee tots.”

“Yeah…” Scott sighed and moved so as he could lean against Grian fully, wrapping an arm over him. “I love you, I hope your family are ok with us being together.”

“They better be.”

Limited Life was a lot of fun. Scott got closer with Martyn which was nice, seeing as the two hadn’t seen each other properly for a while. And Martyn won! Scott was so proud of his teammate!

When they arrived at the after party, Grian was pacing around still in his bad boy attire. Something about your boyfriend being in a death game when you aren’t there is even more terrifying than having a friend or crush down there.

They don't want their relationship to affect the game - for better or worse. Grian is very aware Lizzie and Joel are all cutesy about it, Martyn is... Martyn whilst Jimmy and Tango tend to keep their relationship separate.

It adds an edge to the whole thing, though. Grian doesn't know how the others participate whilst knowing their partner is in there, possibly in danger, and there can't even help. It's awful! He'd pull Scott out, but that wouldn't be fair on either of them.

At least it makes the reunion all the sweeter. Grian knew Scott cared little for winning - he's a dork like that. Always giving others fair chances. But Grian didn't need a winner. He just needs to press his forehead against Scott's, holding him in a tight hug.

[amethystamaranth]

Sasunaru Fic Recs

1. Before Today is Over by oshit, T-rated, 12k

Given summary: Above him, Sasuke leans over the edge of the pier to watch. Naruto hears him laugh and even with his face draped in shadow, he can imagine Sasuke’s cheshire grin, eyes crinkling with mirth. He feels Sasuke smiling at him. Naruto would pluck every star from the heavens to keep that feeling.

My summary: post-war fic with getting together, ft. letter writing and a day spent in a seaside town

2. Homesick for a Mountain’s Song by kintou, M-rated, 51k

Given Summary: Sasuke tries to get away from the world by buying an abandoned house on a mountain. Naruto, tired from his long days in Konoha, gets a little too excited about growing vegetables in Sasuke's garden. 

Notes Summary: This story will mainly be Fluff or Hurt/Comfort. Just boys being soft on top of a mountain. There will probably be some dealing with trauma going on, since living on top of a mountain gives a man a lot of time to think. Anyway, I'm just a sucker for farmfics, and I think stoic Sasuke would fit in very well with all of these rough farmers.

3. Two Moons by iluxia, M-rated, 11k 

Given summary: Paths diverge after the Fourth War, in this new world Naruto works hard to build. He holds his highest dreams within his hands, but is he happy? [ Picks up post-Kaguya, some elements of Boruto & post-700 but not entirely adherent.] 

My summary: post-canon fic where Naruto at long last discovers what (who) truly makes him happy, and consequently has a midlife crisis over it, fix-it fic

4. Syzygy by glassedplanets, T-rated, 31k 

Given summary: In which Sasuke comes home, an errand needs to be run, several people tell him things, and he realizes just what home really is, for him. 

Tags for my summary: Reunions, Homecoming, Canon Divergence, Not Epilogue Compliant, Post-Chapter 699 (Naruto), Fluff, Mutual Pining, Happy Ending

5. Kizuna Hikari by YoungAndOverIntelligent, M-rated, 204k 

Given Summary: The only reason Sasuke keeps coming back to Konoha is because of that mattress. The bed is his only respite. And perhaps the dumbass who owns said bed might be worth it, too. 

Or, another canon divergence 699 that showers Sasuke with too much (deserved) love and attention that we all need for these unprecedented times. Title means "Bonded Light". It'll make sense when you're about 100K in 

My summary: There was only one bed, chakra sharing, adopted cat, so much happens it’s 200k long but it flies by it’s so good

6. Rebuilding by KinomiAkai, E-rated, 25k (and anything and everything by them!! Seriously binge read all of their Naruto fics they are all amazing I had such trouble just picking one!!) 

Given Summary: Sasuke has spent every day since the war’s end trying to rebuild. It's a good thing Naruto has been doing the same, isn't it? 

My summary: Naruto’s been working himself to the bone trying to make Kohona into a place Sasuke would like to call home, when Sasuke notices and decides to help him in his endeavor--cue a developing relationship get together!

7. Everybody Knows That You Cradle the Sun by Kyxxie, 17k, E-rated 

Given summary: “Y’know—before mom passed—she used to tell me about my dad. She'd tell me the kind of person you wanted to end up with, someone you kept around. She'd tell me about opposites, about calming the other one down and bringing them back up, about how they'd do the same for you. She'd say that you wanted someone who remembered things about you, not just the big stuff. Mundane shit that doesn't need to be remembered, but they do anyway. She'd say 'keep those who chronicle your life because it's theirs, too'." 

