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#annie's imagines!!
astraystayyh · 9 months
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the premise : u apply lipgloss on felix because ofc he suits glossy lips except it takes an emotional turn???? because felix is perfect sorry. this is fluffyyyy and the sanest reaction to this man being ur bf (and these pics. these pics....)
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“lixie, stay still,” you giggle, body nestled between felix’s legs. He's leaning against the bathroom counter, hands propped on the sleek ebony marble as you apply a shimmering lip gloss to his lips.
“but don't you wanna know what changbin said to me?”
“of course i wanna know what creative pickup line he used on you today. of course i do, baby,” you smile and he rolls his eyes at the sarcasm dripping from your tone, his tongue poking against his cheek before gliding in (fake) annoyance over his lips.
“but…” he muses, tilting his head to the side, his hands finding your waist once again (they've been away for two minutes too long).
“but when your mouth moves i can't technically apply lipgloss to it.”
“maybe you're just a bad make-up artist,” he teases, before quickly planting a kiss on your temple. “kidding baby. you're the very best at everything you do.”
“you're actually incapable of being mean,” you laugh heartily, your thumb swiping across his chiseled jaw.
“i am very much capable of being mean,” he pouts, his eyes widening slightly, golden light spilling into his pupils— it refracts into an arrow delving straight into your heart.
“you can't say this in the softest voice and expect me to agree.”
“i am very much capable of being mean,” he repeats, only this time his timber is many many octaves lower. his voice reverberates straight through your stomach, a deep melody orchestrating the untamed butterflies in your stomach.
“this is the equivalent of a kitten throwing a punch to me,” you pull his face closer, and he shakes his head, mouth shut tightly as you reapply the glitter infused gloss on his lips, going delicately over his cupid's bow. his eyes are boring onto you, yet you don't shy away from his gaze. it is a kind one— like a blanket knitted with love thrown over your body.
“done,” you whisper, hands trailing up to his hair, blonde silky locks akin to threads of sunlight. you think he must be favored by the stars— how they stored the sun inside every component of his being for him to keep safe.
“you have the prettiest lips,” your voice is suddenly hoarse, thumb grazing slightly over his lips, ones shaped like a heart— akin to the one freckle he has right underneath his eye.
it wasn't enough for him to have the kindest soul, no, love needed to be etched onto his skin too.
“felix,” you rasp out his name.
he catches your tears before you sense them falling, swiping his thumbs delicately on your cheek. “angel?”
“you're an idiot.”
“am i?” he brings you to his chest swiftly, your nose buried in the orange blossoms and sea notes of his skin— your home, the one you'd recognize in blindness, in despair, in safety, in love.
“i wanted to apply this lipgloss on you because shimmer would suit your angelic lips and then we'd make out. but you just had to be so beautiful and pure that it makes me wanna cry.”
“I'm sorry,” he says and you giggle, more tears spilling from your eyes.
“see, this is what i mean. why are you apologizing. this is so silly and you're so perfect and i can't believe you love me.”
“well i do,” he leans away, kissing your forehead tenderly. the sticky lip gloss lingers on your skin. “i love you so much, angel. i will only ever love you.”
“promise me?” you ask in a feat of vulnerability almost foreign to your being.
“i promise.”
you believe him.
“thank you. please don't put this lipgloss near anyone else or it'll make them cry too.”
“i think that's just you baby,” he grins, his thumb swiping over your thigh comfortingly, then, his nose brushing against your own. “kiss?”
you close your eyes, a sigh of relief, of longing escaping your body. “please.”
to be loved by felix— maybe you're the one favored by the stars after all.
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hughiecampbelle · 2 months
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Supe Preference: Asking You Out
Requested: hi, idk if you write for the supes, but I will try request anyway :D how would the supes ( the boys series) ask a gn reader out? Ty - anon
A/N: I hope this is okay my love! I tried to stay true to character as much as possible, so I'm not sure how romantic some of them are. I tried writing for new Supes too, at least new for me, so apologies if it's not totally in character! Feedback is always appreciated! 💜💜💜
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Homelander doesn't exactly ask you out. Rather, on live TV during an interview or event, he grabs your hand and proclaims that you're in love, that you're a couple. Whether or not you're into him, it still comes as a shock. Afterwards he'll ask you on a date where the public and paparazzi can see and take pictures. It's not as intimate as you'd like, but the date goes well. He takes you to an expensive restaurant where you've gotten rid of your suit for something classy and elegant, but he sticks with his regular attire. It's definitely not how you were expecting to be asked out or how you thought your relationship would progress. Ashley thinks it's great! You are both insanely powerful and, for selfish reasons, she wants Homelander off her back. She appreciates that you'll take some of the attention off her.
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The Deep probably makes more than a few inappropriate, crude, raunchy jokes about and around you before he properly introduces himself. It's almost compulsive the way his jokes come out. He just can't help himself. He later apologizes and asks to start fresh. Would you want to go out on a date with him? When you say yes, he instantly tells you about all his ideas. You could go to the aquarium or to dinner or to the amusement park or coffee or whatever you want to do. You stick to coffee. It's pretty cute how excited he is. He wasn't expecting you to say yes, so he really didn't have it planned all the way through. He was expecting, like everyone else in his life, for you to call him stupid and move on without answering.
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A-Train and you have been dating forever, but you haven't been out on a date in ages. He's still shy trying to ask you out even now. Of course you say yes, excited you'll get some time alone. You might have to reschedule once or twice because Homelander is on the rampage, but when you do get together, he takes you rollerskating. Despite how fast he is in sneakers, he's awful on wheels. He holds your hand the entire time and definitely drags you down when he falls. He stays pretty casual in his clothes and tries to keep his hood up, but it just falls down. You guys find a roller-rink in the middle of nowhere, so you're pretty safe in being discovered. You make fun of his clumsiness and check him for bruises when he falls, especially hard. He makes the same joke over and over: that he "fell" for you. You think he's an idiot, but this is by far one of your most favorite dates.
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Queen Maeve asks you out over text. When you say yes, she shows up in her civilian clothes. She makes sure she isn't followed and that Homelander is distracted the entire day. She takes you to the movies. It's dark and secluded, but she knows you love movie theater popcorn specifically with all the butter and the blue raspberry slushies, and you picked the only movie not funded by or produced by Vought. It's a really terrible comedy, but you two can laugh at it anyway. Maeve even holds your hand during the movie which makes her heart beat out of her chest. Afterwards she makes you stay after to kiss you and tell you she had a really great time. It's the first time in forever where she's felt like a real person whose allowed to do real person things. She wants to get your read on it, but you're both excited for a second date.
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Firecracker would ask you on a date to some fast food restaurant where you can get the best greasy food and the thickest milkshakes. She'll definitely be sported because she doesn't go incognito and ends up spending a few minutes at least taking pictures and videos for everyone who wants one. She apologizes for them, but secretly, she loves it. You don't mind. You knew what you were getting into when you said yes to the date. She tells you about her life growing up and her past with Starlight. You tell her about your own life and how you came to New York to follow your dreams. She tells you about joining The Seven and what she really thinks of Vought. It isn't the most magical date, but you're glad you said yes. It made you feel like a teenager again, getting food with your old crush, trying to play it cool when you're actually freaking out.
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Soldier Boy doesn't really ask you out on a date. You two *get busy* in bed and afterwards he asks if you'd want to go to a bar. You say yes and find yourself at a local hole in the wall, a place that definitely doesn't see new faces. Most of the patrons are as old as Ben would be if he'd aged. He looks so familiar to them, but they can't figure out where he's from. An old friend? An old co-worker? Regardless, they don't pay attention to the two of you. You and Ben start trying to out drink one another and though his tolerance is astronomically higher than yours, you keep up enough to impress him. You two probably go back to bed and keep drinking, sharing stories about your lives between sweaty sheets and shared sips of whatever booze he has lying around. It's not too official, but you both kind of think of it as a date.
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Bonus! Annie asks you to go bowling with her. Like in the show, she plays it off like she's not very good until you point it out to her. That's when she starts kicking your ass. She's really embarrassed and worried that you'll think she's showing off or just trying to make you feel bad, but you love it. You love her strength. You love her showing off and almost breaking the pins with the ball. You get really awful bowling alley food and beers, and it's a really fun night despite all the drama that comes with being Starlight. It's the first time in a long time she's felt normal and safe and excited to be here, excited to be herself. You're not shy about asking for a second date, though you know you're risking a lot by wanting to be with her. She makes that known before anything else.
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jowbokitten · 3 months
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Cursed deer Alastor
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temeyes · 6 months
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dad-daughter bonding ft. ghost and his bubba girl
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ridingtorohan · 6 months
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How the shifters react to you having a high body temp, knowing that it represents your platonic/romantic attraction to them
Goofy headcanon time!
Each titan shifter can recognize how another shifter feels about them based on their body heat. This includes all attraction: familial, platonic, aesthetic, romantic, so on.
SPOILERS for shifter identities AND events up to Season 4 Special Literally everyone has some spoilers for the anime to some extent. Older shifters like Kruger and KSaver is excluded, but there's 11 listed. It's in order from oldest to youngest.
‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎Masterlist _ Join the taglist!
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ZEKE YEAGER
He feels it for a second, when your knuckles brush against his wounded shoulder, fastening his restraints tighter, making sure he's secure while transporting him out of Marley on the blimp
Blue eyes darting to you, tracing the features on your face, lingering for a second on the titan marks beneath your eyes
Then he focuses on the task at hand, filing that away for later
He has a lot of time to stew on it, the simmering heat under your touch. Low but steady. Lucky for you! You're assigned to his guard detail in the forest with Captain Levi
Shifter to shifter, you're able to relate on a different level than he does to Levi.
Also makes note how you drop to ice cold when the horrors of Shiganshina. Probably realizes that's where you snagged yourself a titan ability.
Listen... if you saw him coming out of the Beast........... you're smoking, iykyk?
Because he's a little shit, he uses it to his advantage. Makes full eye contact with you during conversations, leaning forward. Which makes it interesting when you or Levi nip off his arms to restrain him and you have to give him a drink.
Leans in nice and slow, eyes staring directly into yours, letting you watch him as he takes a long, slow sip. Licks his lips, knowing you're watching him, leans back, eyes lidded. "Thank you, I was terribly thirsty"
Levi kicks his teeth in
Lord have mercy on you for when it's time to bathe
He literally will always use it to his advantage if you let him but will never clue you in unless you already know
Zeke will tease you about this, pressing a cigarette to his lips, his arm or leg brushing yours. "Are you cold? I can help you feel warmer" (Levi is murdering him with his eyes in the background)
Y'know maybe he does warm you up later 😏
Probably starts warming up to you shortly before his jailbreak, though it's hard to tell in what way.
After this point, it's a little too late to do anything else about it.
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LARA TYBUR
Bro you hardly even realize that she's a titan at first.
As a titan inheritor, the Marley Gov't requires that you and your fellows play nice with the Tybur family whenever they visit.
She's tepid temperature at first, your thoughts and ideas making you a little colder to the touch.
You brush against each other at some fancy schmancy dinner party. She act very much like an Eldian at the party, silent, refilling your cup and you thank her.
Later, you're just feeling soo awkward with her family, with watching Willy dance around his family, laughing and jesting.
Some of the Warriors keep trying to make guesses as to who the Warhammer is but ultimately you don't figure it out
You try your luck at befriending all of them, painfully aware of Willy's eyes on you every time you talk to his sister
But something about Lara keeps drawing you in. Her quiet demeanour, the sleek attire, her proper figure. Dutiful and classy, voice quiet but confident.
Telling her about books and the latest movie, offering tea and biscuits from your Zone whenever you visit.
She never says anything about your body temperature and honestly you don't touch her often enough to notice a difference
But you do notice that she talks to you a little more, lingers by your side more than she does anyone else
During the attack, you do everything you can to defend her crystal - so painfully, carefully aware of how it burns under your titan's hand
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REINER BRAUN
Sorry, he's made to suffer. Nothing in his life is ever easy. Isayama decided that. (And so did I.) (There's a happy ending, I promise.)
Things would be simpler for Reiner if everything went well, if he became a great warrior, if his father noticed him, if he did well on his missions. The first thing that goes wrong is Marcel.
When he meets you for the first time, a memory tickles at his mind. Something familiar in the way your skin touches his. Then he gives you a smile, introducing himself and Bertholdt.
Something about you always drew him in. He'd watch you across the training yard and smile whenever you looked at him. Always glad to help you out, shedding himself of the warrior skin and so much easier into the soldier one.
Sucks as a sparring partner btw. Always checking to make sure he didn't go too hard on you.
At some point you probably made mention of him working up a sweat during the training. His body temp is not much warmer than normal but noticeable. Everyone in the Cadets is his pal but there's something special about you
You, who feels like they've had a bit too much sun, but still comfortable.
With time, it may increase to a warmth that lingers in his bones, reminding him of his mother's teas and fresh bread.
He really likes wrapping his arms around you for this, a big bear who just holds you tight to his chest. Big squish!
Likes to clap his hands to your shoulders from behind, feel your warmth in his hands
If you are this warm, he'll always do a little start when you touch him, caught off guard. With as often as he's thought about you, he'll become a bit flustered at times - he begins to entertain a crush and/or getting to know you better.
However, a part of Reiner always remains..... apprehensive
Lays awake at night wondering about you, your tale of being orphaned, family long dead. Something not quite settling
This is what stops him from actually getting close-close to you
At Utgard Castle, it's obvious why something niggled inside him at the sight of you. Because one day, when his dreams were shattered by a boy, a titan lunged out of the ground. That's how you inherited the Jaw
It explains everything, in the end. He may not have recognized that you were a fellow shifter but he did recognize the body heat
You, unfortunately, are either kidnapped or agree to go along with Reiner and Bertholdt in the forest.
You are, either, an unfortunate soul cast out of Marley or a former warrior candidate who was cast out alongside your family thanks to Zeke's efforts years prior. If the latter, Reiner does mention it to Zeke in hopes of him sparing you because, technically, you are on "their" side. It's not a positive outlook either way.
Knowing your fate in Marley, Reiner spends time with you. Painfully aware of how broken his betrayal meant to you (if you're colder) or how you still believe in him (if you remain the same/increase)
Above all else, Reiner considers you a friend and he's so sorry.
If, by sheer chance, he leaves you unsupervised or your chains a little loose to "let your blood circulate" and you accidentally escape, he won't be upset.
And if, he saw you, years later, doing recon work in Marley.. and your eyes caught, he would make the conscious choice to turn away.
Marcel may have been his first mistake but he doesn't regret these two.
Very awkward when you join forces with him to take down Eren.
Reiner remembers the last time he saw you, what your touch felt like.
But the thing about Reiner isn't that his soldier personality was a persona - it's still him. He still cares for you. At this point you know what the touch means, can't blame it on the campfires. You may or may not have trusted him before but you trust him now.
Your hand slides in his, reminiscent of your first meeting, letting him know. "I trust you, Reiner. We'll work with you"
He'll still be withdrawn from the Paradis group but ... his feelings about you never really stopped. Time, distance and circumstance may have changed it, but never stopping it.
He thinks of your touch, even now, even during the final fight.
And, when everything is said and done, when the titan blood doesn't linger in either of your veins, Reiner knows how you feel by the look in your eyes.
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BERTHOLDT HOOVER
Whatever you do, do NOT think about Bertholdt touching a non-Marleyan shifter after he escapes beyond the walls. Do NOT think about your touch burning under his, with Bert pleading for Zeke's mercy. Because despite everything, you still thought so highly of him.
Real talk: THIS GUY IS THE REASON YOU BECAME A TITAN SHIFTER
Unfortunately, despite being a fellow warrior candidate, you weren't chosen. Your score was a smidge below what they were looking for.
Bert was one the first to shift. In the practice field where this is done, he, unfortunately, steamed the heck out of you. Bad enough that it was a matter of getting medical attention asap. Fortunately, thanks to your score, the generals decided that you would be swapped out with one of the candidates and inherit a titan!
This is Bertholdt's first memory as a titan, by the way. :) He feels beyond terrible for what happened.
But having grown up together, helped each other through the trials and training... you two wind up being friends. Decently close, because he winds up telling you about his family, what he's doing for his father.
Bert looks up to you a lot. Always staying by your bedside when you got injured, kept a Band-Aid in his pocket for whenever you tripped during the training. (Or if he does. As gangly-limbed as that boy was, that happened often too.)
He knows but also doesn't about the significance of the warmer touches. It was probably one of those tidbits that was filed away for later and then forgotten. It doesn't matter when you're in bed injured and recovering from the heat damage he literally inflicted on you.
Super caring. Always having to talk both of you out of trouble when you wind up in it. But Bertholdt finds himself admiring that anyway, how different you are to him. (He's actually so thankful that you're a warrior with him, even if this was the worst way for it to happen.)
The other warriors clue in that you two are close but don't really comment on it. "Good for them" stance.
Bertholdt likes sitting next to you! Thighs brushing, his leg touching yours. Just small intimate moments that mean the world to him.
Then Marcel gets attacked and all Bertholdt can think about is 'thank god it wasn't you'. He'll stay wide awake watching you sleep at night, only nodding off when/if you let him sleep beside you, his palm on yours.
