#and it sure as h*ll wasn't in the movie

[holidaywishes]

not all monsters do monstrous things...

Part 2: The Girl

  Summary of Series: Delly Cartwright lost her best friend, Peeta, to the games. Now, the one that took him seems to have a soft spot for her.

  Summary of Chapter: Delly’s P.O.V of the events of the last chapter.

  Warning: Some fluff, some angst, some violence

  Author’s Note: I’M BACK WITH ANOTHER CHAPTER! These two obviously were easy because they’re just P.O.V’s of the same events but I still had fun writing them whether anyone reads them or not! I’m aware that the Hunger Games Fandom is almost entirely asleep but I’ve reread the books and re-watched the movies, so I’m back in it. I’m also going to put in here again that the story idea is from a fic I read by Ophelia Tate (I believe that was the name) on FanFiction.net -- so full credit to her! If anyone does end up reading this series, I hope you enjoy it and ship Delly and Cato as much as I do! Also, have to make another note about the GIF. Credit goes to whoever made it, I found it on Google and it wouldn’t bring to the page where I could give credit, but whatever, it’s not mine don’t @ me. You know the drill!

  masterlist

  the other masterlist

xx

Delly’s P.O.V

  You sat beside Peeta’s youngest brother for most of the games but as more and more tributes lost their lives, you invited the Hawthorne’s and the Everdeen’s to watch with you. It helped a little, having everyone together, and the closer it got to the end, the more it seemed like Katniss and Peeta might both make it home.

  “It’s just a role, you know,” you said to Gale, who had abruptly gotten up in the middle of the viewing to put his empty glass in the sink, “they’re not actually in love.”

  “He is,” Gale stated with a hiss, “maybe he knows it can’t work so he’s playing it up more than he would, but Peeta is definitely in love with Katniss”

  “But she’s not in love with him...” you said

  “Does it matter?” he asked and you furrowed your brow, “if they both get out of this alive, it will be because they’ve convinced everyone they’re in love. Which means--” he stopped himself, not wanting to admit his feelings

  “Which means you can’t be with her”

  “And you can’t be with him”

  “I gave up on Peeta and I being together a long time ago,” you smirked, “he was always in love with your dear Girl On Fire.”

  “I just want her to come home safe. If she has to pretend to be with him, so be it. At least she won’t be fighting for her life.” A few days went by and the district couldn’t focus on much else other than the games

  “I think they’re going to make it” someone would say

  “They’re so in love” another would coo

  “I’m so excited to see them back home” another would sigh. The feelings were echoed by everyone in the district but it was still too early to say, at this point there were still six tributes left. You couldn’t deny that you thought Peeta and Katniss’ chances looked good because of what they were selling but you didn’t want to get ahead of yourself. And then, the moment came, when you knew it was over.

  “CATO!” the girl, Clove, from District 2 screams, “CATO!” she shrieks once more, crying out for her district partner but he is nowhere to be found. Tears begin falling from her eyes as she accepts what is now her last moment before a rock is crushing her temple. You could’ve sworn you heard something as her lifeless body fell to the ground; something in the background, a whimper or a scream. You couldn’t quite tell but when no camera’s focused on it, you assumed it was nothing. After Clove died, you knew, as well as anyone you watched the games with, that Cato would come after Thresh, then Katniss and Peeta. He was too strong for either of them to fight off alone, so you made your peace with your loss. Choosing to leave the games early that night and look at a picture Peeta had drawn for you years ago.

  “It’s a sunflower!” His young voice rang in your ear, “it reminded me of you. So lively, so bright. Always pointed toward the sun.” You cried for him, this version of Peeta you’d lost long ago, and the boy you’d lost to the Hunger Games.

  “Goodbye, Peeta.” you whispered to yourself, holding the image close to your chest. You remember it too well, the final day of the Hunger Games. You clutched Prim’s hand tightly as her sister fought Cato atop the large, steel Cornucopia where the games had begun; only for Katniss to be flung into the large pile of ravenous mutts below. Prim whimpered into your shoulder as you stared at Peeta, one of the final two, and you hoped he’d fight all the while knowing he wouldn’t win against Cato. You watched as the two blonde boys faced each other, Cato panting angrily and Peeta furrowing his brow.