OR 

Naruto challenges Sasuke to a game of “who knows the other person better”. Sasuke panics when he realizes that he might be the winner because what in the actual fuck does that mean? He doesn’t know. Naruto tells him.

8. The Moon Will Sing (I Loved You Like the Sun) by FlowerCitti, E-rated, 18k

Given Summary: Sasuke comes back to the village after a few months away. (Or, Sasuke realizes that Naruto is more of a home to him than Konoha ever was.) 

My Summary: Post-canon, Naruto trying to make Kohona a home for Sasuke, in the process he overworks himself, getting together

9. Armistice by surveycorpsjean, M-rated, 15k 

Given summary: Sasuke is still here. Or maybe; love hasn't passed them yet. 

My Summary: Post-Boruto movie fix-it fic, getting together, AU where Naruto gets married (then divorced) but Sasuke never does, lovely conversations

10. Komorebi by saltedpotato, M-rated, 68k

Given Summary: Komorebi: A Japanese word for the way sunlight filters through the leaves of a tree canopy His responsibilities to the world fulfilled, Naruto Uzumaki takes Sasuke Uchiha and disappears from the public eye, letting the world readjust by itself in the aftermath of the Fourth Shinobi World War. Follow along with a series of windows into the lives of two boys as they relearn what they mean to the world and what they mean to each other.

Enjoy <3

[spopsalt]

Going into detail about EVERYTHING I hate about spop

This was the winner of the poll! Keep in mind these are in no particular order! I hope you enjoy it! This VERY long post so be warned!

The representation it's so bad, a lot of it is just stereotypes. Bow being the black best friend, Mermista being the sassy black woman, Catra being the angry Hispanic woman, and the only autistic character being put ON A LEASH!? The only non-binary character being a fucking LIZARD!?

Catradora. It is awful. It is so bad. It's so romantized despite being in a KID'S SHOW! That's what I hate most about it. Little kids will see this and believe this is how they should treat the person they love, or this is how someone who loves them treats them. It's just bad. Really bad.

How they ignore everyone's trauma. Some characters have some really interesting trauma that could be explored, but they just get ignored for abusive catgirl! Seriously, some of the trauma could be legitimentally interest, like Micah, how did he feel about not being able to say goodbye to his wife? About being in beast island for years? Haha no you idiots, he has no trauma! He's just a goofy dad haha! How about Glimmer who also didn't get to say goodbye to her mom, who sacrificed herself so everyone else can live? Who was crushing under the pressure of being queen! Who had everyone around her ignore her mom's death? Who got manipulated by Shadow Weaver when she was vulnerable? Haha! No, she has no trauma! Angella, always feels a lingering guilt about her husband, who believes her husband is dead. Haha! Nope! No trauma! (I used three examples but there is so much more)

Seahawk. That's it.

The way they treat war, they've treated it as a joke, a game, and a backdrop, they don't show how it affects people, we couldn't of gotten to see citizens stories of how their lives were affected? Nope!

The amount of filler. White Out and Mermesteries, have no point other than being annoying filler, they don't have any meaning to the plot, and to make it worse they just drag on and on.

The wasted potential. This is so annoying. It has so much potential, if it was given to competent writers, it could've been so good, maybe even a masterpiece, but it's just so...bad.

The "jokes" I'm being nice by calling them jokes. They are more like awkward moments that beg you to laugh. Haha Kyle, a poor innocent kid gets bullied for the 35455467568th time please laugh! Haha! Bow's voice cracks for the 967986786897th time! Laugh again!

Seamista, Mermista looks like a teenager, and Seahawk looks like he's an adult. Mermista clearly doesn't like Seahawk, Seahawk just kept invading her boundaries and eventually, they got together. Seriously what the fuck?

Worldbuilding, it is so bad at it. We never see any citizens or get a feel for how the world looks, the only difference is cosmetic

Catra's redemption arc. Just in general. it was so rushed.

The needless ships in season 5, they are so rushed and have no purpose to the plot.

The princesses are so boring and one note, for them being the title, they don't do much.

The character arcs, or lack thereof, the ones we do get are boring and one note.

The pacing is just so bad, it's either too slow or too fast.

Season 5. It's self explanatory.

That's about all I could think of at the moment! Let me know what you think!

[dingdinghq]

14 strangers travel to the strange, isolated town of Evolution, unknowing that they will soon be dragged into a twisted game that only one of them may win...

I recently got into Fear and Hunger thanks to @aguahouse and this spiralled wildly out of control and so this has become a full-fledged au mainly created by yours truly.