During training, Bertholdt finds a lot of comfort by sleeping next to you. Even if he ends up sprawled all over your body.
Thing is, Bertholdt doesn't really quite piece together the heat thing. Just knows that you're his, in some shape or form, that you're what's making this mission bearable. He doesn't miss Marley, he just misses you whenever you're not around.
Gets fidgety if you elect to join a different faction from him. But he understands. (But when you walk past him during the scouts enlistment, his hand catches yours for just a moment. Just for this. Because no matter what you mean to him, he wants you to stay.)
Fake dating trope because how else are you supposed to inform Bertholdt about the information you gathered while in the interior?
Everybody believes the ruse lmao
And, the thing with him is, there always feels like there's going to be more time. Sitting at tables, talking about your days. Reminiscing about Marley and campfires.. it's easy to think that you'll get those days back. That it's just another year, another season, another "one more time" before you get to go home.
For Bert, his feelings are... kind of a catch-all. Could be inferred as romantic or platonic. All he knows is that you're the most important person to him. He's just so glad that he gets to spend your thirteen years together.
And, when the mission goes wrong, when the attempts to kidnap Eren go awry and he has to pull your battered body from your titan, Bertholdt is right by your side, as he always is. There's always going to be another attempt, another chance. (Until there isn't.)
Bertholdt feels like home, his hand warm in yours. (He wants to keep coming back to you.)
Maybe those three simple words are whispered, right before it all goes to shit and you're captured/immobilized and Bertholdt grows desperate to get you back. Maybe you two never say them at all. But when it's just you two, the moments feel like they last forever.
(But you do. You know you have to talk about what this means for both of you, even if it meant defining your friendship in a different way. And he'll stutter and stumble over his words but listen intently, knowing that nothing is worth the cost of losing you. And he's secretly so relieved that you feel the same way, no matter what form your affection takes shape as.)
Bertholdt will cherish your friendship for as long as he lives.
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PIECK FINGER
Whoo! Titan! Bes - ties!
Warrior trainees together, it totally sucked when you were passed over and Pieck inherited without you. She's pretty chill about everything, walking down the street with you while holding hands, throwing her arms around you constantly. Letting you ride atop her titan's back while she runs around the airfield.
Consider your relationship with her a mix of her squad and Porco
Legit you both are close before you even get a chance to inherit your titan, which you do! Eventually!
She's honestly not that great at explaining how titan shifting works or how to "focus" and "control" it but she'll help you get your bearings by walking around with you in titan form
Her body heat is like a heated blanket, warm and comfortable, ooey gooey melting cookie in your mouth kind of warm.
If you're ever on a long trek together, it's easy to doze off next to her, backs pressed together or her head in your lap.
Honestly she probably doesn't even think to mention how you feel to her, or acknowledge what it means. Pieck is happy with everything you are, how it feels with you.
actually tbh might comment about it everytime she springs a hug on you
"Incoming hug! Ahh... this is nice. you're so warm😊"
Your warmth is so comfortable to her. She's often nuzzling against you.
Honestly you guys would be borderline romantic, even if one/neither of you felt that way. It's just how you two are.
If you do cheek kisses, she'd be all up for that.
If you're romantically attracted to her, it'd be a seamless transition. Like you could invite her somewhere and mention it's a date and she'd just go "oh yay :)".
Otherwise at some point someone comments about how you two are always together on outings (calling them 'dates') and Pieck just goes "yes. :)" then later when it's just you two, "it really does feel like a date sometimes, doesn't it?"
Definitely respects it if you're not interested in her that way + just think of her as a sister or best friend. She won't change how she interacts with you at all (unless you mention that it makes you uncomfortable)
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ANNIE LEONHARDT
A year (or a few) older than her, your family has warrior heritage; it’s a point of prestige and honour for you, moreso than for normal candidates. You have an expectation and responsibility to your ancestors to follow through. Of course you’d get a titan. Especially the one your family has meticulously trained for again and again; it’s not so much about the high esteem but keeping it in the family. Inheriting their memories. (For giggles, imagine it’s the attack or female titan.)
By the time Annie and the other warriors are partway through their training, you’ve all but confirmed your spot. It’s just a matter of establishing which one you’ll get.
You’re not exactly friends with Annie initially, especially with her aloof nature. But she’s companionable, sitting quietly if you ever approach her. Everything about her at the start is like that - withdrawn, solemn. Just as focused on her duty as you are. Either you find companionship over this fact or in spite of it - finding life worth living outside of being a candidate.
When you’re recovering from your inheritance, Annie is the one to tend to you. While you don’t remember a lot of it, amnesia getting the better of you, you’re almost certain that she was holding you.
Annie often watches as you continue your training, especially as a titan. She’ll gladly train in titan hand to hand combat with you once she inherits the female titan.
All the shifters are given books to learn about how to best utilize their titans. As they’re leafed through, it’ll mention the odd quirk of the shifters. Pieck is the most excited for this, followed by Reiner. It becomes a point of conversation, where everyone compares their temperatures - though Annie is quite reserved about the whole ordeal. She takes pity on Bertholdt who feels hot to her touch, though she does throw him under the ringer. You, though? She says not much at all, calling it quits at that point (if she hasn’t already).
She doesn't make a big deal of it at all, merely treating you like another candidate. One that she gets along with better than anyone else, at any rate.
In the group, you're dubbed "Annie's best friend". If Annie ever hears of this, you never know.
When it's time to leave for the wall, her knuckles brush against yours. The only indication that she's restless and has any qualms about what they're doing.
But as children honed for war, sometimes rivalries are hard to beat. Especially when the first tragedy strikes your group and Reiner takes the lead, leading you to wall. To mayhem. Murder is a different burden to bear, one that sits funny in your throat.
She sits with you at the refugee camps. While you've never seen her grab extra portions of food, she always seems to have some for you. She takes care of you (and you remember your first shift, how she had been the one to hold you).
Joining the Police is the only sane decision, the inner network so much like Marley. So much like home. You're relieved when Annie goes with you, even though you think it was for duty. (You never know if it was.)
Hitch gets added to the short list of Annie's friends. But nobody replaces you, nobody knows her as well as you do. You know each other's mood, the subtle raise of her brow or scrunch of her nose.
She takes her duty seriously - but she takes you seriously too.
You're the only comfort from home she has.
In the forest after she's hacked up by Levi, you're the one to grab her. To take her back, tending to her as she's cared for you so many times.
Unfortunately your close bond makes it easier to seek you out as a titan. Easier to goad you into advancing attacks, to defending her honour from horrors Armin promises she's enduring.
For you, Annie felt like home more than Marley ever had. Siblings, best friends, lovers. Whatever you felt for her, it was strong.
If you get a chance to see her chrystalized, you touch it desperately, trying to feel a sense of life inside. And you feel it, an echoing thrum beneath your hand.
She mentions it, later, when you two are alone on the ship. "I don't remember what you said, but I felt you." (She always has.)
And when you both go to fight Eren, fighting for something you want so desperately to keep now, you feel her knuckles brush against yours like they did so long ago. When you two were sworn to duty, marching to the walls. This time, you take her hand and never let go.
If you both survive this, she'll show you exactly how much you mean to her.
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YMIR
100000% figured out you were a titan shifter because of this.
Her memories of the castle are hazy at best; initially she only remembers the heat and fog, the truth of Christa's real name.
While she knows quite a bit about her titan and its abilities, she doesn't know anything useful. The body heat memories? She knows it. Knows how her previous shifter learned about it, knows how he felt about his comrades.
She's hardly had reason to touch you before this, but like she figured out Reiner in the castle (they touched briefly) she also knows who you are. Knows the truth of your Marleyan roots.
Like Annie, you had been more distant from the group and more independent - you weren't as easily found out compared to them. At that point, it was only Ymir who really knew. Go, you. Clap yourself on the back for a job well done.
As well as you'd hide your identity, unfortunately the capture must take precedence. With Annie compromised, Reiner and Bertholdt outed, you have no choice but to pick up their slack.
Eren is fucking pissed that you're a titan and regardless of your involvement with the walls breaking, often voices his displeasure towards you loudly.
Ymir saw it coming so she takes it in stride and is dismissive towards you. You two really don't get a chance to speak, not until she's back in Marley and that's all that's left for her. Stone walls and iron bars, her complacency and feeling like a debt is owed is what keeps her there.
You sit with her most days, where she eventually opens up about the cadets. That's not to say you're best friends, but she's not dense enough not to take advantage of how you feel about her.
Listen, if you're not a woman, you stand no chance. If you are, she might confess her feelings towards Christa, how Christa helped her change as a person, how she felt like she could be herself.
How she could be herself around you, too.
While Ymir was never as buddy-buddy with you as she had been Christa, she had often roped you into being indebted to her, owing her favours one way or another.
She's back to her usual tirade even while imprisoned, using those unreturned favours to charter better meals or pen and papers. Most days you watch her write, rewrite, try to figure out what she wants to pen to Christa. Ultimately she writes her final draft with Reiner and leaves it in his possession.
Ymir is never quite hostile towards you, not when she learns of your service to your country, to the threat you thought Paradis posed. To the family and people you swore to protect. She understood it. Perhaps better than anyone bar Marcel.
You get a chance to touch her sometimes, changing the irons or giving her new clothes or meals.
There was a time when you were closer, as cadets. When she'd sling an arm over your shoulder, teasing about something or other. That's what it mostly was, her goading you into some tasks for her or taking the fall for things.
Back then, she used how you felt about her against you.
Unfortunately, facing death, she's mellow and more withdrawn. You don't learn much of anything during this time, not verbally anyway. But you learn about what kind of person she was, what role she had before.
And she asks for you to be there when she's eaten. Not directly, but something Reiner tells you later. When he's telling you that you've spoken more to her than she has, that she had tolerated your presence better, that you were the only Marleyan that she looked forward to seeing.
And when you go through her cell later, rifling through what meagre possessions she had, you find a letter addressed to you, hidden beneath leaflets of messy unfinished letters. Thanking you for not treating her as a monster, for not using Christa against her like Bertholdt had. That if she had a choice, she'd want you to inherit the jaw solely for your friendship with your fellow cadets and Christa.
She writes of other things too, little things she noticed about you, tips on how to get better at hiding or hitting. Advice on to living for yourself and not under the charade of the Marleyan government.
There's scrawled out ink, too, of things that she crossed out. She writes in that familiar, knowledgeable but closed off way that she does. In those sentences, under candle light, you can make out her thoughts on the heat exchange, moments from your cadet days. Once, what she would've done if you both had stayed on Paradis. Even a list of favours that she wanted to bank on, teasing remarks written in margins of paper and belittling comments that felt only praising coming from her.
Strange, how you only know her better in death, where you can no longer speak to her and hear the words left unsaid.
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PORCO GALLIARD
the biggest baddest boldest guy who will LATCH ONTO YOU SO FAST MAN. I'm half joking
But he zeroes in the second your temperature spikes whenever you touch him. Turns his head towards you, gesture a little quick, eyes watching you, half-lidded. Aware, aware, aware of what this means
He's always always watching you after this, smirking softly to himself, just nodding along
You're so lucky he feels the same way because otherwise he'd just wrinkle his nose and turn his head away, "ew, you're hot" like the turd he is /affectionate.
Once he notices, Porco will always be hovering over you, in your personal space, raising his eyebrows and smirking when you turn around and bump into him. Gtfo Porco. Always casual about leaning against you, your arms brushing.
Porco doesn't really do cuddling but he'll be annoying about this, lightly touching. all. the. time.
Porco knows what it means. And if you don't say anything about it, he will. Just casually drops the fact about shifter body heat before shoving his hands and walking off casually. Leaving you guessing about his intentions.
Eventually it culminates in frustration because this smug mf won't tell you JACK.
Honestly you're going to have to confront him about this at some point unless one of the others point out the weird dance you two are doing.
(If you get frustrated with him enough that it affects your temp towards him, he'll knock it back so fast. Rubber banding it like a pro. He may be a dick but once it's clear he's making you uncomfortable he'll back off.)
Raises his eyebrows, leaning back. "You know what it means, don't you?" All smug. Leading into him talking about his own temperature, "Well, what do you think it means?" Literally makes you guess about how he feels about you. If you guess romantic, he'll lean his arm up against the wall, getting close to your face, eyes half-lidded. "Yeah."
Free boyfriend.
If you don't do teasing, he'll be more upfront. “You know what it means.” He's reciprocal so even if he didn’t romantically like you if you guess boyfriend, he’ll be like “yeah”.
Again, free boyfriend.
If you're strictly platonic, he'll do a little sigh, expression smoothing and go, “You're my best friend, dumbass.”
Free best friend.
Will become the bitchiest bitch to ever bitch if your temperature ever lowers.
Possessive possessive possessive. Competitive af. “Well, the other shifters don't feel hotter than I do, do they?" Glowers and sulks if anyone teases that your touch feels scorching hot to them.
Other than these instances, he actually NEVER mentions your temp or asks how you feel when he touches you. Would listen intently if you ever decide to describe in detail what his body temp feels to you.
Gets super smug if you mention it in front of the others.
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EREN YEAGER
Sorry, there's no happy way this can end at all. :(
Eren straight up does not know about the heat thing until he inherits the attack titan's full memories.
But he's always kind of ... known in a way too. Every time your hands slap together or you pull each other out of danger, he feels it. The warmth lingering under your skin.
Grisha learned it during his studies with Zeke and Eren inherited that memory. Eren remembers then forgets in that same instant when he inherits his titan as a kid. So he knows, by pure instinct, that it's good. It feels right
He emotionally warms up to you more because of this.
Does not get touchy feely over this, although his hands often linger a little longer on you
There's two paths here. One where you're a Marleyan warrior and one where you inherit it after (jaw or in Shiganshina).
As a warrior, your betrayals burns worse than anything else. He's always suspected Reiner because of his cold+hot flashes but you? You who always burned like a star under his fingertips, who sent a wave of comfort through him?
It stings like nothing else has ever before.
It stings when he's in Marley, bandage to his face and leg, watching the people walk past.
He either waits for you purposefully or has Falco grab you a day/hours before the Marley exhibit. (Conveniently, this would be when Reiner is busy and he has an excuse to talk to Reiner later)
Or you come along with Reiner
It's such a small moment, in the end. His palm meeting yours, or your shoulders touching when you pass him by.
But it's a supernova, lit under his touch. And it settles the idea inside him that Marley and Paradis are the same, that there are people he cares for both in and outside the walls.
As a non-Marleyan, in the end, it doesn't change anything. He's still Eren and you're still you. Despite everything.
He's like a comet when he touches you later, after the rescue from Marley. Even when his knuckles are bruised from Armin's bones, when there's a fire in his eyes and death on his lips
But he's still Eren and you're still you.
And there's never enough time
(There's a memory that you only get later, after Everything. Where you sit together, toes on the beach, shoulder to shoulder. Where his skin is warmer than the sands. Where he tells you in what way he thinks about you. Where he asks you about yours and you answer. And you will remember this with a heat in your throat knowing that you'll never feel his touch again)
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ARMIN ARLERT
I'm absolutely losing it just thinking about going to a sauna with Armin and after he finds out about the body heat thing he accidentally exclaims, "wait why'd you gET COLDER?" (if you do it's def because you went through the mental gymnastics of respecting his body and not getting thorsty)
He honestly didn't even realize there's a difference between normal people vs shifters because he actually hasn't touched the Warriors trio a lot prior to his shifting (so he has no baseline to compare it to). And Eren always ran hot
He really only clues in when he notices that your body temperate is a lot higher than normal and he freaks out a little, thinking you have a fever. Except everyone else assures him that no, you feel perfectly fine to them, what are you on about Armin??
Hange knows jack all about it; it's not a normal titan feature. Armin eventually has to ask Eren, Zeke or Annie about it directly
Gets flustered and comforted by the realization that you care so deeply for him. If you run crazy hot then it'll be like making him face his fear of fire (rip Armin)
If you don't know what the body temp means, he'll be all too glad to inform you! He won't ask you what temperature you feel his touches at BUT would be all too willing to test what influences the increase/decrease!
Turns super red if the experiments get a little too handsy and you both feel each other's temperatures spike
He's actually super touchy feely! Always reaching for you, giving you lingering hugs or brushing at your clothes/hair. He'll take your hand when its just you two, thumb stroking over the skin, basking in your warmth.
Will cuddle if you let him/ask him. Absolutely adores it. Always happy to indulge
If you're crushing on him, this is the thing that tips Armin off! He's so studious and acutely aware of each minute change so he notices when you get a little warmer, esp if you're reacting to him grabbing your arm or brushing something from your cheek
Probably noticed how you act around him too
If you're not crushing on him the it's just an awkward fiasco BECAUSE:
He confronts you about this. You're both just sitting down somewhere, him across from you, knees drawn up as you're talking or enjoying the silence. Eyes downcast as he brings up, "Do you have... feelings for me?" Voice soft, skin even hotter than his tomato red face. He takes your hands in his and looks up at you earnestly, "this is how I feel about you", letting you feel his emotions
In the case that Armin thinks of you strongly as a friend/ally only, he'll let you down gently. By directly referencing his newfound knowledge. Purposefully going "It's interesting that we can tell so much about the other person when you touch them like this" and he grabs your hand, looking right up into your eyes, smiling gently, "Like this. See? You'll always be my best friend" Emphasis on 'always' and 'best friend'. #friendzoned #ripyou
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FALCO GRICE
Sunshine baby, baby boy, my literal son in another universe
He's always holding your hand. You're so cool! A warrior who trained with Reiner, he looks up to you immensely, although your term being close to being up stresses him TF out about Gabi
Listen, you're stuck with little brother Falco who always follows you around, tugging on your sleeve or running off on errands for you. Give him the time of day and you'll have a new dog. I mean child
If you're close to Reiner at all he'll latch on even harder. You're both his parental figures, although he gets so flustered if anyone mentions it.