  “DO SOMETHING PEETA!” Peeta’s older brother, Flint, yelled at the screen

  “He’s terrified” his mother scoffed but you didn’t see it that way. You’d seen Peeta terrified before. During the broadcast, sure, but also whenever he’d accidentally burn something in the bakery or do something to make his mother angry. The look he was giving Cato right now wasn’t one of terror, it was of pain. How could you blame him. Without Katniss, being a victor meant less than nothing. She was the only thing that made the games worth fighting in, she was the only thing he was willing to fight for. And now that she was gone, you knew what he was planning, forcing your eyes to well up with tears; letting them fall only when he stepped off the Cornucopia to face the same fate as Katniss.

xx

  You had wanted to put the games behind you for good, but that’s not the way it worked. Especially not when you lose someone to the games. Today was the start of the Victory Tour, so you dressed in a soft yellow dress in memory of both Katniss and Peeta. Two Peacekeepers guided you and Peeta’s family to the front of the square, while two peacekeepers did the same for Gale’s family and the Everdeen’s. Your eyes wandered around the square, taking in everyone’s anxiety as they slowly filed in after you. When Cato took his place on stage, he looked taller than you anticipated but younger than he did when he was on T.V. The blood that covered his face must have shielded his youth from Panem.

  “I would first like to thank you for coming out today,” he started, his voice steady at first but it slowly began to falter as he caught sight of the crowd, “this is not an easy speech to make. The lives you’ve lost will be, uhm, will be felt by-- will be felt by the Capitol. Your sacrifices are -- will be missed.” When Prim let out a small sob, Cato turned his focus to her, straying from his carefully scripted speech, “Katniss was incredibly smart and, with the way she treated Rue, I could tell she had a big heart. Peeta had remarkable strength,” he turned to face yours and Peeta’s families. His eyes trained themselves on you and, try as you might, you couldn’t look away, “but for all his strength, he was kind, truly.” The words felt true but they quickly vanished from thought when Gale spoke up, calling the boy from District Two a murderer in a booming voice while Prim pleaded for him to stop

  “You don’t care about them. You don’t care about us!” Gale said, pushing aside Prim so he could confront the large boy who stood on the stage.

   “The Captiol thanks you for your sacrifices. Peeta and Katniss will be mourned.” The words were par for the course from a victor, undoubtedly something that was fed to them from the Capitol. You let out a whimpered sigh at the words but before you could even think to shed a tear, Gale was lunging forward. As Cato tried to walk off the stage, Gale ran to him, cocking back his arm and balling his hand into a fist

  “GALE!” You screeched, even though you knew it was useless, “GALE DON’T!” you repeated, just as Gale released his fist, missing by an inch as Cato turned to face him. You could see anger forming across his features and you feared for Gale’s fate as the boy in front of him, who was now the newest victor, pulled back his arm to throw a punch in return, but he hesitated when he looked behind the curtain on stage. Then, as if Gale knew he only had one choice, he balled another fist, only this time it connected with the side of Cato’s face and blood flew from his mouth at the blow. You and Prim screamed as the Peacekeepers separated everyone, frantically trying to get Cato to safety and discipline Gale. As they tore Gale away, you ran after him followed quickly by his family as well as Prim and Clara. When you finally reached him, you saw his arms tied to the whipping post at the side of the square.

  “I thought that was only there to scare us,” Rory asked, his voice trembling as he knew he was wrong, “they’re not going to actually use it...”

  “It looks like it” Vick replied, a harshness in his tone to cover the fear you knew he had

  “Boys, enough!” Clara and Hazelle rebuked while you and Prim started to walk to untie him. Maybe it was just a scare tactic, you thought to yourself and you could tell Prim was hoping the same thing when two large arms stopped both of you in your tracks

  “Stop right there” roared two Peacekeepers as another stepped closer to Gale. It was the Head Peacekeeper’s outfit, but it wasn’t Cray, you could tell from his movements. When he took of his helmet, you realized it was Romulus Thread and your eyes went wide. He was a callous man, a man who loved the Capitol almost as much as he loved to watch the citizens of this district bleed.