The Termina Festival, in this case, is a death game puppeted by the Watchers in Evolution. Through weird ass resurrection magic, the contestants have 3 lives and once they lose their third life, they'll be sent back to the train, which they cannot leave until a winner is declared (permadeath isn't a thing largely because the Watchers love to feed on their grief and trauma). This AU is using the cast of Third Life specifically, although the others may make appearances/be referenced.

Other than that, this is going by a lot of the same rules of the F&H universe. There's still multiple different gods, the game mechanics are still preserved for the most part, it's just in a universe tailor-made for Life Series and MCYT.

Other things:

Moonscorching as a concept still exists here. Its called "voidscorching" and works generally the same. Characters' voidscorched forms will be at the bottom of their page, though I will list them in this post.

The Listeners, Speakers, and other deities are a thing, but they're... not exactly a huge deal here. It's similar to how the other old gods work in F&H.

The souls are still a thing! I gave each character a soul based on how they act and general interpretations of the souls; reminder that just because I give a character a soul doesn't mean they fit the same role or personality as the character(s) who had that soul in F&H.

Some of the darker F&H mechanics (i.e. the SA) aren't going to be in this. It just doesn't fit in this au. However, I respect the original games and what they do because they handle those topics with the seriousness they need. I wouldn't be making this au if I thought the games were genuinely an issue.

I won't be going into full detail with any descriptions, considering that it could be triggering. I'll tag any potential triggers under posts where they may appear (i.e limb loss, blood, body horror, etc).

Our Characters (this will be updated as character profiles are created):

Bdubs O'Hundred | Glare

BigB Statz | Defiance

Etho Slab | Charred fox

Impulse Esvee | Demon

Martyn Littlewood | Listener

Scar Goodtimes | Dealmaker

Grian Tiente | Watcher

Ren Dog | Red Winter King

Skizz Leman | Angel

Scott Major | Venus flytrap

Joel Beans | Wolf

Jimmy Solidar | Canary

Tango Tek | Raging fire

Cleo Zomi | Zombie

That's all for now! I'll try to start getting out character profiles soon! (They're not going to have art just yet; I'm still practicing drawing actual people in pixel art and don't want to deliver a disappointing result for this au that I really do love).

[turniparts]

So... Life series winners as Omori characters anyone? Individual ref sheets and more info under the cut :D

Okay SO, for starters I will just say that I am biased towards Scott Smajor and that is why I made him the main character. However, I do believe that in the end he does kind of make the most sense for Sunny considering that everyone else fits better as the other characters imo. Also I used tints of blue instead of black and white bc drawing Scott in black and white just simply feels incorrect. Anyway, Scar and Pearl are just 100% Hero and Aubrey respectively. A lot of Hero's character revolves around his charming personality, which he uses in headspace to get people to do him favors. I feel like this matches up with Scar's "too charismatic for his own good" schtick that usually happens in the life series. Aubrey reacts to a negative experience where she was abandoned by IMMEDIATELY lashing out at everyone and becoming a social outcast, hanging out with delinquents. I don't think it's rocket science to see that Pearl, who reacted to negative experiences where she was abandoned by going crazy and lashing out at everyone, matches her character really well. Going from there, Scott as Sunny makes sense because of his abandonment of Pearl in double life mirroring Sunny's retreat from Aubrey and his friends in how the latter reacted. Then Grian as Mari because 1) Desert Duo(not necessarily romantic, just in how they are inextricably linked), and 2) He was the first winner and with Watcher stuff I feel like his character is best suited to Mari's role in headspace. That left Cleo and Martyn as Kel and Basil. These two were the ones I debated the longest, because I feel like they both suit both roles. I went with Cleo as Kel because she's the one who stuck with Scott throughout every life series, like how Kel never gave up on knocking on Sunny's door. Martyn and Scott were of course the mean gills, and Martyn won through attacking Scott despite all they'd been through together. Basil experienced the trauma with Sunny but still ended up attacking him in his fear. Plus with listener lore I feel like Martyn being the only other person to know the truth makes sense. Also, whether you look at it in the celestial bodies interpretation(Grian Sun, Scott Stars, Pearl Moon, Martyn Mars, Scar Earth, Cleo Pluto) or tarot cards interpretation(Grian Sun, Scott Stars, Pearl Moon, Martyn Tower, Scar World, Cleo Fool), the omori characters also match up to those.