He's deadset on inheriting the Armour but if you have the choice of who you can give yours to and you pick him, he's gonna cry.
He doesn't remember a lot about his first shift or the events surrounding it, except the smell of burnt flesh and fire in his arms. If you touch him at all when he immediately comes out of his titan, he'll dissolve into hysterics, crying without knowing why, because your touch reminds him immediately of the memory he's almost forgetting
Fortunately, he does forget
When you finally get to touch him after the amnesia period is over, Falco absolutely melts in your arms. Also immediately cries. Because he does know what this means, has studied this in his books, knows it from Porco's memories. Sobs and wails in your arms, feeling so secure and loved. Because you love him and you care for him. After everything he's been through, he needs this
Hugs you so, so tight every chance he gets, getting red-faced whenever Gabi teases him. Hovers by your side a lot, knowing everything will keep being okay so long as he can feel your warmth.
Always touching you, probably gets a little anxious when you leave him alone but eventually comes around.
For the kiddos out there who are crushing on my son, I raise a counter scenario. Just for you. You're now my child-in-law
Training together!! Yay!!
Your grades will vary, though you're definitely behind Gabi on the roster. Sorry, I do make the rules.
Falco excitedly told you about body heat when he read about it in a book!! You two excitedly try to figure out how you'd feel to each other.
Unfortunately, this is about the time he gets a crush on you. So Falco gets so flustered the next time you mention it to him and he ends up blurting that he hopes he never finds out what temperature you'd feel like to him.
Wants to protect you forever and ever, taking a similar route that he does with Gabi in canon.
You became shifters together! Terrible news!
Except when you're both pulled from the napes of your titans. When you have to ride with Connie, forgetting everything except the press of his hand in yours.
Falco may not remember the meaning behind the warmth but knows that it's good, that he can trust you.
Once his memories come back, avoids you to high heavens because he is so acutely aware of the flipside of this scenario. That you can feel how hot he burns because of his crush. He doesn't even think about what your hot touch means for him
You have to chase him down.
Keeps making excuses until you almost fight him trying to get him to settle.
He's definitely heartbroken if you tell him you only see him as a brother/best friend. Probably gets teary eyed and red-faced but accepts it before running off. He'll stop avoiding you after this.
Gets so red if you tell him you romantically like him too.
After the confession or when he's calmed down from the rejection, he comes back around. He's pretty constant at your side and will hold your hand if you let him, reassured by your warmth.
No matter what happens, at least you have each other.
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krazieka2 · 1 year
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Vampire Mercedes lore doodles (and vampire Lorenz bullying)
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formulanni · 2 days
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Susie Wolff as the Empress (redraw):
The Empress is a mother, a creator, and nurturer. She can represent the creation of life, romance, art, or business. The Empress can represent the germination of an idea before it is ready to be fully born, and the need to be receptive to change.
The Empress is representative of the productivity of the subconscious, seeded by ideas.
She is the symbol of the feminine principle - a representation of venus and mother earth. She is nurturing, and a provider.
There is something to her that suggests a mother figure as well.
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Tag list: @st-leclerc @rubywingsracing @saviour-of-lord @three-days-time @the-wall-is-my-goal @albonoooo @ch3rubd0lls @brawngp2009
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gothra · 5 months
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hughie: and that’s not to say that he isn’t handsome at all, it’s just to say that Butcher is a more rugged, 70s kind of handsome, just not the classical 50s kind of handsome, y’know? But Billy could be like James Dean if James Dean was big and buff and hairy, but anyway, I asked him if he’d like to go to Jamaica or someplace warm because I wanna see him in the new bathing suit I got for him, and he said he wants to go to somewhere like Norway or Sweden, and I asked him why, and he said he wanted to “fuck on a Swedish mattress” and try some of their candy and pastries. his doctor said he has to watch his cholesterol and blood sugar, but he doesn’t take anything the doctor says seriously. I don’t even think Butcher speaks Swedish or Norwegian, so I suggested we go to Spain or something, because he can speak some Spanish, but he said he might be banned from the country, and I don’t know if he’s joking about that, but knowing him it could be very true—
annie: so, did you call me for, like. a real reason?
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kometqh · 10 months
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𝐄𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐝 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧
𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐎𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐗 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (fem reader) 𝟓𝐤 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐍𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝐩𝐭.𝟐 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝-𝐧𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭-𝐰𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 ,𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐫-𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐲. 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐥, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐨 𝐢𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝, 𝐀𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚. 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬, 𝐬𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐠𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫?
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Tugging at my hair, the wind brushed past me in a hurry. It came from far away, seemingly always looking for something, never being able to find it. Paired with the wind, a steady but small wave washed up against the shoreline, the thinnest part of the wave just barely scraping my feet.
I looked up at the sky. It was partly clouded, but beautiful nethertheless. The sun was just barely breaking through the horizon, casting gentle light across the beach. It mixed with the blue sky and formed a rose-pink colour across the clouds, the shore and the sea. Was it always so beautiful here? 
I shook my head, casting my gaze to the side, my eyes landing on a lone boulder which sat in the water. The exterior was decorated by lavish long seaweed and a cluster of barnacles. It sat proudly in the water, the waves crashing against it every so often, sprays of water flying into the air. It was a pretty sight. Almost pretty enough to distract me from the anxiety tugging at my heart.
A sliver of water touched my feet, before being dragged back to the sea.
Today is my last year of reaping. Today is the day that decides whether I'll be free for the rest of my life, or whether I will die fighting for my life in a gruesome bloodbath.
Though in this context, freedom isn't exactly what one might think it is. Nobody is ever truly free in Panem.
Someone like me would not survive in any of the arenas we've seen so far. I can barely handle killing a fish, let alone an entire human being, a child. I can feel a shiver travel down my spine, and I shake my head, casting those thoughts aside. Nothing will happen, I think to myself, and continue to look at the splashing waves, hypnotised by the rhythmic back-and-forth movement, accompanied by occasional licks of water against the tips of my feet, which have found respite in the sand.
With a sigh, I lean back on my elbows. Squinting slightly, I observe the clouds. None have any particular shape to them, but it feels comforting to stare at them as they move. Would I get to see them in an arena? I don't think so.
Time passed by rather quickly. When you lay on a beach with no form of watch or clock, a minute can quickly become an hour. And before I knew it, I began to notice some small boats setting out into the sea, as the sun slowly climbed up higher into the sky. It must be what...7am? Maybe 8. That's usually when people wake up to go fishing, since the waters are calmer in the morning.
With a sigh, I begin to think of the day ahead. It is mandatory to attend the reaping. If one doesn't, they'll be dragged out of their homes, whipped in the town square, and then forced to watch. I sigh heavily, fingers digging into the sand beneath me, and with a light shake of my head, I reluctantly heave myself up and off the sand, heading towards the treeline.
Nobody really ventures into the wooden forest, in fear of the peacekeepers that guard the borders of District 4. Although I learned very quickly that they're further out than one might think, many citizens of District 4 have no interest in venturing out, believing that there isn't much out there to be seen in the first place.
But not me.
When I was much younger, I'd often run into the forest to go exploring. There aren't many dangerous animals in there, so nobody would worry unless I haven't returned by the evening.
On one of those adventures, I had discovered a bunch of rock pools. Now that may not sound fantastic, but it was. I saw big animals, at the time I wasn't sure what they were, but now I do - they were seals. All bearing different kinds of fluffy coats of fur, ranging from pure white, to a spotty grey, brown and black. 
After that day, I'd always return at least once a week to observe them from afar. I don't know much about them, and I'd prefer to minimise the risk of being mauled by an animal. But each year, I'd see small seal pups, sunbathing around the rock pools, chasing each other over the expanse of the beach, or cuddling up to their mothers.
Other times, when the seals weren't there, I'd venture further out, playing around the rock pools, observing the little creatures stuck in them. Sometimes there'd be small crabs hiding in crevices, other times there'd be small fish swimming endlessly in circles. 
I'd sit there each day, staring at and observing the different animals, until I'd look up and realise I've overstayed my welcome. On one particular day, I walked around the beach for so long, mesmerised by the waves, gazing at the stars in the sky, that I hadn't noticed it was dark. Upon realising it I had hurried back home, still in a daze, but it was already pitch black by the time I returned, and I had gotten the biggest scolding from my mother, asking where I've been. She was quick to ground me, and I wasn't allowed out of other people's sight for almost two weeks.
Annie Cresta, my best friend, had repetitively asked where I went that day, but I never uttered a word of it to her, only insisting that I had been diving too far from the shore. I've been friends with her for years now, practically since we were in diapers.
A long time ago, we'd go out swimming together in the kelp forests near our homes, they were far away from the main area of fishing, but close enough for adults to not worry. We'd often see sea otters swimming around the kelp, but they stayed far from us. Me and Annie would often follow the otters, as they knew where to get Abalone from. But after each return home, we'd be scolded by our mothers, who insisted we had to stop if we didn't want to get into trouble.
I guess finding abalone and bringing it home without the permission of the authorities counts as poaching.
We'd sometimes share some with other families of trusted friends, but mostly Finnick Odair's family, who were just as close to us.
Anyway, I'm not willing to disclose information about the beach, or the animals, to anybody. Not even my long-time crush, Finnick, the boy with sea-green eyes. I've had a crush on him for years now, but his eyes were always on Annie. I can see why, their personalities match so well, Finnick's confidence and caring nature complements Annie's shy and anxious one. I'm just the third wheel whenever all three of us are together, but I guess I don't mind.
I'll find the right one eventually, I hope.
Too deep in my thoughts, I had failed to realise that there was a low lying tree branch ahead of me. And looking up too late, I walked face first into it. The pain struck me all at once, and I swear I heard a tiny 'crunch'.
"Ah! Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck!" I shouted, hissing in pain. "Stupid branch! Why is it even there?!" I shouted at no one in particular, holding onto my nose tightly. I slowly let go, feeling the burning pain flare up on my skin like a smouldering flame, and then I felt it. The steady flow of blood. It was everywhere. My face, lips, my hands, even my clothes. Who knew a human nose could bleed so much? I looked over myself, crying out at the state of my shirt.
I have to get home, I thought. With quick, long strides, I soon found myself walking through the front door of my house, being greeted by my mother standing in the kitchen, preparing our clothes for the reaping. "I'm home." I said loudly, my tone laced with annoyance, I stepped in and shut the door behind me, walking into the kitchen, still holding tightly onto my nose.
My mother turned her head to greet me with a smile, but that smile quickly disappeared at the sight of me.
Her face paled and her eyes widened in shock, mouth falling agape as a worried yelp left her lips. "What happened to you dear?!" She screamed, dropping everything mid sentence as she made her way over to me.
I rolled my eyes, sighing loudly. "I walked into a tree branch." I muttered under my breath, my shoulders slumping in defeat.
My mother laughed at me, all of the initial worry dissipating from her body. "Really?" She asked in disbelief, howling in laughter, holding her stomach. After two minutes of her laughing, she finally calmed down enough to take a look at my injury, deciding that some cold, wet rag will be enough to soothe both the swelling and the pain. "Annie will be laughing just as much as you, I bet," I said as I walked over to the tap, turning it on, "'Y/n you're so clumsy!'" I mocked her voice, groaning in anticipation of that knock on the front door, awaiting my closest friend to come and retrieve me. I began to wipe the blood off my face and hands with some water, using a towel to dry off after.
Early this year me and Annie had decided to go to our last reaping together. We had both turned 18, and so it would be the last year that our names would be put into that glass bowl. We were ecstatic over it, but at the same time terrified. This was the last year, but what if one of our names gets pulled out? We're both anticipating it, and praying at the same time that it won't happen. It would be devastating, and I don't believe that either of us are prepared to face 23 other tributes in the arena, let alone kill any of them.
But putting those thoughts aside, I decided to focus on the present. I had managed to drown out my mother's voice, but when I tuned in, I realised she was talking about the dress I'll be wearing. It was a sundress, in the faintest colour of royal blue possible, with a frilled, off-white hem. "I wore it years ago, at my very last reaping too," My mother spoke, her hands lovingly gliding over the faded fabric, "I was told that all the boys looked at me that day." She laughed at the memory, now gently holding the dress by the straps, pressing it against my body. "Hold it, dear."
My hands gently held the dress, and I looked down at myself, my eyes widening in shock as I looked over the intricate designs scattered across the expanse of the dress - sunflowers graced the fabric, painted in the faded blue, overlapping each other.
"Go, try it on dear." My mother said, ushering me to my room, "I'll do your hair after, okay?" She said, and shut the door on me before any words could form at the tip of my tongue.
I shook my head with a small smile, setting the fabric down onto my bed. I turned away, beginning to strip out of my blood-tattered t-shirt, discarding it to a dark corner of my room, my shorts and socks following in tow. I walked a few steps over to a large cracked mirror. It leaned proudly against the wall, reflecting the bright sunrays that made their way into my room.
How many hours has it been?
I looked myself over, turning from one side to another, observing. If my name was to be called out...Would I even have a chance in the arena? Most of the kids that are chosen are frail and skinny, others are fit and healthy, and others are strong and tall. Which category did I belong to? With a loud sigh, I moved away from the mirror and back to my bed, where the beautiful dress laid. I looked over it, staring intensely. The sound of birds chirping in the distance, the gentle breeze coming in through my window, and the smell of the sea all invaded my senses at once. I love this place - no matter how difficult life may be. I'll always have some form of a safe place in District 4. If only the circumstances were different, maybe I'd be able to-
"What are you doing?" A voice asked, ripping me out of my thoughts. I slowly looked over to the person, my eyes going first as my head followed suit. It wasn't Annie, nor was it my mother or sister.
"Finnick?! Look away!" I shouted, grabbing the dress, covering myself up. Maybe I did have a crush on him, but that didn't mean I would happily expose myself. "It's not like you've got something I haven't seen already!" Finnick laughed, a wide amused grin gracing his lips, exposing his pearly white teeth. Though in my embarrassment, I failed to hear the dark undertone in his voice. "I don't care! You don't just invade in on my privacy like this!" I said, chucking one of my pillows at him. "Alright, alright! I'll cover my eyes! Is that good enough?" He asked, a tint of amusement still lacing his voice, but the genuineness was unmistakeable.
"Fine. What did you want anyway?" I asked, slipping the dress on as my eyes focused on him like a hawk, making sure his eyes were covered.
"Just came to say good luck, since y'know, it's your last year of reaping." He said, smiling at me as his hands covered his eyes. I smiled with a huff, and smoothened the dress out over myself. The end of it just about reached my knees, but the material was stretchy enough if I needed it to be. I walked over to my mirror, stunned at how it complimented my skin tone, and looked over myself, turning from side to side, completely forgetting that Finnick was even there for a moment. 
"Can I look now?" He asked, his voice so smooth and gentle it made my heart flutter. "Yes, go for it." I said, walking over to him. 
"How do I look?" I asked, giving him a small twirl. The end of the dress seemed to flow in the air like a jellyfish, the beautiful blue turning almost into a gentle wave, rising slightly before it dropped as I came to a stop.
I looked up to Finnick, searching for a reply, but there wasn't any. He simply stood there, silently watching, but his eyes were slightly widened. I cleared my throat, snapping my fingers near his face. "You look great, I'm sure any guy you want will chase after you after seeing this." He said, almost breathless but still confident, a smirk gracing his lips as he looked me up and down through hooded eyes.
I laughed, shaking my head in denial. "No, I don't think so," I said, leaning against the window frame, staring into those pretty eyes of his. I looked him over, noticing that he was wearing a dark blue tank top, along with some form of tight-fit joggers. His hair glistened in the sun, his skin tan from the rays. His hand slowly reached out to me, and his rough fingers gently latched onto the straps of my sundress, toying with the material. 
His touch against my skin seemed to set it on fire. My heart began thudding aggressively against my chest, and I had to focus on breathing normally, fighting the rising heat in my cheeks.
Does he always have to be so touchy? If he comes any closer he'll be able to hear how fast my heart is beating. 
 "Anyway, have you seen Annie?" I asked, quickly diverting his attention, and his gaze. At that he shook his head, looking up from my shoulders to my eyes. "I was gonna see her after you." He said, biting his bottom lip in thought. 
"I'm sure she'll appreciate it, you know how she gets." I finished quietly as a pang of hurt tugged at my heart. Was I jealous?