  “NO!” you heard Prim scream when you both saw Thread pull out a whip, “NO! STOP!” she yelled again after the first lash cut Gale’s back. Peacekeepers continued to hold you and Prim back, restraining the rest of your friends and family when they tried to approach, while Gale suffered enough lashes to drain him of all breath

  “STOP!” you screamed alongside Prim now, fighting to get out of the Peacekeepers grasp as tears streamed down your face uncontrollably.

  “ENOUGH!” a voice boomed from the back of the square, silencing everyone there, even Thread stopped his movements. You and Prim looked at each other briefly before the Peacekeepers released their hold on the two of you. You ran to Gale’s side not knowing if the guards would snap out of their trance-like state but needing to help the boy who had become as much of a friend to you as Peeta was. Prim followed quickly behind, frantically untying the knots at Gale’s wrist as you tried to wake him up, hearing him groan lowly, before you helped Prim. When his body finally dropped, he landed on top of you and you felt all of his weight begin to crush you. Prim took one of his arms around her shoulders and you did the same, as you began to walk him to safety

  “Mr. Berenger, sir, I--” you heard Thread whimper

  “Why would you whip this boy?” Cato questioned in a voice all of District 12 had associated him with, “because he mourns his friends? Because he is in pain?” The words he used forced you to stop. Even though his voice was callous and angry, there was sympathy to his words

  “BECAUSE HE ATTACKED YOU, SIR!” Thread yelled as he straightened his posture, only to be met by Cato’s larger frame

  “I don’t need your protection, sir!” Cato countered, sneering down at him as he towered over the new Head Peacekeeper. You watched as the District 2 victor released Gale of his charges and forbid Thread of these acts again. Something about him now, as he fought for a stranger who had just attacked him, reminded you of Peeta.

  “Delly, come on,” Prim whined, making you realize that you’d completely ignored Gale, “what are you doing?”

  “Oh my gosh!” you gasped, doing your best to get your friend to the Apothecary, “I’m so sorry.” When the two of you set Gale down on the table, Prim made fast work of his wounds; soaking them in alcohol to sterilize them, cutting up old cloths to try to cover them as Gale screamed

  “Delly, hold him down,” Clara said as he writhed in pain, “we can’t help him if he won’t stay still.” You stood up, Gale’s right hand clutching your yellow dress as you pushed his shoulders into the table. His screams became quieter and you didn’t have to hold him down anymore

  “He should be okay for a while” Clara said as you pulled a chair close to sit next to him, watching his breath rise and fall in his body before another stream of tears fell from your eyes and you clutched his hand

  “You shouldn’t have done that Gale” you whispered and he seemed to groan in response. Suddenly, you felt a small breeze run through the door, causing you to look up and a gasp to escape your lips. Why was Cato here? you thought to yourself, hadn’t he gone back to the train? You stood up to put a sort of barricade between Gale and Cato before you whimpered “please, he didn’t mean it. He wouldn’t have gone further than a punch, he was just upset..” You pleaded as Cato stood by the door, wiping the water from your face and putting a hand on Gale’s shoulder

  “It’s okay,” he said, holding his hands up, palms forward, in reassurance, “I’m not going to hurt him or take him away. I just wanted to see how you– how he was doing…” More kindness, you thought, this was not the boy that the games had shown you. You furrowed your brow but decided to seat back down

  “The lashes have exhausted him and he’s lost a lot of blood” you said as you rubbed your thumb gently across the back of Gale’s hand, watching as he slept soundly.

  “I’m sorry” Cato whispered, much to your surprise and your head sprung up at the apology, your eyes growing wide as he stared at you. The mark at the side of his face from Gale’s punch was slowly forming into a purple bruise but it didn’t take away from his features. His bright blue eyes seemed to pierce through the tension, making you increasingly comfortable in his presence, and you found yourself examining him. You had always thought Gale was broad but, looking at Cato, he seemed small in comparison, “you must think I’m a monster...” he finally said, snapping you out of your head causing you to clear your throat before you spoke

  “Because of this?” you said, “this was the Peacekeepers, not you.”