Sorry that was a lot of explanation for why I linked the specific characters I did. Onto the flowers! Scott as a poppy actually makes a lot of sense even w/out flower husbands, as it's a flower that symbolizes sleep, due to its use in sleeping gas, as well as death, which both match up with how Sunny acted in game. Pearl is a Datura becuase of its ties to the moon(Moonflowers) as well as its other name(Devil's Trumpet) referencing her Double life character. It is also a very spiritual flower for many cultures, which ties into Aubrey and how she attends church. Cleo being a succulent feels self explanatory, much like Kel's cactus in game they are easy to take care of and grow under many conditions. Scar is lavender because of its associations with calming and devotion. Hero acts as the group's peace-keeper, and Scar with this role would do the same. It also has some medicinal properties like soothing headaches and having anti-inflammatory effects, which I feel fits well. Martyn is a water lily because the season he won was the mean gills season, which I wanted to tie in. Their meaning being rebirth(which also matches the poppy) fits the way that Sunny can only face the truth after Basil nearly kills him. They also symbolize enlightenment, which again aligns with how Basil/Martyn is the only character to know the truth other than Sunny himself. Grian is the red zinnia because firstly, I wanted him to have a red flower, and secondly its symbolism matches pretty well. Familial love, of course, represents how Mari(Grian in this case) was not only Sunny's big sister, but also acted as a sisterly figure to the other kids. While they are tough flowers, they also symbolize remembrance, pointing towards the death of Mari/Grian. I probably could've kept everyone except Scott and Martyn's flowers the same, but I actually had a lot of fun looking into flower meanings and stuff(sorry if it's not al 100% accurate).

I was honestly surprised with how many parallels I was actually able to find here. This really started as a silly thing I played with in my head because I enjoy both of these medias, but the more I thought about it, the more I went "huh, that actually does make sense", so now here we are.

@easily-distracted-by-fandom , I hope you enjoy the ramble. I also hope that I find more people who know what the heck I'm talking about lmao

[gengarghast]

Lilith Dusk: The Wraith of the Leviathan

A short explanation of my Destiny 2 OC.

Warning: This post is going to be VERY LONG!! Do not open below the cut if you don't want it to go supernova.

TLDR: She was trapped on EVIL MUSHROOM SHIP and got dragon ghosts all up in her brain.

Background (For people new to Destiny)

A while ago in Destiny, there was this guy called Calus. Alien space emperor type. He hosted tournaments and games on this giant ship called the Leviathan, and he showered the winners in praise and treasure. And then, he vanished. Roughly around two years ago, during the Season of the Haunted, the Leviathan reappeared, covered in this gross shit called Egregore fungus that feeds on the psychic trauma created by death.

On the Leviathan

Anyways, Lilith was one of the Guardians¹ who were participating in Calus' games, but unlike the others she didn't leave the ship before it vanished. So she was forced to hide and skulk around and steal and survive all the while the ship was overtaken by the Egregore and the Darkness. Her armor is of her own creation, forged from stolen scraps of Ahamkara² bone as well as gold and silver and whatever else she could scavenge- Including the armor of other fallen Guardians who suffered the same fate as her.

Over time, the many, many fragments of Ahamkara bones that made up her armor began developing the ability to psychically communicate with her, and they forged an uneasy alliance- Her wishing³ for basic things in order for her to survive, and the bones keeping her alive so that she could keep wishing.

During that time, she also obtained her two favorite weapons, both also having Ahamkara bone modded into them- Dead Man's Tale, an old-fashioned lever rifle, and Bad Juju, a pulse rifle adorned with the skull of a small Ahamkara.

Eventually with the Leviathan's reappearance, she was able to escape the ship. During that time, she had grown fond of the collective Ahamkara voices that had been bound to her, and they had grown fond of her in turn. And so, she continued to wear that scavenged armor, with some minor professional tuning and tweaks to make it not just bones stuck to armor.

She also ate, like, a lot of Egregore. Like a LOT. Which is how all those Ahamkara bones formed such a strong bond with her mind, because Egregore spores open your mind up to outside influence, or in this case, psychic dragon ghosts.

Lilith "Lily" Dusk

In terms of her personality, her time aboard the Leviathan made her paranoid and jumpy, but very loyal to those she sees as trustworthy. Aside from that, she is also very prone to angry outbursts or getting overwhelmed when faced with confrontation and judgement. After being isolated on the Leviathan for years with only her Ghost⁴ and the Ahamkara voices to keep her 'company', she is terrible when it comes to social encounters and usually bungles it, being rude, blunt, and abrasive without even realizing it. Despite this, she tries her best to be nice.

Also, she doesn't like to take off the armor. She probably sleeps in it tbh-

Glossary

Guardians are the player characters in Destiny, super-powered people who can come back from the dead with the power of Light.

Ahamkara are a species of 'dragons' in the Destiny universe- They wield paracausal abilities that allow them to grant monkey's-paw wishes and remain semi-sentient after death, whispering psychic messages to the one who wields their bones.

Wishing feeds Ahamkara, as they consume the cosmic chaos/energy that results from wishing.

A Ghost are a Guardians' companion, they supply their Guardian with the power of the Light and are able to resurrect them when they die.