"Yeah, but it can't be that bad. What are the odds?" He asked, his fingers lightly tugging at the material of my dress, observing how the fabric bounced back to my skin. His eyes concentrated on the material again, his eyebrows furrowing in worry as he remained silent, still chewing on that lip. I observed him, looking over his hair, it looked so fluffy. His forehead glistened, some sweat having built up, his green eyes stuck in a trance. His fingers felt soft against my skin, and his breath lightly fanned over my neck.
I took a deep breath, focusing on how my chest rose up as air filled it, giving myself a spare moment to realise my thoughts. My hands came to hold his own, gently rubbing the sun-kissed skin.
"It'll be okay, if anything happens...I'll be there." I said, giving his hands a soft squeeze, reassuring him softly, "You better get going. She'll think you won't show up." I stroked his cheek affectionately, smiling down at him. I could tell that Annie was at the forefront of his mind, after all, he did have feelings for her, even if he hadn't admitted it. To anyone. But, as a person who believes herself to be in love, I can recognise another person that's in love. Or so I think. "Go Finnick." I said, pushing him away with the tip of my finger against his forehead.
He sent me a quick but charming smile, nodding softly, saying his goodbye's before jogging off in the opposite direction of my house. I began to feel a sadness tug at my chest, and even though I knew I shouldn't feel like this, I couldn't help it. 
That sadness stayed with me for a while, it stayed as my mother tied small strands of hair together so that it resembled a net, it remained as she talked about the dress my sister would wear, it remained whilst my sister gaped at how pretty I looked, picking at her nails in nervousness, it remained until the moment that Annie's gentle fist knocked at my front door.
My mother quickly opened it, greeting her sweetly. A small 'Where's Y/n?' could be heard, and I peeked my head out, ready to go and face our last reaping.
"Y/n? You look...Amazing!" Annie exclaimed, a bright smile on her face as she trotted up to me, extending her arms for a hug. "So do you Annie, so do you." I said happily, careful not to ruin her hair. It was tied up into a thick ponytail, with a couple of braids running through it, and two strands of hair framing her face prettily. My own hair was let down, however the top pieces were tied together into an intricate net pattern. My mother had outdone herself, genuinely.
Annie's hugs were a different kind of love - warm and gentle, but they conveyed everything that her words failed to. I could tell by the way her hands trembled around me that she was anxious. Annie wasn't a fighter or a hunter, and anyone that had been around her could tell.
Someone began running to the front door, stepping loudly onto the floor. I looked behind me and saw Hali making her way towards me, her arms outstretched. "Are you going now?" She asked, her voice quiet. I wrapped my arms around her in a hug, placing a small peck on the top of her head. "Yes, we want to be there early to avoid the crowds." I said, patting her head with one hand. Hali looked up at me with her big doe eyes, her bottom lip quivering.
"I'll see you there, right?" She asked, and I could hear the fear in her voice. I nodded softly, smiling at her. "Yes, you'll see me and Annie standing with the other oldest girls, alright? I'll wave at you too." I reassured her, not letting go until she was ready. She nodded her head quickly, shaking like a leaf.
"It'll be okay. They won't choose me." As I said it, Hali unlatched her arms, stepping a bit away. "Alright, I really hope not. But what if they do?" She asked, twiddling with her hair. 
"If they choose me, then I'll need you to support me from home okay?" I asked, kneeling down in front of her. "I'll need you to take care of mum, and take care of yourself until I return. Is that okay?" I asked, looking at her with a small smile. She nodded her head, wrapping her arms around my neck in a hug. She didn't want to let go, and Annie had to step in and ask 'Are you ready to go' before Hali unwillingly detached herself from me. With a quiet 'yes', I gave Hali one last hug and a reassuring squeeze of her hand, making my way backwards to the door.
"You'll see me for dinner, okay?" I asked, and she nodded her head, wiping away a few tears. "I love you." She said through her tears.
"I love you too, now go get ready." I said, giving her one last hug before walking out of the house, bidding my goodbyes to both my mum and Hali. "Take care of yourself dear. We'll see you there." My mother said, waving to me as she placed one hand on Hali's shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
"You'll see me there, mum. I love you." I said, my mother whispered an 'I love you' back, shutting the door gently. With a heavy sigh, I turned to Annie, linking my arm with hers.
 Annie looked at me worriedly, chewing on her bottom lip - a nervous habit she had picked up over the years. "Do you think we'll be okay?" She asked quietly, looking at me, concerned. I nodded my head, forcing a smile onto my lips, even though I could feel the sick tumbling around in my stomach. 
Suddenly, the air began to feel a bit too warm, and I could feel sweat beginning to cling uncomfortably to my skin. "We'll be okay Annie," I reassured her, giving her a side hug, "You've got me." I said quietly, nudging her to keep moving forward.
The town square wasn't so far away that we had to hurry, yet we made it there in record time. The queues weren't massive, and so we got through to the courtyard rather quickly, holding onto our throbbing fingers. It wasn't long until everyone else had slowly started filing into the courtyard, every person of every age group was there. I looked around, noticing how quickly the yard had filled with people. My eyes then looked at the entrance, trying to see my sister and mother. Soon enough they entered the courtyard, hand by hand heading to the side-lines, where other adults and young children would file and stand. 
Hali's big, wide eyes scanned the area, and she looked like a lost rabbit, all alert and ready to run. She was looking for me, and soon our eyes connected and I sent her a reassuring smile and a thumbs-up.
I then looked forward, staring ahead at the temporary golden podium. There were four chairs situated just behind the single podium and two glass balls on each side of it. One chair is for our Mayor, one for the announcer, and two for the two Victors from District 4; Finnick, and an elderly woman named Mags. Everyone is seated in the appropriate seats. 
Once the crowd begins to come to a stall, the Mayor takes it as his sign to walk up to the microphone, looking up at the big clock above him, clearing his throat.
It struck 12. 
He begins by greeting the citizens, and then proceeds to tell the history of Panem, as he does every year. He talks about the natural disasters, the uprisings, the destruction of District 13 - all of this is old news. After overcoming the Dark Days, laws were created, and alongside them so were the Hunger Games. I manage to tune out his voice, and instead focus on those behind him.
The announcer, who every year comes from the Capitol, gets the opportunity to personally pick out which children will be sent to their deaths in a bloodbath. 
Her hair was styled into some sort of glamorous, 3 story high bun, with a few loose strands framing her oddly sharp face. It was dyed an unnatural golden colour, and had sparkling silver beads embedded into it, two particularly large ones placed just at the tip of her hair strands, sitting comfortably on the frilly material of her sparkling, turquoise two piece - a skirt and a corset, her feather-like, white skin covered by the material of a matching jacket. She really outdid herself.
Seated on her left were Finnick and Mags, both looking over the crowds, both wearing unreadable expressions as the Mayor continues to talk. 
For a second, I believe that Finnick has noticed me, it looked as though he was looking directly into my eyes. His sea-green eyes peeking into my very soul. My heart fluttered, and the butterflies started circling around in my stomach. I felt the heat rush to my cheeks. I took a deep breath, but then I'm harshly hit with reality, and remember that Annie was right next to me, probably looking at him too.
He looks away as the Mayor begins to name the winners of District 4, and stands up along with Mags to wave at the crowds, being greeted with the appropriate level of applause. Curt and short, but it didn't matter. Next, the Mayor announces the Capitol representative, Sylvia Borgnino, and she stands up, waving excitedly at us, making tiny steps towards the microphone, her cheery voice echoing around us in seconds. 
"Happy Hunger Games everyone! And may the odds be ever in your favour!" She shouts excitedly, almost hopping on her toes. 
I guess there is at least one person here that's happy about the games. 
She thanks the Mayor for his kindness and welcoming, and then quickly turns back to us, the audience, her voice changing to a more serious tone.
"And now," She pauses, leaning over the podium and looking over at everyone, "We shall draw the names of the Tributes." She states, slowly walking over to the glass bowl full of girls' names, the sound of her heels clacking, beating at my eardrums.
"Ladies first."
I look over to Finnick, and then Annie, and then Hali. Hali is already looking at me, and so is my mum. I reach my hand out to hold Annie's, squeezing tightly as I feel how clammy her hand is, my chest tightening as I breathed. I swallow an imaginary lump, feeling how my throat constricts uncomfortably.
The sun was beating down on us, its' rays glazing over my skin, bubbling up sticky sweat. Were did the clouds go?
Wearily, I glance up at the large clock towering over us, its' heavy ticking weighing down on my shoulders.
Sylvia Borgnino's gloved hand shoots up into the air dramatically, and the crowd collectively goes silent. No one dares to even breathe as she animatedly rummages through the name cards for a solid 10 seconds.
It better not be me. I swear if it's me I will riot, I think to myself. The nerves tickle at the inner lining of my stomach, and for a moment I believe that I might throw up.
A bead of sweat trickles down the side of my forehead
Tick, tock.
Was the sun always so hot?
Tick, tock.
I swallow heavily.
Her hand grasps onto something, and she dramatically withdraws it, menacingly crossing over to the podium.
"And the female tribute from District 4 is.."
Please not me. Not me. My breathing quickens as she draws on her silence, smiling devilishly down at the crowd. My hair was sticking to my neck, creating an unpleasant sensation. 
I swallow dryly, my mouth feeling as though I had been deprived of water.
As the words leave her mouth, I can feel my heart drop.
"Annie Cresta."
Time seems to stop. I can no longer feel Annie's hand in my grasp, her fingers having slowly slipped out. I turn my head, feeling my chest heaving up and down, tears pricking at my eyes. My hands fly up to my mouth in shock, intense tremors travelling from my shoulders up to my fingertips.
Annie falls to her knees with a thud, hiding her face in her hands as she cries out hysterically, her mane-like hair looking like a flame. I follow suit, embracing her in my arms, whispering quiet 'It's okay's', holding her head on my shoulder. The other girls slowly step away, creating a circle around us.
What do I do? Do I let her go? That girl won't last a minute in there!
Two peacekeepers rip through the crowds aggressively, roughly pushing anyone out of their way, before coming to a stop in front of us, heaving Annie up by her arms, ushering her towards the stage. Her face is covered in sweat and tears, her fiery hair sticking uncomfortably to her face, her mouth wide open as she wails.
"Please! No! I can't go in there!" She screams, digging her heels into the ground, protesting, thrashing her arms around. She looks as though she suddenly became haunted, a sort of violent air surrounding her. 
With small footsteps, I attempt to follow after her, but more peacekeepers arrive to stop me, creating a blockade of bodies. I look towards my mother and sister, eyes wide, and see their shocked faces. My mother is shaking her head in a 'no', but it's too late. Hali looks at me wide-eyed, tears starting to fall from her eyes as she senses what I'm about to do. 
I look to Finnick, noticing that he had stood up from his chair, his fists clamped shut, once tan skin now having turned a strained white colour. His eyes are stuck to Annie, and never dare to leave her once.
Before Sylvia Borgnino can utter a single word, I raise my hand, pushing through the peacekeepers. All heads turn to me. The guards stop pushing Annie, and she looks to me, her thrashing easing a bit.
The words leave my lips before I can even process them myself. 
With a dry mouth, clammy hands and a wildly beating heart, I shout, "I volunteer!"
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anakinstwinklebunny · 9 months
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Why this man is so attractive while being angry I'm literally going to fling myself into the sun ughhhh
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832 notes · View notes
geekynerfherder · 9 months
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'Farewell To Autumn' by Annie Stegg-Gerard.
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mrs-kmikaelson · 1 month
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Our Song and Dance⁶
Pairing: Finnick Odair x reader, Katniss Everdeen x platonic!reader Summary: You'd grown used to dancing the same dance over and over again, the victor's dance, but then you start dancing with Finnick Odair and you feel things you never thought you'd feel. So you let yourself enjoy the dance, even though you knew that every song inevitably came to an end. Warnings: mentions of torture, mentions of forced prostitution, exploitation of minors, suicidal thoughts, war, violence, murder, mind games, religious references, very complicated relationships, complex mental health issues, death, and grief Words: 12.8K
Masterlist | Series Soundtrack
a/n: ladies and gents, this is the moment you've waited for! (greatest showman reference, not excluding my enbys y'all). here it is! this is the end! just for clarity, anything in present tense means r is thinking (as always), and there's an additional a/n at the bottom. love u guys!!
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When you were younger, you dreamed of being a storyteller. This wasn't your first time dwelling on that fact, but now you wondered if it'd be the last.
There was a saying your mother used to say, before your father died and she went mad. You reap what you sow. It was ironic how backwards it was in your life. First you were reaped, which then subsequently sowed the domino pieces to your fake life, all falling down to lead up to this moment.
Yes, backwards it was.
You'd barely gotten a wink of sleep before faraway booms were waking you up. You didn't flinch this time; you could tell they weren't close, but Finnick's hand on your shoulder still tightened, like he was reminding you that he was there if you so needed it.
"Mortal shells," Gale informed you, looking up at the basement's ceiling. "It's not ours. Peacekeepers must be shellin' the rebels outside of the city."
It surely didn't sound like it. Cressida must've came to the same conclusion because she soon piped up, "That's not outside the city."
Inside, then. They were inside the city. 
That meant it was show time.
You separated yourself from Finnick without a word, going to prepare. In his mind, you must've just been so focused that you couldn't speak to him. In yours, it was that you were so unfocused that you wouldn't.
For the last eight years of your life, you'd been spinning stories with Finnick like there'd be no tomorrow, and now that was about to become a reality. That's why you couldn't speak to him. This was the last chapter, the last dance before the song came to a stop.
So you got ready, screwing arrowheads onto their shafts and strapping yourself with guns, moving slowly as if you were frozen in time with knowledge no one else had. 
This was the end of your story.
This was the end of the song.
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Music beat loudly in your ears, but it was quieted by the sound of beeping. Your eyes were drawn to a black box on the table in the corner, similar to the one you once watched Finnick from, now projecting a mandatory viewing. There was no fanfare this time, as if Snow was now realizing that there was no need to sugarcoat what was happening.
The rebels had already invaded the Capitol. If its citizen's didn't know the severity of the situation before, they sure did now.
Finnick lightly snorted behind you as Snow's face came onscreen, making you resist the urge to swat him and laugh. You wouldn't have been laughing at Snow, though—you were much too angry for that—just at the boy who still found the courage to laugh in such terrible times.
You'd miss that.
Snow began speaking right away. "To all Capitol citizens more than a half mile outside the city circle, I am announcing a mandatory evacuation." Your brows knitted together. What? A quick glance at Katniss told you that she was just as confused. "Come to my home," he beckoned. "I am promising you shelter and sanctuary. All refugees... come to my home. There, you will be provided with food, medicine, safety for your children... and you will have my solemn oath to protect you until my dying breath."
Cressida made a sarcastic quip that you didn't hear, like your head was underwater.
This doesn't feel right.
"Our enemy is not like us," he continued. "They do not share our values. They have never known our comfort and our sophistication."
Somewhere in all the muffledness you heard Finnick mutter, "No shit," but it barely registered. Your eyes were trained on the image as if it'd unravel and reveal something to you. You didn't know what there even was to reveal—everything was laid out in the open now.
So then why do I feel like something's hiding in plain sight?
"And they despise us for it. Make no mistake." Snow's voice was filled with certainty and a spite so sharp it could cut through flesh.  "They are not coming to liberate us. They are coming to destroy our way of life. They are coming... to bury us." He put emphasis on his last words before the stream ended, his image cutting out with a flash.
What an interesting choice of words he used. Bury them. The people in 4 had been buried underneath rubble, so much so that you couldn't bury your own mother.
Katniss cut off your thoughts. "Is he still in the mansion?" You turned toward her, seeing her eyes already on you. 
You had to clear your throat before you replied, "Yeah." You'd been in that God-awful room enough times to recognize it, even in your dreams.
She nodded absentmindedly. "Okay, where's that?"
Pointing to a map she pulled out, Cressida answered, "About five blocks away. We're right here, off the avenues." She pointed to another far-off spot. "Mansion's here."
You crossed your arms. That was a long distance. "What about the pods?" you questioned.
Cressida motioned to another part of the map. "Well, they'll probably deactivate the pods around here for the residents' safety." 
"That could work." Katniss looked up at you, that same fire shining in her eyes that reminded you of her nickname. "We could get close enough."
That was the problem. You could get close enough—you could really do it.
But that felt too easy.
You didn't voice your doubts; Gale did. "Every Peacekeeper's gonna be waiting."
"Next to our faces on every billboard," Cressida cut in.
You shrugged. "Well, Snow's offering shelter to all the refugees." You could feel everyone's eyes dart to you, but you kept yours on Katniss. She understood your message right away. This was your shot. 
You had to take it.
The two of you were in agreement and that's all that mattered. Nobody was going to stop you.
Katniss got up, and then after grabbing the last of your weapons, you were heading upstairs.
One shot. You had one shot.
The extravagancy of Tigris' shop was lost upon you as you threw on a large coat, listening to Cressida's directions. There would be thousands of refugees; all you had to do was join them and keep your head low.
She wished you good luck, and then you found yourself hugging this girl you'd barely known for more than a few days. But she gave you trust when you needed it, and you wouldn't ever forget it.
You knew you weren't gonna see any of these people ever again, so you might as well say goodbye.