  “Because of the games” he corrected, “I’ve watched those deaths more times than I care to admit. I saw how they portrayed me. How everyone else must have seen me.” You thought about it for a moment. Thinking about how cruel he was to Katniss, how he tormented the younger children in the arena and how he used Peeta throughout the games. It would be easy for you to say that he was a monster and no one in 12 would disagree with you, but you couldn’t help but consider everything he’d done for Gale in the square

  “I don’t envy you at all,” you finally said, turning your body in your chair, ever so slightly, to face him more direct, “having to train your whole life to be taught to kill other children. Many your own age or younger. I’ve never understood why death, and the deaths of so many children, was the price the Capitol wanted to collect. You had to do awful things to bring pride to your district and I am very very very… sorry.”

  “Sorry?” he questioned and you nodded

  “Yes,” you said, “to have your life mapped out for you, without your say, couldn’t have been easy. I’m so very sorry that this is the life you were led to believe was all you could have”

  “You’re so kind...” he almost whispered and you smiled to yourself, thinking about how you’d connected that word to him earlier, watching as his eyebrows scrunched together, “no one has shown me this much kindness in my life.” The idea made you sad, that he had never known kindness, but he was from District 2, they weren’t known for kindness there.

  “I don’t think you’re a monster, Mr. Berenger,” he looked at you intently as you spoke softly, “I think you’re lost. Trying to fit an image that the Capitol and your own District has created for you.” He appeared as though he wanted to say something more when someone came through the door, nearly tearing it off it’s hinges.

  “CATO!” a man you recognized barked, it was Cato’s mentor, Wade, “you can’t be here. We have to go. Now!” He brought a frantic energy into an otherwise peaceful space, causing your breathing to increase

  “Take this,” Cato said, handing you a small silver box that he’d had in his jacket pocket, “it’s not much but it should help with his healing.” As you took the box from him, your finger grazed the palm of his hand and you swore you could feel a spark.

  “Thank you” you replied with a smile before he was pulled out of the Apothecary and out of the district. You were left alone with what had happened for only a moment when Prim entered the room

  “What are you doing?” she said, leading you to turn around sharply to face her

  “Here. This is for Gale, from--”

  “The victor?” Prim interjected, taking the box from your outstretched hand, and you nodded, “what are you doing?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Delly, don’t play dumb.”

  “Prim.. I really don’t know what you mean...” She stood silently in front of you for a minute before eventually moving toward Gale

  “Do you think I’m blind? or stupid?” she scoffed, shaking her head

  “Of course not--”

  “Then why are you being so friendly to the person who killed my sister?!” she practically yelled

  “We were talking, he dropped the charges on Gale. Thread won’t do this again, he promised!”

  “Oh sweet, naïve, little Delly,” she sighed, “the promise leaves with the victor”

  “Prim...”

  “HE KILLED YOUR BEST FRIEND!”

  “NO HE DIDN’T!” you shouted in return, shocked at your outburst, “Peeta jumped.”

  “He still killed my sister” she said softly and you walked closer to where she stood

  “I know,” you replied, “he just seemed so... broken. I’ve seen that before, from Peeta, and I just didn’t want him to think that our district is full of cruel, angry people”

  “But we are angry! Why aren’t you?”

  “What good does it do me, Prim? To be angry? That boy has never known kindness, maybe if someone had shown him some, he would’ve done the same to those tributes!”

  “He’s not a boy, he’s a monster!” she yelled and you furrowed your brow, trying to get her to understand

  “You didn’t see what I saw”

  “You’d rather defend a murderer than say something unkind about someone else?!” she argued

  “Enough! Both of you! Stop!” Clara yelled as she walked in the room, “Gale has to rest and your bickering will only agitate him. Delly, I think you should go home, your parents are probably worried sick about you.” You dropped your head, nodding in agreement, before laying a small kiss to Gale’s forehead

  “Delly..” he moaned and you looked up at Prim and Clara

  “Gale?” you said

  “Prim.. Prim’s right” he groaned

  “Don’t move, Gale” Prim said, placing her arms on his back

  “He killed our friends. And so many others..” he tried

  “Gale..”