You were halfway through thanking Tigris when Peeta's voice suddenly sounded. "Katniss, let me come with you, okay?" You saw her face fall out of the corner of your eye.
He wasn't asking; he was begging.
"I can be a good distraction. They- they know my face—"
She firmly cut him off. "No, I'm not losing you again."
"What if Peacekeepers are searching the houses?" Gale spoke up. Whether it was out of spite or concern, you couldn't tell. "And if he's captured—"
He barely got to finish his sentence before Peeta was hurriedly interrupting him. "Then give me a nightlock pill, okay? I'm not going back."
You inhaled a sharp breath. Unconsciously, your hand went to the side pocket you'd tucked your pill in. Peeta's words had reignited a fear in you that you thought you'd expelled, bringing back memories you didn't want to have at that specific moment.
Please- please, I don't want to play anymore.
You didn't know you had closed your eyes until you reopened them to Gale handing Peeta his nightlock pill. Katniss went to unlock his cuffs, and that's when you looked away, getting the feeling you were intruding on something private.
Instead your eyes went to the very person you were avoiding. You met Finnick's blue eyes easily. Pretty blue eyes the colour of the ocean, your favourite colour.
Your favourite person.
A smile crept onto your face without your knowing. This was exactly why you were supposed to be avoiding him, but as you watched your best friend with the boy she loved, disregarding everything just to say goodbye, you couldn't help but want to do the same. You knew you already said goodbye to him, but you were already running out of time; why waste what little of it you had left?
One last time, you told yourself, just one last time to drown in his ocean.
You made your way over to him across the room, and before you could even get a word out, he said, "I want to come with you, too." You opened your mouth to protest— "But I'm not gonna ask you to."
You furrowed your brows. "Wha—"
Finnick lazily draped an arm over your shoulder, yet at the same time there was nothing lazy about the action at all. That, coupled with him brushing strands of hair out of your face, made you go silent. He was quiet, too, just staring at you.
The way he was looking at you reminded you of the way he examined his surroundings in the Quell, trying to remember where everything was.
It was like he was trying to commit your face to memory.
After a moment, he explained, "I know you won't let me." Of course, you wouldn't.
You weren't gonna let him watch you die.
You sighed, "I'm sorry—" 
With his voice as soft as silk, he chided, "Don't be sorry." His lips quirked upward while he caressed your hair. "Just come back to me in one piece so we can have that talk?"
You tried your best to reciprocate his smile. "I will." Liar.
Terrified that he'd see through your façade, you pulled him in, wounding your arms around him tightly. He held you just as tight. Only when your face was no longer in his view did you screw your eyes shut, willing yourself not to cry.
You'd stay like this forever if you could.
But you couldn't.
Behind you, someone cleared their throat, which meant your time was up. You had to go now.
Slowly, you unwrapped your arms from Finnick's body, wanting to hold onto him for as long you could. By the time you fully let go, you felt like something was missing. And there was.
Finnick Odair would always hold your heart in his hands.
You flashed him one last smile before you turned around. You wouldn't say you loved him before you left, and perhaps you'd regret that, but if you heard him say it back, you didn't know if you'd have the willpower to leave.
Déjà vu crashed into you like a tidal wave. You lived this moment before, saying goodbye then turning your back and walking away.
I'll see you at midnight?
Yeah, I'll see you at midnight.
You didn't see him at midnight. But you came back. It wasn't the same you that came back, but you did, eventually.
You came back before.
This time, you wouldn't.
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You and Katniss set off, finding the crowd immediately. It was a sea of people, impossible to miss. You joined them easily; if you were tentative, you'd get caught, so you had to march with them like you belonged.
There were dozens of Peacekeepers lining the sides of the path. When you glanced up, you found even more on the balconies of buildings, which quickly made you duck your head back down.
If you so much as removed your hood, they could identify you. And you refused to die before Snow did first.
The two of you were silent as you moved forward. There was that feeling in your chest again, the feeling that you were supposed to be saying something, but if anybody recognized your voice, you'd both be as good as dead. Katniss must've felt that pressure, too, but she didn't speak up about it, either.
On a whim, you glanced up ahead of you. You immediately regretted it when a child's eyes locked on yours.
Shit.
She was clutching onto a woman's shoulder—her mother's, you assumed. You prayed that she was too young to recognize you or too tired to make the connection, but then her head lifted up and you knew it didn't matter. 
She recognized you.
You glanced away from the kid before looking back. Her gaze didn't move but neither did her mouth.
She recognized you, but she wasn't going to say anything.
You were about to breathe a sigh of relief before Katniss tapped your arm, motioning ahead. Your eyes travelled to where she was gesturing, and you could've sworn your heart stopped.
Peacekeepers. 
They were checking people. You wouldn't get past them and you both knew it, so you swiftly turned around without another word. Except they were behind you, too, sweeping through the crowd.
Fuck.
You turned forward again, your heart and your mind racing in tandem to find a way out of this. You don't know what you could've possibly come up with.
You don't even think you were breathing.
Your fingers were inching their way to the gun on your hip just as a hand went to your shoulder. But before either of you could do anything, a loud boom sounded, sending you to the ground.
People were shouting everywhere all at once, mixing in with the music so you couldn't hear a thing. Your ears rang but you could still hear someone bellow, "It's the rebels!"
You glanced backward, and their yell was proven correct. A mob of rebels marched forward in a line, shooting at every guard in white they saw.
Another explosion reverberated through the battlefield, making you cup your ears. You couldn't hold back the pained cry that left you.
You looked forward, your eyes finding the same little girl from earlier, her yellow coat now tainted with dirt. She was kneeling above her mother's body, screaming. Tears sparked in your eyes.
That girl's mother was dead.
But you couldn't end up like her.
Quickly, you gathered your bearing, ushering Katniss up. "Come on!" She was stagnant, but as soon as you pulled her up, she was back from wherever she'd gone to. And then the two of you were running.
You jumped behind a barricade, only stopping momentarily. There was a Peacekeeper lying on the ground in front of you. Good, you thought. You could use his gun.
You untangled the rifle from his hands, kicking him down when he started moving. Then you were running forward again.
You ran like never before, stopping only to check that Katniss was still with you. Explosions went off on your way, shaking the ground. Some were too close, but you kept running.
Whether it was your sheer will or the adrenaline pumping through your body, you couldn't stop, not when you were so close. The gate was in your view now. You pushed through the crowd, not caring if your hood fell off in the process. There was too much chaos for anyone to notice.
The people were restless, a robotic voice trying and failing to pacify them. You were so busy climbing up a tank, trying to get a better a look at the palace, that you barely caught it. The gates will open momentarily, it was saying. The children will be received first. Stay calm. Bring your children forward.
That... that didn't sound right.
No, it did. It did sound right. It was right to bring the children forward first.
And that's exactly why it sounded wrong.
President Snow had never cared about children—why would he start now? It was puzzling; it didn't make any sense. But you couldn't make sense of it. You're forgetting why you're here, Y/N.
You shook your head, trying to bring yourself back to your objectives and not watch as the Peacekeepers lifted children from their parents' arms, but then something else caught your attention.
Whirring.
Your eyes shot to the sky where there was a lone hovercraft flying, Panem's emblem painted onto the wings. Not one of yours.
The hovercraft flew by. You don't know what you could've possibly expected, but you certainly didn't expect for it to drop parachutes in its wake.
"Gifts from the Capitol!" someone cheered.
The pit in your stomach returned, no matter how hard you'd just tried to get rid of it. The parachutes fell like they were in slow motion. You couldn't tell if they were truly moving so slowly or if was just you.
The world seemed to stop. The dance seemed to stop. And then everything clicked.
But you were too late.
Your eyes widened. "No—"
BOOM.
You were thrown through the air, landing somewhere hard. The wind was knocked out of you. At first, you were choking on nothing until you finally gained the ability to wheeze. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes.
This time, you couldn't hear anything. No screams, no more shooting. No more music at all.
The music came to a screeching halt. The record didn't skip. It just stopped.
It occurred to you then that the fucking needle must've just scratched the vinyl, because the music restarted. But it wasn't the same.
You shot upward, coughing your lungs away and waving dust out of your face. You stumbled as you got up—that was a misstep. 
Dancing, dancing, dancing, dancing— 
Katniss. 
Where's Katniss?
Frantically, your eyes darted everywhere. She wasn't beside you. She wasn't in front of you. You spun around, dancing, and she wasn't behind you either.
You wanted to scream her name, but you didn't. She's fine, you reassured yourself. She had to be fine—she was right next to you when the bombs went off. You just had to find her.
Your eyes scanned the scene in front of you, just now really looking at it. Bodies littered the ground, medics and Peacekeepers alike rushing to the wounded. So many wounded. You'd never seen so many bodies in one place.
You looked for a woman in a blue cloak among them. You didn't find her. But you did find someone else that was oddly familiar.
A blonde. A young blonde in a medic's uniform.
You know, I used to be jealous of you.
Jealous of me?
No, that couldn't be—
You have a family that really loves you, that beautiful sister of yours.
You blinked as if it'd make her disappear, but when you opened your eyes, she was still there, not a figment of your imagination at all. She was there.
And then she wasn't.
You had just opened your mouth, but the words died in your throat. "Prim—"
It all happened faster than you could register it.
You saw the flames first. Light travelled faster than sound. Then you heard it—the explosion. And then you felt it. You felt it more forcefully than any of the other ones, shockwaves rippling through your body.
And then you felt nothing.
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The last time you awoke in the Capitol, you could feel that something bad was about to happen to you. Dread flowed through your veins like it was blood, infecting every part of you. It was as if a dark cloud hung over your head, a voice in your ear telling you to keep your eyes closed for as long as you could, to enjoy the rest while you still had it.
This time, your eyes fluttered open on their own accord. Your eyelids weren't as heavy. Your body wasn't as sore. But there was a still a weight on your chest.
The dread was still there.
Then the memories flooded back to you.
Bombs. And Primrose Everdeen.
No. You had to have been hallucinating.
With that thought, you blinked, suddenly becoming aware of your surroundings. The lights were fluorescent, but they weren't blinding like typical hospital lights—and there was an incessant beeping noise, but it wasn't very loud. You gathered that this wasn't a hospital room; it was more like a triage centre.
There was a shuffling to your right that you directed your attention to. It was a blonde woman tending to a sleeping brunette's wounds. You blinked again, and then you realized that brunette was Katniss. 
You let out a sigh of relief. She was okay.
Your eyes then immediately flickered to the other presence in the room. Haymitch stood between yours and Katniss' beds. He was already looking at you.
You didn't greet him; the two of you were past that. "Is it—"
"Yes." He seemed to understand without any explanation. Your eyes fell shut for a moment then, taking it in, and he let you.
The war was over.
You won.
But this didn't feel like winning.
When you opened your eyes, Haymitch seemed to already know what you were thinking. That's what you liked about him: no nonsense, no bullshit, no trying to sugarcoat something that was so clearly sour. Just straight to the point.
"It was over after the Capitol dropped those bombs to defend the Palace. Rebels took it right after." He paused, eyes glossing over with a look you knew all too well. "Everybody felt it—Peacekeepers, Palace guards... kids. It was, uh... it was over after that."
You could remember that. The children reaching up in the air, trying to grab what they thought were gifts from their beloved Capitol. Bombs exploded in their faces. You wondered if they were strong enough to kill on impact.
You hoped they were.
Children crying for their parents. Parents crying for their children. All of the sounds melded together eventually.
But you won. You won, didn't you?
Didn't you?
He changed topics. You think it was too hard for him to talk about, too, and that was almost absurd. You never thought you'd see the day that Haymitch Abernathy shied away from anything, yet here you were.
"Your injuries are minor," he told you. "Damage is superficial. You got off unscathed." Did you? "They wanted to take you right to the Palace, but I figured you'd want to change your own clothes." 
He said it casually, but the implication was there. That made you crack a smile, or at least the best smile you could give. "Thanks, H."
He nodded in acknowledgement but otherwise didn't mention it. The victors didn't talk about those sorts of things, not up until recently. You knew what happened to him, to his family, his girlfriend. And he always knew what was happening to you, but it was never spoken out loud. The things that happened in the dark were never meant to be brought under the spotlight.
So Finnick brought out the sun. And now, every secret, every body, and every monster under the bed was out in the open for everyone to see. 
You just never thought the sun would burn so much.
Your gaze travelled over to the blonde woman, still at work, applying some type of ointment to Katniss' neck. She hadn't said a word.
You suddenly realized that you were staring at Carine Everdeen.
You looked back to Haymitch, then Carine, then back at him, a question lying silently in your eyes. You opened your mouth, but you didn't need to. Haymitch just nodded, a solemn countenance overtaking his face. At his confirmation, you felt yourself physically deflate.
You weren't hallucinating.
Prim was dead.
You sat there with that information for a bit, unknowing of what to do with it. Katniss' innocent little sister was dead, caught in the crossfire of a fight she should've never had to live through. 
Katniss only ever volunteered to spare her sister.
And now she was dead, anyway.
She deserved to be acknowledged. You didn't know what to say, but she deserved the effort. Prim deserved the world.
Your voice was just barely above a whisper, hoarse from either the lack of use or remorse, perhaps both. "Mrs. Everdeen?"
Her hands paused mid-movement. She slowly turned around to look at you. Only, she wasn't looking at you. She wasn't really there.
You could count the number of times you spoke to Carine on one hand. It'd only ever been in passing, a hello here and there. She wasn't close with Katniss, therefore, she wasn't close with you. But right now, it didn't matter how close you were at all.
Somehow, everyone felt so faraway.
You swallowed. "I'm so sorry."
She was silent, but you could see every word she wasn't speaking in her eyes. Sadness, regret, anger, devastation. Grief. For a second, you could see her come back, but she was gone just as quickly as she reappeared.
"Me, too."
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The ride from the triage centre to the Palace was all a blur. Somewhere in between everything, you got dressed into your own clothes, not the ones from 13. You briefly wondered how they got ahold of them.
Katniss was still there, sleeping. Maybe she woke up by now. You just needed to get out of there. Haymitch had told you that Finnick was en route, and you asked him to help you get out before he got there, to just tell him that they'd taken you to the Palace right away like they originally planned.
You didn't know why you did that, but you just knew you couldn't talk to him. Not yet.
They gave you a random room then left you there after you asked them to. You were sure they weren't supposed to do that, probably on Coin's orders, but the glare you sent them must've been real bad because they went scurrying out like mice.
You exhaled when they closed the door, finally alone. For a second, you felt like you could breathe again. And then you caught a glimpse of the bed and it was back to feeling like you were suffocating.
Crimson red sheets, gold accents. A ginormous velvet head board. A huge comforter that would likely warm you up— God, you were still so cold.
But you'd lied on a bed just like that before. And you were just as cold then, even with the warm body lying right next to you.
You cupped your mouth, knees buckling, but your other trembling hand grasped onto the chair right in front of you. You held onto that crest for dear life, simultaneously holding back a sob.
Calm down, Y/N. Just stop.
You were trying— you were fucking trying. But then your eyes zeroed in on items on the table in front of you. They blended in with the rest of the extravagant decor of this room, but once you saw them, it was all you could see.
A crown.
And a vase of fucking roses. 
You screamed, letting go of the chair and throwing the vase the ground, not caring if any of the shards hit you. The crown was next. Then you were tumbling down to the ground, too.
The dam in your eyes broke, tears flooding down your cheeks with no sign of stopping. Sobs wracked through your body.
It hurt. It fucking hurt. Not your legs. Not your back. Not your ears. Your heart. You clawed at your chest relentlessly, pleading for the pain to go away.
"Please," you cried. "Please make it stop." You don't know who you were crying to. You hadn't prayed in ages— you didn't even know what you believed in anymore. All you knew was that you were on your knees, begging for any God to listen.
But nobody answered.
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You might've sat on the floor of that room for hours—you truly didn't know. You cried until you didn't have tears anymore, until you were numb. You just sat there after that, staring at the ground, at the crown you threw.
So much power that a single object had over you. It was a mask. A contract. A lie. A trick painted in gold. Your legacy.
It was your fucking poison.
Heavy is the head that wears the crown, they said. 
They didn't know the half of it.
After a while, you got sick of staring at it, forcing yourself up and immediately turning to the door. You were exhausted, sure, and you'd sleep eventually, but not on that bed.
You turned the knob on the door and shut it behind you, knowing it was unlikely that you'd return to it. You made your way through the Palace like it was second nature; you knew this place well. Dozens of parties and faux appearances would do that to you.
The Palace only held poor memories for you. Here, your life as a marionette began, and you hadn't known anything different since. What person would want to stay in a place like that, a place that symbolized the moment their life changed forever?
Getting reaped might've been when your life went downhill, but your life became Snow's the second you stepped into his home.
You found yourself pulling the French doors to the backyard open, wanting to feel a cold that didn't come from your own body. The ground was covered in a blanket of white that crunched beneath your feet. Only a thin jacket protected you from the air sharply licking your skin, but you welcomed the feeling.
You didn't know what you were doing, but when you saw two men guarding the Rose Garden, you couldn't help but be pulled to it, like you still had strings attached to your limbs.
You were just reaching the doors when one of the guards stepped in front of them, his hand out. "Sorry, Princess. Can't let you pass."
His statement caused you to intake a deep breath, whether it was from the actual statement itself or the name that so happened to spill from his lips. You had half a mind to argue with him—you weren't sure if you were in your right mind at all—until a familiar voice ordered, "Let her in." 
You turned your head, seeing Paylor stood on the steps you had just walked down.
If you were in a better state of mind, you might've smiled.
"On my authority. She has a right to anything behind that door."
You didn't smile, but you settled for a nod. You weren't sure if your eyes translated correctly, but when she nodded back, you knew she received your message.
You weren't just thanking her for this.
Without another thought, you turned back to the garden. The guards opened the glass doors for you, letting you in. Immediately, your nostrils were flooded with the rich scent of earth. Green plants and bushes were everywhere, the most vibrant colour of green you'd ever seen in your life. You wondered if light hit differently in the Capitol, allowing people to see colours you didn't have back home.
Then you thought back to how people here had ignored the black tendrils engulfing the city for so long, and you realized that: yes, light must have hit differently here. It was impossible to ignore the darkness otherwise.
White roses were everywhere. It made you sick, but you stopped the bile from rising. There were so many. You used to wonder why Snow seemed so obsessed with flowers, why he wore them on his person at all times, but you supposed it was no secret anymore.
Help cover the scent of blood from sores in his mouth that will never heal.
Your eyes were trained on one of the roses when a voice cut through your daze. "That's a nice one."
Instantly, every part of your body stiffened, but you ignored every instinct screaming at you to spin around. You refused to give him the satisfaction.
"The colours are lovely, of course. But nothing says perfection like white." 
Your jaw locked, and you made good effort to relax it before you turned around. Seeing him there with that smile on his face nearly made you crumble, but you stood tall, echoing, "Ironic, isn't it? How a man so tainted tries to fool the world with an illusion of purity."
His grin only widened. "I was hoping you would find your way here. I knew you would." You wanted to slap the grin off his face and strangle him until the smugness in his voice disappeared. Your hands clenched by your sides, and judging by the way his eyes twinkled, he saw. 
He sat down on a ledge, musing, "You always were my greatest achievement."
The words were being spat from your mouth before you could stop them. "I am not your anything."
He tilted his head just ever so slightly, staring at you with pools of condescension as if telling you that wasn't true. It wasn't true, and he knew you knew it.
"I have a feeling your visit will be brief, so let's not waste our time, shall we?" You hated the way the word our rolled off his tongue, but you didn't show it on your face.
Snow cut himself off with a cough, bringing his handkerchief to his mouth. When he lowered it, it was spotted in blood. "Please offer my condolences to Ms. Everdeen about her sister." He tutted to himself. "So wasteful. So unnecessary."
You scoffed a humourless chuckle. "Really?"
"Why, yes, dear," he replied, shaking his head for effect. "Anyone could see the game was over by that point. In fact, I was just about to issue an official surrender when they released those parachutes."
A scowl crawled onto your face. "What the hell are you on about? You released those parachutes."
"You really think I gave the order?" He leaned forward in his seat, his eyes peering into your soul. You didn't once look away. "We both know I'm not above killing children. But I am not wasteful." He stressed the word like it was disgraceful to him. "I take life for... specific reasons. And there was no reason for me to destroy a pen full of Capitol children— none at all—"
He was cut off by another cough. It did little to disturb you; you were already disgusted from the moment he began talking. Every word he spoke was careful and calculated. Listening to him explain his rhyme and reason wasn't something you were interested in. What reason could he possibly have for what he'd done?
He took the lives of everyone he met. Every person you cared about had fallen victim to his schemes. Katniss. Johanna. Peeta. Finnick. He took your mother's life— he took your life.
There was nothing he could say to ever make you understand his perspective.
Once he stopped coughing and looked back up at you, the smile was right back on his face like it never left. "I must concede, it was a masterful move on Coin's part," he admitted. The second he uttered Coin's name, you tensed even more than you thought possible. Humour laced through his voice. "The idea that I was bombing our own helpless children to hold back the rebels... it turned the last of my guards against me. There was no resistance left inside the Capitol or the mansion." He leaned forward again, like he was letting you in on a little secret. "Do you know it aired live? There's a... particular savvy in that, isn't there?"
You were afraid that, if he kept talking, you wouldn't be able to hold back the bile in your throat. He's crazy. This was Coriolanus Snow, a man who rose to the top by knocking down anything or anyone that stood in his way. You couldn't trust a word that came out of his mouth.
Yet you were still compelled to listen to him.
The moment you met Coin flashed behind your eyes as you blinked. You felt the sensation of shaking her hand all over again. Every encounter you ever had with her ran through your mind.
You thought back to when you were in 2 and her and Commander Lyme disagreed.
You've been underground a long time, Madam Coin. This isn't like the rest of Panem. Support for the Capitol runs deep here.
Then there is no sacrifice too great.
Snow pulled you out of your trance. "I'm sure she wasn't gunning for that Everdeen girl, but... these things happen in war." It was as if he could see the gears in your head spinning out of control.
Spinning, spinning, spinning— 
"My failure was in being so slow to grasp Coin's plan," he proclaimed. "She let the Capitol and the districts destroy one another, then she stepped in to take power with 13's arsenal. Oh, make no mistake." He chuckled. "She intends to take my place now."
Your skin was crawling. You felt the urge to rip it off.
Something about his smile became more harrowing, like he was placing down his final piece on the chess board. "But I've been watching you. And you watching me." You dug your nails into your skin. "I'm afraid we've both been played for fools."
No. 
No.
"You're lying." You didn't even sound convincing to yourself.
He tutted once more. "Y/N, my dear, I may have done many things, but have I ever once lied to you?"
You were gonna be sick. You turned around before he could see the tears gathering in your eyes.
This was over.
You went for the door, but just as you were about to knock on it and alert the guards, Snow stopped you in your tracks. "I see so much of myself in you, Y/N."
You felt your lips tremble, but not a single tear raced down your cheek. You didn't allow it.
Slowly, you turned around, your voice quiet but firm. "I am nothing like you," you avowed—to him and to yourself.
You didn't spend another second wasting your time looking at him, going to knock on the door as he broke into a fit of coughing. That coughing transformed into laughter.
Snow laughed maniacally as you left the garden and didn't stop. You could hear him laughing as you powered through his backyard, echoing in the empty space.
And even when you were back inside the Palace, his laugh still followed you.
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You found a random hallway in the mansion, the first one that didn't remind you of anything, and you immediately went to the wall closest to you, leaning your forehead against it and inhaling a shaky breath.
Get your shit together, you scolded.
You already broke down once today. You didn't deserve another breakdown— no, you couldn't afford another breakdown. You needed time to think.
Did you believe Snow? Was this just his last way of fucking with you before he died, trying to get the last laugh by absolving himself of the blame? He had to know that he'd reached the end of the line, that he'd be dying at your hands.
He lost, and you won. The war was over—all that was left to do was kill him.
Katniss' voice suddenly rang through your head. This isn't right, she'd said, mourning the possibility of innocent life being lost before it even happened. You remembered your response to that, too.
It's fire catching, Everdeen.
A shiver ran through your body. Was this what fire catching looked like? Children dying. Hundreds of people with their lives forever altered—hundreds of people injured or killed by those bombs going off. Fire caught onto them.
This didn't feel like a win. Mulling over Snow's accusations in your head, it all made sense. There were no victors in an arena. You deluded yourself into thinking this was anything other than a game while Coin was playing her winning card.
You remembered what it was like in the arena, surviving off of ruthlessness, uncaring of what'd happen to anyone else as long as it meant you got to win.
But this wasn't meant to be a game. 
I see so much of myself in you, Y/N.
You didn't want to be like that anymore. You didn't want to play anymore.
"Y/N?"
You turned around, being met with the Girl on Fire standing across from you on the other side of the hallway. That was the name Caesar gave her from her first Tribute Parade, but you no longer found it appropriate.
The Girl on Fire was the girl who volunteered in place of her sister.
The woman that stood in front of you now had her sister killed by the very thing that once defined her.
You made it a point to never call her that again.
Katniss Everdeen was her name. She was The Mockingjay. And somehow, she became your best friend. So then and there, as you stared at one another, you knew that you had to tell her what Snow said, regardless of what you believed.
Softly, you told her, "We have to talk."
Yet no matter how soft your voice was, you don't think anything could have ever softened the blow.
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Katniss took you to her room, and there, you told her everything. When you were done explaining, she looked so empty but so full of so many emotions at the same time. 
Do you believe it? she asked you.
I don't know, you responded. I don't know.
You sat there with her and gave her time to absorb it, not saying another word. The two of you sat there in silence until Gale came and fetched you, saying that Coin wanted to speak with you both.
You got up and left the room but closed the door on your way out. She wanted to talk to him—she needed to. 
You were there waiting for her when she was done, and you pretended you didn't watch Gale leave the room with tears in his eyes. 
Side by side, you walked to Snow's cabinet room with you leading the way. No one told you it'd be there, but you had a strong suspicion that that'd be Coin's choice. When you found two armed guards in front of the double doors, you were proven correct—and you didn't know why that unnverved you so much.
About 20 feet away from the doors, you held your arm out in front of Katniss, effectively stopping her. You had sat in silence with her for who knew how long, but now was one of those moments when you felt like you had to say something, and you were gonna take it before you got within earshot of those guards.
You stepped in front of her slightly so you could look at her, and for a moment, you lost your footing. It wasn't like you saw Katniss anything other than indifferent often, but this look struck you to the core. 
Perhaps it was the thin line of her lips. Maybe it was the emptiness in her eyes, no emotion in sight. Or maybe it was how you felt like you were staring into a mirror.
But she deserved so much better than being you.
Katniss Everdeen deserved the justice you never had.
You didn't know how to say all of this, nor did you know if she was in the headspace to listen, so you made sure she was looking at you when you spoke. "Do what you have to do," you whispered.
She stared at you for a few seconds, empty, but in all the darkness of her eyes you could see a faint light shine. Clarity.
She understood.
She gave you a small nod, and then you were moving out of the way, finishing your walk to the conference room. You might've been vague, but you knew your point was received. Whatever she wanted to do from this point forward, you'd stand by it.
The ball was in her court now.
The men in front of the doors gave you short nods of acknowledgement before stoically opening the doors. When they did, you weren't met only with Coin. This was a room full of victors.
And even though you suspected they hadn't been chatty before you entered, they were now radio silent.
Your eyes immediately locked with Finnick's, and you would've exhaled if you weren't under the microscope. He's okay. He's okay, and you knew that already, Y/N. You knew he was okay, but being told that wasn't the same as seeing him in person.
You didn't think you'd get to see those blue eyes again.
But you were.
Finnick flashed you a soft smile. It wasn't his classic Finnick smile, the one he'd throw at cameras and crowds. He was visibly exhausted, but he still found it in himself to smile at you.
It was the least you could do to smile back, even if it wasn't as dazzling as his.
"What's this?" the brunette beside you questioned, knocking you out of your trance. Her voice was cold and detached, but you noticed something now that wasn't there before. Deep underneath that ice was red, hot anger.
From Coin's response, you doubted she caught it. "The remaining victors." She gestured to the table. "Won't you join us?" Behind her, Johanna held out her arms, too, a mocking smile on her face that would've made you laugh if you weren't so tired.
You followed Katniss' lead, taking the last two seats at the table while also taking a cursory glance of the room. Beetee, Enobaria, Haymitch, Johanna, Finnick, Peeta, and Annie. You frowned. She was supposed to be on her honeymoon, not back in the Capitol—probably never back in the Capitol. But she glanced at you and you smiled, anyway.
"I have invited you all here for several reasons, but first, I have an announcement." Both Coin's words and her tone of made you look back at her, but then something else caught your attention.
Even under the glare of all the chandeliers in the room, you could still see the glint in her eye.
"I have taken the burden and the honour of declaring myself interim President of Panem." 
Oh, you could've laughed. Even though there wasn't a single thing funny about it.
You settled for narrowing your eyes; meanwhile, Haymitch scoffed. "Interim? Exactly how long is that interim?"
Coin's hands remained clasped on the table, and she didn't flinch. "We have no way of knowing for certain. But it's clear that the people are far too emotional right now to make a rational decision." Her voice was calm and collected, if not condescending. "We'll plan an election when the time is right."
You hummed, and even though she undoubtedly heard you, she ignored it.
"But I have called you here for a far more important vote." She finally look her hands off the table, leaning back. "A symbolic vote." 
Everyone in this room is a symbol in some way, you thought, but you held your tongue. Symbols didn't mean much to people who had been turned into nothing more than just that, but the thought must've escaped her.
"This afternoon, we will execute Snow. Hundreds of his accomplices also await their deaths. Capitol officials, Peacekeepers, torturers, Gamemakers. But the danger is, once we begin, the rebels will not stop calling for retribution." Dread crept into your stomach. Whatever she was going to propose, you wouldn't like it. "Thirst for blood is a difficult urge to satisfy. So... I offer an alternative plan. Majority of five may approve it— no one may abstain." She gave you a pointed glance. "The proposal is this. In lieu of these barbaric executions, we hold a symbolic Hunger Games."
Somehow, the room got quieter.
You fought to keep your face impassive—though, you were unknowing if you succeeded. You could only hope that the years of pretending paid off.
In lieu? What the hell did that mean? She wanted to spare a horde of evil people in exchange for the lives of innocents? That didn't make any sense.
But then you realized, powerful people. It'd be sparing powerful people. 
Johanna broke the silence with a laugh. It bounced off the decorated walls like rubber. "You wanna have another Hunger Games with— the Capitol's children?"
Peeta monotoned, "You're joking."
"Not in the slightest," Coin responded.
You glanced at Katniss. She was mute, just staring staring straight at Coin. They all might've thought she was in shock, grieving, but you knew the truth.
It was all falling into place for her.
Finnick let out a scoff. "Is this Plutarch's idea?"
If you didn't know any better, you would've thought the look on Coin's face was offense and not pride. "It was mine." There was another scoff in the room, probably from Haymitch that time. "It balances the need for revenge... with the least loss of human life."
The least loss of valuable of human life.
"You may cast your votes—"
"No," Peeta cut her off immediately, voting first. "No, obviously not. This is crazy."
"I think it's more than fair," Jo chimed in. "Snow's got a granddaugter. I say yes." You didn't judge her for that answer, even if you didn't agree with it. All of you had felt pain at the hands of the Capitol, but you couldn't possibly imagine condemning anyone else to the same fate.
Capitol children or not, they were still children. They weren't symbols; they were human. And you refused to join any line of thinking that said otherwise.
"So do I," Enobaria said, her red lips curving into a smile that made you remember when those lips were once coated in blood. "Let them have a taste of it."
"You guys, this way of thinking is what started these uprisings." Peeta's voice was incredulous.
Annie spoke up. "I vote no. With Peeta." Despite the decision in her tone, she cast a worried glance your way right after. Why haven't you said anything? her eyes read.
You looked away from them.
"No," Beetee voted. "We need to stop viewing each other as enemies." 
Finally, the voice you were waiting for sparked. "You have to be kidding me right now." Finnick had a baffled smile on his face, and you had a feeling he was going to start saying a few choice words.
And you didn't know why just yet, but you couldn't let him.
Before he could get his vote in, you blurted, "Yes." His head immediately snapped to yours, and you felt instant regret when his eyes met yours. In the swirls of all the blue, you could see betrayal.
The bile that you worked so hard to suppress earlier was back rising, but you wouldn't let it leave. He had to understand. You had to make him understand. 
You kept your eyes on his, no matter how sick it made you feel, pleading to him silently. His own words echoed through your head.
Please just trust me.
Trust you to do what?
I just need you to trust me, Y/N, please. Trust me.
You did. You trusted him, even when you didn't understand it at all, and now you were just begging him to return the favour.
You closed your for a brief second. Please just trust me, Finnick.
"Yes." Your eyes flew wide open to see him already looking at you. He maintained your stare before looking back to Coin. "You've got my yes, too."
He said yes. But really, he was saying so much more than that.
I trust you.
Coin nodded, disclosing, "It's down to Katniss and Haymitch." Majority of five. Only one of them had to say yes for her plan to take off, and you already knew which one of them it'd be.
Coin's eyes narrowed while Katniss remained expressionless, and in that moment, it was clear that The Hunger Games wasn't the one Coin was proposing. It was this, and President Coin was the Gamemaker and engineer behind it all. This was a game of cat and mouse.
Only Coin wasn't the cat.
After a beat of silence, Katniss finally spoke. "I get to kill Snow," she dictated.
A few pairs of eyes flitted to you, but you only focused on one of them. Coin glanced at you, and when you didn't object, she obliged, "Of course."
The room was back to silence, but your mind was anything but. What you heard were strings, brass, percussion, and a whole orchestra of instruments. A cacophony of noise and voices singing about a necklace of hope, only getting louder, and louder, and louder, and louder—
And then the beat dropped.
"Then I vote yes." That's five. For the first time since you entered the room, there was a crack in Katniss' voice. "For Prim."
That was nearly a warning, but if Coin caught the edge to her voice, she didn't say anything about it. You think she was so consumed by satisfaction that she wouldn't have been able to notice, anyway.