  “Prim’s right, the promise goes with the victor. Thread will do this again”

  “Okay, that’s enough,” Clara said, “enough talking. Delly--” she tried to send you home again but Gale sat up

  “Believing someone is kind is dangerous, especially when they’ve proven they’re not.” You could tell he was angry as he mustered up the strength to stand in front of you, however hunched he may have been

  “I can’t be angry with him for Peeta jumping off that Cornucopia” you admitted

  “Then be angry that he showed Katniss no mercy. Be sad that your friends and family had to watch someone they loved die”

  “I don’t want to be sad anymore, Gale,” you added, “I miss Peeta everyday but I can’t be sad forever”

  “Why not?”

  “Because he’s gone. They’re gone. But we’re here. And we should be happy to be alive”

  “LOOK AROUND, CARTWRIGHT!” he yelled, “Is any of this actually living?!”

  “Gale...” you whimpered

  “Listen to me, Delly, he is not kind. He is not lost or weak or any of the things that you told him you thought he was.”

  “You heard that?” Gale scoffed, holding onto the table to keep himself steady

  “He is manipulative, that’s how he won the games. He’s a monster. Delly,” he whispered angrily, as tears began streaming down your cheeks, “he’s not Peeta...” You looked up at him, seeing his grey eyes full of nothing but rage, and shook your head at his callousness before running out of the Apothecary. You couldn’t explain to him, any of them, why you were being kind to Cato, you could barely explain it to yourself, but there was something that made you want to comfort him. If for no other reason than the knowledge that you’d never see him again.

[fandom-junk-drawer]

The Witcher Headcanon (Modern AU) - Comfort

Yennefer is strong and independent. She rarely asks for help, and tries to take care of things on her own. She can handle most things on her own, but when it comes to the common cold, she gets...clingy. And grouchy.

First, she will be grumpy. Really grumpy. Bite your head off and feed it to the dogs grumpy. Then, after she lays in her blanket cocoon for a while, she decides she wants cuddles and shuffles out of her room like a zombie. She will hunt down the nearest warm body and cling like a limpet.

Jaskier was still awake when Yennefer dragged herself out of bed. She had been trying to sleep off her head cold, but it wasn't working. She felt antsy, and she was cold. And her nose kept running. And she kept coughing. And her throat was sore....

And Geralt had gone out on a hunt. And she had snapped at Jaskier earlier that morning when he'd just been trying to take care of her, and now she was feeling a little guilty about it, and a little lonely.

He'd been so attentive too...making sure she was comfortable, tucking her in with her old plush cat, making sure she ate and drank, and cuddling with her until she fell asleep.

She supposed her head cold was some kind of divine punishment for laughing when Jaskier and Geralt had fallen out of the van they were restoring while running from the cockroaches that had swarmed out from under the backseat. And the paneling. It had been funny, though...

The bard was laying on the couch, his blanket on his chest, staring blankly at some latenight horror movie. He looked comfortable, and warm. Maybe he would let her curl up with him for a while.

Yennefer croaked his name, and Jaskier jumped with a startled cry that turned into a pained squeak.

Yen-! Oh f***********!

He curled up as pain flared briefly in his groin. Yeah...he'd definitely pulled something falling out of Roach.

Yennefer was standing over him, wrapped in a blanket, and clutching Sammy. In the eerie light of the tv screen she looked like a zombie: pale, disheveled, hoarse...

"You scared the h*ll out me, Yen!" he laughed when he could uncurl again. "I almost p*ssed myself! What are you doing up dear heart? Was the tv too loud? Did I wake you?" Yennefer shook her head and coughed, and Jaskier started to move to sit up and make room for her on the couch.

She didn't even wait for him move. He was still laying down when she crawled up on him.

Jaskier tensed, breath hitching when she settled her body weight on him, but then he grunted in surprise when the pain just...disappeared.