She turned her attention to Haymitch if not just to stay true to her words. No one may abstain. "Haymitch?"
Katniss and Haymitch shared a gaze for a few seconds, and then he looked to you, and to Finnick, before he was looking back to Coin. He didn't agree with this, but he still lied, "I'm with the, uh, Mockingjay."
Coin nodded, poorly stifling a smile. You wondered how anyone could smile at the news of a slaughter. "That carries the vote. Excellent. We'll announce The Games tonight after the execution."
And that was it. She got what she wanted. She won.
But as you glanced at Katniss to see the emptiness returning to her eyes, you had a feeling that wouldn't last very long.
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Stylists brought you to your room and did your hair for you, taking the locks and forming them into the braided updo that the people had grown to love. It was a crown—that's why they liked it so much. You would've preferred to leave your hair as it was, but you compromised that you'd do the hair if they didn't make you wear that ridiculous costume.
Cinna was an impeccable designer, but if you could go forever without wearing that suit, it'd still be too soon.
On your way into your room, the stylists ignored the broken glass on the floor, stepping over it and sending each other looks that they thought were discreet. They weren't.
When they saw the crown lying on the floor, too, they didn't dare ask you to wear it.
They left soon after little small talk, though you didn't think they blamed you. You looked like shit before they got to fixing you up, making you look like you'd actually slept. 
Your lips were no longer pale, coated in lipstick that didn't look like lipstick. You supposed the "natural" element was part of the Princess façade. They did something that made your cheeks look less hollow and more rosy, and they concealed the bags under your eyes pretty nicely.
Now, you looked like the Princess.
But she doesn't exist, a voice reminded you. She's not you.
You tilted your head at the woman in the mirror. She wasn't your reflection; she was a mirage. You didn't see yourself in any of it, but you didn't see yourself before they added all the glamour, either. 
Who are you, Y/N?
You swore to yourself you'd find out.
After slipping on your coat, you left the room, promising never to see it again. You were walking to the front when you saw a woman in five inch heels and silvers tassles exiting a room, a big blonde wig on her head with sharp silver ticks pinned into it that looked like they could stab her if she fell the wrong way.
She glanced to the side and saw you before you could greet her, beating you to it. "Oh, Y/N!" A big grin came to her face as she marched her way over to you, heels clicking against the floor adamantly. You think she would've skipped if she could've. 
Her arms wrapped themselves around your frame before you could even think about protesting. "How lovely it is to see you!" she exclaimed.
Your humour trumped your discomfort, making you laugh and reciprocate the hug. "Hi, Effie." When she pulled away, you were quick to cut to the chase, knowing she'd talk your ear off for ages if you gave her the chance. You nodded to the doors she walked out of. "Is Katniss in there?"
"Oh, yes— yes, dear!" She ushered you to the doors. "Go right ahead!"
"Thank you." Effie uttered something along the lines of 'no problem' before opening the doors and practically closing them within the same breath.
The smile that was on your face promptly dropped when you saw Katniss, looking no better than earlier, but you made quick work to bring it back. "Hey, Everdeen." You tried to make your voice light, but the heaviness in the air didn't dissipate.
She turned to you after just a second too long, almost like she hadn't heard you. A grimace crossed her face, but you could tell it was her attempt at a smile.
You stood there for a bit, keeping your hands at your sides. There wasn't much more to say—this was it. After this, you didn't know what'd happen. What would life even be like without being crushed by the Capitol's thumb? Would you go home? Did you even have one?
You didn't know how any of this would play out, but you did know that whatever ending Katniss wrote, it would likely end in the two of you separating. You'd both go home, and you'd no longer see the girl you got so used to. Realistically, you'd only been in close quarters for a month, but before that, you were isolated. Katniss helped you get acclimated with the revolution and gave you hope for a better world, and now you'd be going into it without her.
She wouldn't be at your side anymore, but you wanted her to know that you'd be standing behind her regardless.
In two strides, you were embracing her in your arms before you could think better of it. She froze, stiffening, and you were just about to let go and apologize when she engulfed you with the exact same fervour.
Your lips curved upward, and that time, it wasn't forced.
Eventually, you pulled back, resting your hands on her forearms. Her eyes didn't look so empty anymore. 
You wanted to thank her for everything she'd done for you without knowing it, for saving your life in more ways than one. You wanted to tell her you loved her.
You opened your mouth, but she cut you off before you could even try. "I know." She nodded, the slighest quirk of her lips visible. "I know." Pause. "Me, too."
She knew. You didn't need to say it, and neither did she. 
Things weren't okay—they probably wouldn't be for a while, but in that moment, you knew they'd get better one day, even if you wouldn't be around each other to see it.
You nodded back at her, and you squeezed her arms one last time, whispering, "Don't do anything I wouldn't do, Katniss."
And then you were letting her, walking away and leaving her alone while you still could. If you'd stayed any longer, you don't know if you would've left.
There was nothing left unsaid, and those were the best kinds of endings. But it was an ending, and that left you with bittersweet feelings you couldn't name.
Deep down, you knew you probably wouldn't see her again, and perhaps that was why you didn't meet the cars waiting for you at the front. If that was the last you saw her, you wanted that to be your last encounter.
And, so, your last memory of Katniss Everdeen was in that room.
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The word revolution, in the least words possible, meant change. That's what'd been happening for months now, if not years, and your reality was on the cusp of being turned on its head.
Yes, things changed.
And yet some things never did.
West of the city, there was a big lake; you found yourself there when you were supposed to be watching Snow's execution. A certain part of you was disappointed that you wouldn't get to watch him die; it was all you wanted ever since you got to 13, your sole motivation for staying alive.
But the other part of you was relieved. He would die, yes, but he wouldn't see you again before he did. He wouldn't get another chance to exercise his power over you ever again. So instead of being there, you were here, watching the water.
It reminded you of home. Back in your days at the Capitol, you didn't get do much sight-seeing of the city. You'd be brought in for a day or two, really only for the nights, and then you'd be sent back by morning. But once you met Finnick, he started walking around with you, and some nights you'd end up here.
You'd stare at the lake together in silence. Back then, the water was as close to freedom as you'd ever get. You supposed that was one of the things that did change.
You were free now.
What does that mean?
You pondered over that question for a while. For so long, you dreamed of even just tasting freedom; the thought was unattainable for so long, but now it was in your hands and you didn't know what you'd do.
The war was over.
But it wasn't.
The fight was over for you, but that didn't mean it was over for anyone else. Homes were destroyed. People were dead, and even more people were left here just to grieve. The nation was broken.
What did that make you if you just went home and left things like this? Maybe you'd done enough. Maybe you should just go home and retire the crown, finally get the rest you'd been longing for. But you didn't want that.
Who are you, Y/N?
Maybe you could be more than Panem's Princess.
"Y/N."
You were startled by the call of your name, spinning around. When you were met with eyes that matched the water behind you, you were calmed down.
"Finnick." A smile graced his face, eliciting one from you like it was contagious. "Hi."
"Hi." So many words to say, and yet that was the only one that either of you said. 
He walked up to you, turning his gaze to the lake, and just like old times, you did the same. Just like old times, the two of you stared out at the water without saying a thing. Just like old times, for a little while, you were just Y/N, and he was just Finnick.
And just like old times, all of that came to an end eventually.
"You weren't at the execution," he said at one point.
"No," you replied. "I wasn't."
"But you already know what happened." It was set up like a question, but it wasn't.
You turned to see him already looking at you. His eyes weren't angry; they were just curious. You quirked one side of your lips upward. "I had a feeling." Judging by his statement, your feeling was correct. Your lips quickly drooped downward. "Is—"
He nodded before you could finish. "Katniss is alright." A breath of relief left you. "Paylor's gonna pardon her eventually. She'll probably be taking over." That confirmed it.
Coin was dead. And Snow was, too.
When you got your bearings, you shrugged. "I'd vote for her." You might've said it just to bring some humour to the conversation, but it wasn't a joke. You had no doubts that Commander Paylor would lead the nation with courage.
Finnick chuckled, agreeing, but as soon as he stopped, the light disappeared, reminding you of the weight of the conversation you were about to have. You didn't think you'd even be alive to have it, but you were, and now there was no avoiding it. 
He must've seen the shift in your demeanour. "Y/N—"
"I love you," you breathed, cutting him off. If you were gonna have this talk, then that was the way you needed to start it. "I love you, and I have loved you for years. I'm so happy that I get to say it out loud now, because I never thought I'd get to, but Finnick, I—" the quivering of your lips made you stop. Realization dawned on his face, and that made tears come to your eyes. "I don't think love is enough."
He stepped closer to you, grabbing your hands. You let him. "Y/N—"
A tear raced down your cheek. "I don't know who I am when I'm not pretending. I lost myself trying to love you," you confessed, more tears falling down your face, but in the blur, you could see tears in his eyes, too. "I need to find myself again. I'm not— I'm not in the right headspace for a relationship right now, and it wouldn't be fair to you to jump right into one like everything's okay." Your voice shook. "It wouldn't be fair to either of us."
You were just about to pull your hands away when he squeezed them tighter. "No, I can— I can wait."
Your chest tightened as you held back a sob. He was so frantically trying to hold onto you when he shouldn't have been. You shook your head. "No, you don't understand. I need to stay here— I need time—"
"I can give you time!" he exclaimed, his voice cracking, simultaneously cracking your heart. "I can stay here— I can wait. Y/N, I will wait forever for you if you need me to."
This time, the sob did leave you, and there was nothing you could do stop it. "You shouldn't have to! You should just go be happy—"
"I can't be happy without you," he argued, stepping even closer to you like his every action was begging you to see his perspective. 
At his interruption, more sobs fell from your lips, and he promptly pulled you into his chest. Instinctually, your arms wrapped around his torso, and his hands went to your head, caressing your hair as you cried.
You cried, and cried, and cried, and he held you all through it, letting you soak his shirt with your tears. He held onto you tightly, and not just physically, either.
Finnick Odair would never let you go.
Never again.
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Somewhere in the haze of it all, you calmed down. You don't remember when you did or what happened after that, but eventually, your eyes were fluttering open to a white ceiling. Your hands grasped at your surroundings, feeling linen scrunch beneath your fingertips.
You glanced to the side where a big window was, light shining in from the moon. You furrowed your brows. How long were you out—and where were you?
Slowly, you stood up, soreness hitting your body immediately. You held back a hiss. Sleep must've given the bruises time to marinate; you decided to ignore it.
You walked through what was clearly a bedroom and opened the door. It opened into a hallway; noise was coming from the left, so that's where you went.
You didn't know what exactly you were expecting when you reached the end of the hall, but it certainly wasn't Finnick in front of a stove, frying something out of view. 
"Finnick?"
He turned around, eyes widening. "Oh, hey— let me just—" your brows raised as he turned back to the stove, picking up the pan and dropping its contents onto two plates on the counter. Eggs. You blinked, and memories flashed underneath your eyelids of scenes just like this one.
You didn't think you'd ever see him cooking again.
When you opened your eyes, he was back to facing you, a sheepish smile on his face that looked just a touch out of place. "Sorry, I was cooking us some food." He gestured behind him then added, "Since you can't."
You scoffed, almost like you hadn't just been bawling your eyes out, almost like you were back at home and everything was still fine. "Okay, first of all, screw you—" he let out a chuckle, "second of all, thank you. And third of all, where the hell are we right now?" Your eyes scanned the area; this wasn't a hotel room. It was an apartment. "Last I remember, we were at the lake."
"This used to be Cressida's old place," he explained. "Said we could crash here as long as we wanted. She doesn't really wanna be here either way."
"Oh." We. We could crash here, he said. You were brought back to reality. "Finnick—"
"Let's eat," he cut you off, an easygoing smile on his face. Easygoing, but not easy. You could see the nerves churning behind his expression, so with a sigh, you nodded, letting him lead you to the dinner table and pull out your chair.
You told yourself you did it for him. But really, you wanted to prolong this for a little while longer, too.
He put your plate and cutlery in front of you. You wondered how he managed to procure eggs that weren't expired, but you didn't ask him aloud. You just picked up your fork and started eating.
Whether it was your hunger or your desire to hold onto this, you stayed silent as you ate. You even caught Finnick eating slower than usual; he wanted to hold onto this, too. He was determined to do so.
You and Finnick did what you did best: you pretended. You pretended that you didn't just lose it and cry yourself to the point of passing out. You pretended that you didn't have to talk after this. You pretended that you were still living in the life you had before the Quell, eating dinner every night just like this. And in remembering those dinners, you pretended that you weren't pretending then, too.
But you couldn't pretend forever.
You finished your food first and waited for Finnick to finish his. He took his time, and you let him. You let him twiddle with his fork when he was done, and then you let him take your plates and wash them afterwards. And once they were on the drying rack and he had no more excuses, you stood up from your chair with reality ready to spill from your lips.
"Finnick—"
He took no more than second to get to you. "Please, just— hold on." 
You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. "We can't avoid this forever."
"I know." Despite the shake in his voice, there was undeniable resolution in it. "And if... if what you said is really what you want, I'll give it to you." Out of sheer surprise, your eyes opened. The face you loved so much looked pained, but he still gave you a smile. This time, you could tell it wasn't real; it was purely for your sake. "There are countless things I need to apologize to you for, and I'd spend the rest of my life making it all up to you if you let me, but I'd do anything for you. So if what you want is for me to walk out that door right now, I'll do it." He swallowed, like he was scared out of his mind. "I just want to ask you one thing first."
The rational side of your mind screamed at you not to entertain it, to say no and get him to leave while you could both still bear it. He was willing to give you an out—that's what you wanted.
Was that what you wanted?
No, what you wanted was to feel better, and sometimes, Finnick did that, but other times, he did the exact opposite. Most times, the rational you corrected. Most times, he made you feel worse. But the happiness he gave you in those few times overrode everything else.
The other version of you, the one that remembered the good just as equally as the bad, nodded and gave him the greenlight.
He enveloped your hands in his, and the warmth made you realize just how cold you were. "Dance with me," he pleaded. "Dance with me and then decide."
No. Don't do it—
Transfixed by the way he was staring at you, you found yourself agreeing and ignoring your inner voice. "One dance," you told him.
The smile on his face became a grin. Real. This time, it was real. "That's all I'll ask," he promised. You took his word for it.
One last dance. 
He led you to the open area between the kitchen and the living room, keeping your hands in his hold and pulling you closer. You rested your head on his, listening to his heart rattle against his ribcage. God, you missed that sound. 
You missed this.
Finnick swayed you slowly to the music, nothing external or tangible, but the music you were dancing to was more real than any song you'd ever heard.
You realized now that the rational you was right. Finnick set his trap, and you lied in it. Because now that you remembered what this felt like, how could you willingly give it up? How could you ever leave?
The song might've been filled with heightening moments, and there might've been times when you just wanted to throw the damn record player into the wall, but it was your song. 
And this was your dance.
Minutes passed before you pulled away. Finnick's hands immediately tightened on yours, and you squeezed them right back. You were pulling away, but the song wasn't over.
It wouldn't be over for a long time.
You warned him, "It's gonna be a lot of work, Finnick."
"I'm okay with that."
"We had a life back home— you had a life. I wouldn't be blaming you if you wanted to go back to it." 
He was shaking his head before you were even done speaking, eyes earnestly poring into yours. "I'll build any life so long as it's with you."
You searched his eyes for any sign of doubt or lying but found none. When you were sure that you believed what he was saying, that he believed what he was saying, you released the smile you were holding back.
"Okay."
His eyes widened. "Okay?"
An involuntary giggle left you. "Yeah. Okay—" without warning, he picked you up and was twirling you around, making you squeal. "Finnick!"
Your laughs resounded throughout the apartment, and when he put you down, it was just to engulf you in his arms again. You wanted to kiss him, and he wanted to kiss you, but you'd have to work your way back up to that.
And eventually, you would.
No, your song wasn't over.
It was just restarting.
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In district 12, Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark stood inside their home. They started to live together after some time had passed, and while they weren't a couple at that moment, they were still together. That was more than enough for the both of them.
Katniss chopped up vegetables for the dinner they'd be having later with Haymitch while Peeta read her a letter, addressed to them both. They didn't get mail often, not in 12, so they didn't know entirely what was happening with everyone else, but this letter informed them of all that they'd missed.
You'll be happy to hear that Katniss' mother has been training new medical units in the Capitol. Thanks to her, we'll be able to heal many more people at a much faster rate.
Gale has been promoted to a captain in district 2 to help keep order and security. He's doing well there.
Johanna has gone back to district 7 where she is taking the healing process one day at a time. She'll take as much time as she needs.
Annie and Julian are back in 4, along with Mags. They spend every day loving their son the way we all should've been loved, and it's a beautiful sight to see.
I am in the Capitol. I run a centre for children all over Panem who have lost their parents. One of the children has been staying with me personally for a while; she reminds me of you, Katniss. I'm thinking of adopting her.
Finnick has been here with me. We're happy together. One day, not any time soon, but some day, I'm gonna marry him, and the two of you better be there for the wedding.
We've all suffered so much. But we owe it to the memories of everyone we've lost to do our best with these lives. 
I hope you're both finding some peace.
As Peeta read the last lines, Katniss smiled for the first time in a long time.
Sincerely,
Y/N
Taglist: @avoxrising @mxacegrey @littleshadow17 @lovelyteenagebeard @nasyanastya @catastrxblues @zodiyack @zulpix-blog @mushroomelephant @muggies @lantsovheiress @hobiebrowns-wife @notplutos @faeriepigeons @hnslchw @unholyhuntress @aclmagic @gloryekaterina @ayme301 @lem0ns77 @kisskittenn @onlyangel-444 @moonagedaydream505 @spderm4nnnn @satellitespeirs @glitzcute @iammirrorball @corpsebasil @forever-sleepy-sloth @omwtkydttfym @divinelovers @maggiecc @i-am-a-simp1 @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @nelliereadsstuff @how2besalty @dreaminglandsworld @eilaharmonia @catvader101 @lexa138 @h0neylemon @dakotali @hermionelove @theseerbetweenus @whosscruffylooking @yourdailymemedelivery @emma-andrea1 @s1lngwns @meenyminymoes-blog @roxi-reid @rattertatter @sunnybunnyy2 @just-levyy @amaranth-writing @jennaaaaaaaaaaaa @joshhutchersonisdaddy @my-name-is-baby @hehehe13356 @quazsz @chloecharms23 @darlingsoulbeautifulthoughts @thehairington86 @imaegonstargaryenswife0 @ment1tavoid @hereliesme @tayrae515 @mottergirl99 @blackdxggr @giverosespls @erindiggory @feyretopia @bibliosaurus @sleila @soursonnets @blackoutdays13 @lovelyteenagebeard @nj01 @0bsessedwithfictionalcharacters @marimba375 @willow-g-1 @blahablah2 @inatimate-icarus @shoebillcuicui @scoliobean @awritingtree @h-------n @yoonki-bored @miserablebl00d @iloubr @fairytales007 @beannnnnnnn @dominicfikexoxo @aclmagic @helaenaluvr @ravenmedows @bigdolldoeeyesgirl to all taglist members, tell me if you want to be added to my finnick taglist overall! thank you for reading my fic, and thank you for enjoying it enough to even ask to be on the taglist.
additional a/n: see what i did there at the end—our song and DANCE ;) you guys, this is it. the song is over (for us at least). i'm in a mix of like pride and sadness. this has quite literally taken a year to finish. it's one of my fav things i've written to date, and at one point, it was the only thing i was writing. to those of you that have stuck around to the end, thank you. i really hope u enjoyed the series and its ending! i'm thinking of writing little blurbs for this and whatnot if ur interested, all revolving around their journey. eventually, i'll post a list of canons ab y/n and where i think she ends up. once again, thank you all so much for your support. reading your comments has never failed to make me smile. i love you!! have a great day.
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anna-proxx · 5 months
Text
☆ evening in camp ☆
pairing: arthur morgan x fem!reader
genre: fluff
word count: 1882
a/n: my dear readers, this is my first attempt at a rdr2 oneshot here on tumblr, I started with something easy but will definitely add more action in the future. this right here broke my writer's block and for that i am grateful. hope this brings you some comfort whenever you need it.
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It was a chilly evening, meek distant noise of nocturnal animals creating a peaceful ambience, along with the crackling fire nearby. The whole camp was already either asleep or holed up in their tents.
It has been a good day. Arthur and Javier successfully robbed a homestead, Micah was still locked up in jail and Bill brought a good catch from his hunting trip.
Javier sang and played the guitar by the campfire earlier and some people sang along. In general, this evening was one of those that made you feel warm inside.
The night sky was clear, stars peeking down at you as you wished your mare a good night, patting her neck and giving her a carrot before you'd leave her to sleep. That girl was dear to you and you showed her gratitude every day.
A small kiss on her nose and you finally turned around, admiring the full moon shining bright on the ink black sky. You walked across the quiet camp, careful not to make too much noise. You made your way straight towards the small light of an oil lamp in Arthur's tent.
He sat on his bed, slouched over his journal set on the table, writing with all focus. You smiled, feeling all the affection you felt for that man.
When you came close, he looked up from his journal, his gaze softening as he patted the place beside him. "C'm sit."
You sat right next to him, putting your hands in your lap as you gave Arthur a bright smile. He chuckled. "Ya done givin' that horse a g'night kiss?" he asked with a small grin on his face, returning his attention to the half-filled pages.
You slightly poked his arm with your elbow, a soft smile lingering on your lips. "She's like my family," you explained.
"I know. 'S cute."
You shuffled a bit closer, watching the pencil in Arthur's hand move swiftly. You enjoyed watching him write and draw, those idle moments always brought you comfort. And you had the honor to be allowed to watch. Arthur believed his drawings were nothing special but you knew better. His ability to draw details of an animal or scenery he saw just once from memory still blew your mind. You could barely recall such details, let alone draw them.
You quietly continued to watch, taking in every pretty letter he drew one after another. When he was done with the entry, he flipped the page and started sketching.
"What are you drawing?" you asked, watching the first lines of the sketch.
"A moose I saw t'day," Arthur answered, his voice calm and focused.
You continued to watch him and set your elbow on the table after a while, leaning your head against your hand. As always the drawing came out beautiful and you admired the authentic features of the animal that was looking up at you from the page. Arthur put the pencil aside and sighed, stretching his arms.
He then looked at you, a warm smile on his lips as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders. You leaned back from the table and snuggled into the half-embrace, resting your head on Arthur's shoulder. His body was warm and so were his fingers that drew small circles on your arm.
"Ya tired yet, darlin'?"
You smiled at the pet name and slightly shook your head. "Not really."
"Do y'want me to draw s'mthing for ya?" Arthur offered, watching your face intently as you thought.
"Me," you eventually said with a small grin. He drew you all the time and you loved every each one of those drawings.
"M'kay." He shortly caressed your arm before removing his from around you, shifting in his seat as he took the pencil again. He slightly nodded towards you. "Sit there, wanna hav' a good look at ya."
You slightly moved away to sit at the other edge, still facing Arthur who turned his body towards you, bending his leg on the bed to lean his journal against it. You shortly ran fingers through your hair, setting strands over your shoulders, and straightened your back, ready to be his model.
His face was relaxed as he started sketching, the soft sounds of the pencil gliding over the paper filling the air between you. Arthur kept looking up at you regularly, a gentle smile on his face as he met your soft affectionate gaze.
There was silence between you two but it was comfortable, happy. The light from the oil lamp lazily danced over the left side of his face, highlighting his features.
He was beautiful. As you remained motionless, you thought about how often he put himself down, being completely clueless about how he looked in your eyes.
"You're so pretty," you said quietly, nothing but affection and genuinity in your voice.
Arthur looked up at you surprised, then got visibly flustered as he blushed and looked back down at the sketch, scribbling on. He let out a small low chuckle. "I ain't pretty."
You slightly frowned, displeased with him rejecting the compliment like that. "So I am a liar?"
Arthur looked up, for a short moment he looked like a clueless child trying to find the right words. "I ain't meant it that way..."
You couldn't hold back a smile. "Just take the goddamn compliment, Mr Morgan, it's not so hard."
Arthur softly huffed as he returned his focus to the sketch, seemingly uncomfortable. A sad feeling grew in your chest. He really had no idea, did he?
"Am I a good model?" you asked after a while of silence. You knew very well he could draw you from memory but this was easier and you enjoyed being the center of his attention in any way. Frankly, Arthur enjoyed studying your features as you sat in front of him as well.
Arthur smiled. "M'favorite."
After a few more moments, he took a few glances at you and back at the journal with a satisfied expression, putting the pencil away.
Your face lit up as you shuffled over, curiously peeking at the page. You were met with your own soft gaze staring back at you, every detail of your face in its place. It melted your heart how carefully drawn each line was.
You kissed Arthur's cheek, loosely wrapping your arms around his neck. "Beautiful as always. Thank you."
"Yer beautiful," he said in response, putting the journal flat open on the table.
You slightly blushed and moved to sit behind him, resting your chin on his shoulder as you kept your arms wrapped around him. You weren't great at accepting compliments either. "Thank you, Mr Morgan." You sighed softly, feeling Arthur's hands envelope yours. "My talented outlaw," you mumbled quietly but clearly enough for him to hear.
You heard a chuckle. "What?" you asked, unsure of what that was for. "Yer in an affectionate mood t'day," he stated, amusement in his voice.
"There a problem with that?" you asked but the smile on your face remained.
You slightly leaned back and moved your hands to his shoulders, instinctively massaging them as you thought. Arthur was out hunting, riding and shooting most of the time, so your massages were always appreciated.
You heard a quiet sigh of relief as his body started becoming more relaxed.
"Would u like to go hunt with me tomorrow?" you asked. You were tired of being stuck in the camp and honestly going on a little trip with Arthur wouldn't be bad at all.
"Sure."
You smiled and reached for his suspenders, then slid them off his shoulders. He understood and unbuttoned his shirt so that you could get a better access to his back and shoulders.
"Thank you, darlin'."
You hummed in response and continued, your gaze moving over his exposed skin covered with small scars. You wondered about the story behind each one of them, some seemed to be almost faded while there was one very fresh bruise, a red line of dried blood.
Arthur took out a cigarette and lit it, puffing as he relaxed under your touch. He probably would've offered you one as well if you smoked, but you didn't, only ever tasting tobacco when you kissed him. You never minded.
After a few more moments you put a kiss on the nape of his neck, then kissed the fresher wound as well. You were always so worried whenever he left to do a dangerous job, only praying he'd return in one piece, but you knew it was his life; and you were a part of it.
When you moved to sit next to him again, cheeky smile on your face as your eyes met, Arthur sighed, mumbling with cigarette between his lips. "Yer too good for'm, woman."
You stared into his blue eyes for a long moment, a quiet voiceless conversation happening between you two with eye contact alone. He cared for you as much as you cared for him.
Without a word you snuggled up closer, soon being enclosed by body warmth as he embraced you. You relaxed into the hug and closed your eyes, just listening to Arthur's inhales and exhales of the smoke.
You assumed Arthur must've been thinking as well, as there was yet another comfortable silence between you two and you were slowly but surely slipping into sleep.
Arthur stubbed out his cigarette and wrapped his arm around your waist, making you open your eyes just as he moved back to a half sitting half lying position on his bed, effortlessly taking you with him so that you lay between his legs, head resting on his chest. You quietly giggled at the sudden movement and made yourself comfortable afterwards, positioning your head exactly so that you have Arthur's heartbeat beneath your ear.
You were happy to have him all for yourself, safe, alive. The mess in Blackwater or the emergent stop in Colter could've been much more fatal for you two. Davey and Jenny were gone. John was attacked by wolves. And although you loved Horseshoe Overlook, the homely feeling and the beautiful view, you knew you'd have to move eventually. You needed money and you weren't getting it exactly the legal way, and you could only lie low so long.
And frankly, with Micah in the gang now, your worry rose even more. Dutch trusted him, for some goddamn reason, but he seemed to be reckless and dangerous, bending some of the morals this gang used to have. Not to mention him being a straight up jerk to everyone.
"Arthur?" you spoke, your voice slightly worried as you caressed his arm with your fingers.
"Hm?" His chest vibrated under your head.
"We can't let another Blackwater happen again."
Arthur understood what you meant. Him and Hosea tried convincing Dutch that the ferry job was a bad idea but it happened nonetheless, putting your gang in a situation worse than ever before. You worried about the influence Micah had on Dutch and the potential limits.
You knew that Arthur trusted Dutch, him and Hosea raised him, after all; but he wasn't stupid either. And the plans Dutch claimed to have planted seeds of doubt in almost everyone.
Arthur's response was a sigh and a kiss on top of your head, his arms hugging you just a bit tighter. There wasn't really much he could say to comfort you, he always tried to be honest and he couldn't know how the future would unfold, after all.
But you trusted him. That he would do the right thing.
With Arthur's heartbeat echoing under your ear and embraced by his warmth, you were slowly being lulled to sleep by his regular breaths.
Whether you'd stay outlaws forever or not, this really was all you had wished for.
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tasteracha · 1 year
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I’ve noticed Bangchan has a habit of sticking his hands into the tears or holes of his jeans when he wears ripped jeans. And I can’t help but imagine he does this with his S/O’s jeans to mindlessly when sitting near them
noOOOOOO
god he’s so endearing and the fact that i do the same thing with my jeans makes me :))) he would ABSOLUTELY do that. he would also just stick his little fingers into whatever crevices he could find, i think. this kind of got away from me.
him sticking his hands in your back pockets when he’s standing behind you, wiggling his fingers around just so you squirm. him hiding his giggles into your hair as he continues his attack, only stopping when you’re both too breathless from laughter to stand up.
him sticking his hands in the front pockets of your jeans when you’re walking together, holding onto you like it’s a leash. he’s bouncing like an excited puppy next to you.
him sticking his fingers into the rips in your jeans that are right at your knee, dipping his fingers inside almost absentmindedly as you sit together. he’s thumbing at the fabric and rubbing the pads of his fingers against your skin like it’s the biggest comfort.
him sticking his fingers into the holes on your upper thigh when he’s feeling possessive, squeezing the flesh of your leg into his hands in a way you hope leave a painting of bruises there for you to look at tomorrow.
him sticking his hand into the waist of your jeans, popping open the button and zipper with the other hand as he dips lower and lower, shushing your whines with a we wouldn’t want anyone to hear, would we?
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bunnisari · 1 year
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just thinkin of a sub + sub relationship dynamic with armin arlet. just both of you guys always being so needy and whiny for eachother, fucking like rabbits every day. you both overstimulate each other, feeling so sensitive. armin would be hovering over you, your body laying spread on plush pillows. his reddish-pink leaking tip rubbed up and down your wet folds, bumping against your sensitive clit. you both let out whiny-breaths.
you both were so overstimulated but you wanted more of eachother. armin slides inside your warm hole, moaning loudly in your ear. “f-fuck you feel so g..good”
“more more more” you whined, thrusting your hips up to get him deeper. you felt so needy for him, wanting to be so close to him. armin can’t hold back the whines that leave his lips, thrusting fast into you. both of your cum from previous orgasms leaked out of you, spreading all over you and armin.
“a-ah i’m cummin m’cumming” armin hissed as his cock throbbed inside you, his cock shooting white ribbons into you. you clenched around around at an attempt to hold back your orgasm. armin winced, pulling out of you as you squirted clear liquid onto him.
you sobbed, biting your bottom lip as your eyes rolled back. “minnn f-fuck” you whimpered as armin rubbed his thumb on your clit. the room filled with your heavy breaths as you both came down from your high, both of you throbbing and tingling
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aot girls reacting to you getting a text from a girl late at night🌝
AOT GIRLS REACT( YEAH WERE BACK BITCHES) TO YOU GETTING A TEXT FROM A GIRL LATE AT NIGHT 😱😱😱
an: THEYRE ALL DRAMA QUEENS
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‗ ❍ mikasa
- she wonders why your phone is buzzing at 3am, and ofc she’s not the type to snoop around, but at this point it’s getting annoying and she just wants to go to sleep in peace. But that’s when she sees it, a text from an unknown number, saying something… only she’s suppose to say to you…
- mikasa would overthink it the whole night, barley being able to sleep just thinking about the possibility, no, the potential that you could be cheating on her.
- but this makes mikasa mad, not at you, but at this woman. Who does she think she is?! Texting you like that at this time?!
- she’s respond back angrily, but in a calm more sharply response.
- “text my girlfriend again and I’ll kill you”
- totally calm ☺️
- she’s ask you about it in the morning (or rather you would after seeing the angry text) and turns out it’s just a coworker that doesn’t get what no means.
- “I’ll still kill them if they text you again”
- “mikasa you CANT threaten people!”
- “that wasn’t a threat that was a promise”
- god I love her 😭
‗ ❍ annie
- Annie’s the same way. SHE GONNA PROTECT HER BAE.
- “y/n what the hell is this?!” She’d wake you up with a swift pound on your leg after you tried rolling over back to sleep.
- “OWW WHAT?!”
- “WHOS THIS BITCH TEXTING YOU HUH?!”
-“WHA- IDK ITS SOME SPAM ADVERTISEMENT”
- and then Annie realizes when she click the link you were telling the truth. “Oh-“
‗ ❍ pieck
- SO WORRIED SHED BE SO WORRIED. FULL PANIC MODE RED ALERT. I swear she’d be hyperventilating and shit 😭
- “y/n..” she’d say in a shaky voice, “can i talk to you..”
- “mhmmmm…” you say half asleep.
- “are you- cheating on me..?” You look up and her eyes would be all watery, causing you to go into instant panic mode.
- “OH MY GOD PIECK BABY WHY ARE YOU CRYING NO I WOULD NEVER”
‗ ❍ hange
- oh hange isn’t too worried about some cadet crushing on you. They just brush it off. BUT WHEN THEY START TEXTING YOU AT 3AM-
- they must have a death wish, or a wish to no longer be in the survey corps cause they ass FIRED
- nah in all seriousness hange would call them into a meeting the next day, telling them it’s about something different than BAM
- “so you’re trying to sleep with my wife?”
-“I UH-“
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