He lay there a moment afraid to move in case the pain decided to come back. But it didn't, and he turned his attention to Yennefer when she shifted a little so she could lay her head on his chest.

"You miss that big idiot Witcher, huh? Well, I'm not as warm as Geralt, but I'm warmer than Sammy, and a better cuddler." Jaskier patted the stuffed cat on the head "No offense, Sammy."

Yennefer smiled a little and lightly held on to him, rubbing the thin material of his t-shirt between her fingers like she usually did to Sammy's ear.

Sorry I snapped at you, Songbird.

Hush, now. I know you don't feel well. Everyone is grumpy when they're sick. Except for Geralt. He's grumpy all the time.

Jaskier tucked her blanket around her lower half, and slowly ran his hand up and down her back. He could feel a little fever heat through her oversized t-shirt (which she'd stolen from Geralt), but it wasn't too bad.

He lay with her like that, humming to her, stroking her hair, kissing the top of her head, and flipping through the channels until she fell asleep. Then he was left watching some bad comedy show while trying to ignore her congested snoring and the drool and snot that was slowly soaking into the front of his shirt.

He would have gotten up and put her back in bed, but he was loath to move her. She had stopped shivering, and she looked so relaxed and comfortable.

He winced a little as he moved and realized that the snot had glued his shirt to his chest hair. Ugh, it was already getting gooey! Maybe the drool would keep it from dying out completely.

Yen muttered in her sleep, twitching a little, and Jaskier carefully tucked her hair behind her ear. "Shhh, I'm here, Yen. I've got you."

Jaskier carefully shifted around, bending his knee to rest it against the back of the couch, and moving his other leg so his foot could hang off the edge of the seat. "Sorry, love, but my legs were falling asleep." he said apologetically when the witch grumbled a sleepy protest.

He rubbed her back in slow circles for a few minutes until she was properly back asleep, then tucked Sammy under her arm. He reached down and picked his blanket up off the floor from where it had fallen ealier, and put it up near his head, out of the way of the snot and drool puddle on his chest.

Jaskier yawned, finally begining to lose the battle with sleep. He worried briefly what Geralt was going to think if he came home and found them like this. It wasn't their usual way of cuddling.

He hoped the Witcher wouldn't think they were doing anything behind his back. Sure Jaskier had a reputation, but surely Geralt wouldn't think...surely he knew him better than that?

He loved his friends, and he'd never hurt them like that! Sure, he called Yennefer sexy (because she was), but Yen was special to him.

She was both the motherly older sister and the How Much Trouble Can We Get Into Today sister he didn't know he'd been missing.

He loved her and he would never jeopardize their relationship. I'm not the kind of guy who would go behind my best friend's back with his lady!

No, you'd blatantly do it right in front of him! came Yen's barely coherent, yet amused thoughts in his head.

"Reading my thoughts again, dear heart?" Jaskier whispered with a quiet chuckle, kissing her hair.

Distorted images of a 10ft tall Yennefer putting her foot up Geralt's backside danced through Jaskier's head.

Jaskier responded with a sleepy smile and hugged her "I know, you'll set him straight." He felt her relax in his arms as she her mind voice mumbled affectionately, "Sleep well, Bard."

He whispered fondly "Sleep well, Witch." before finally falling asleep.

[ichirukilover]

Spoilers

Bro I'm CACKLING

What's all this "directly going to h*ll" shit?

I don't remember blech that much but I'm 100% sure this wasn't what was established about hell nor in the beginning or the hell verse movie.

Side note: why is renji always there and not uryu? Apart from just because he's a shinigami and shinigami are popular, I never saw the reason why he's always there? He knows ichi as much as Rangiku knows Ichi.

I've heard that not even the characters in it ever heard of something like that? A CC like Kyoraku not even knowing about it just goes to show how Ku*bo made this bullshit out of nowhere. Watch him retconing it at the end of the little story just because he can lmao

Also on the Uryuu part ku*bo lit said he sees Renjo as ichigo's counterpart or whatever bs he said so Uryuu? Can join the corner and do nothing.