#are u ready for gale feelings

[astarionsilverbough]

Soon.

[madschiavelique]

So I thought up a smutty request last night for romanced Gale! Gale makes use of an invisibility spell:

Tav and Gale are on a stealth mission and Gale casts invisibility. During the mission they duck into a narrow alcove to escape the notice of a few guards on patrol.

“Wait. Why are we hiding?” Tav asks, hyper aware of how closely they’re pressed together.

“Instinct I suppose.” Gale says, grateful for the spell that hides his amorous blushing. “Eh-hem. I did just have an idea though.” He continues in low voice.

Tav stares into the darkness, confused. Realization dawns as they feel his excitement growing against their thigh.

“Oh! But… now?!” They whisper.

“Perhaps not now, perhaps at some point back at camp… if you’re amenable to… surprises.”

Now it’s Tav’s turn to blush without being seen.

“Yes.” They breathe, trying to reign in their own excitement and anticipation.

What do you think would happen when they get back to camp😏?

omg i'm sorry i took so long for this but i cooked harder than i thought for it and it's good (i think ?) ; a special thank u to @gracethyomen for proofreading me <333

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ pairing : gale x fem!reader

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ content warning : smut (mdni), use of spells for sex (hold person, blindness, mage hand, enthral), soft dom gale, finger fucking, gale is a teasing fuck, female/afab reader, if i forgot any other do tell pls !

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ words : 5,5k

It was supposed to be simple. Some kind of artefact retrieval without eyes or ears to witness about it. Scrolls and spells were ready, potions were about to be drunk, and your tools to disarm and lockpick anything were all properly arranged in your purse.

Gale was travelling lightly with no staff. Simply a belt with a few scrolls of Dimensional Door and Misty Step attached to it, ready to be used.

You had managed to get up some vines on the side of the manor containing the desired artefact, shushing Gale as he huffed and puffed upon arriving at the top of it.

“We could have just used a scroll to travel such heights,” he whispered.

“Who knows,” you murmured back, “we might need those soon.” You’d continued your way, silent as a shadow while Gale tried his very best not to trip on his robes as he knelt every now and then.

After following the instructions that had been given to you, you arrived at the room where the artefact was - fortunately enough for you - its current owner deemed it insufficiently important enough for it to be displayed at the very centre of the room. But rather it was placed on one of the shelves.. 

You lock-picked the balcony’s door linked to the room with sufficient ease, and once in it Gale made sure to point out to you that the stand on which the artefact was placed was trapped. 

You observed the mechanism and how you were supposed to take care of it, but during your meticulous contemplation, the gaze of your companion lingered on you with an intensity which you felt didn’t communicate any kind of danger.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” you whispered as you started dismembering the trap.

“Just admiring your concentration. As the days pass I understand how an artist never grows tired of his muse’s profile.” he hummed, his voice low.

You almost missed the proper sensitive screw of the trapped base, a hiccup of your heart making your hand tremble as your cheeks warmed.

After disarming it properly and placing the artefact in a bag, you left by the same way you had both entered. You were a bit less worried about being crouched and properly hidden now. You had retrieved the artefact without a problem, and now if you had to escape you could just use some scrolls or potions of Feather Fall to jump from wherever you were.

You simply walked on an outside balcony, listening to any new sounds in the night that could mean the approach of a guard.

“You surprised me before, you know.” you ended up whispering as you walked. 

“I am the one surprised you haven’t had such words spoken to you before, does it seem that unusual to you ?” he questioned.

“It’s not about that, although… whatever it’s just that it came out of nowh-”

But your words were cut as he grabbed your waist and pulled you in an alcove, murmuring the invisibility spell and allowing you both to disappear in the night. You were about to question him but he simply pressed his pointer finger to his lips, shushing you.

The resonating sounds of clicketing armour came to your ears, two guards walking next to one another in the far distance speaking about how boring the reception was at the manor tonight. Your heart was beating so hard you were certain Gale could hear it. You were so close to him, his hand firmly placed on your waist, your eyes unable to decipher where his own were.

He hummed, a shiver running down your spine as he moved his hand from your waist to the small of your back.

However, one thing struck you in the silence: the guards had not continued past you both. It seemed that they had chosen to patrol one section of the many corridors throughout the area… It seems you and Gale had grossly overestimated their dedication to the job.

“Wait,” you murmured, your voice barely audible. “Why are we hiding ?”

“Instinct I suppose.” His voice was low, yet filled with a sort of surprise. As if he had been pulled out of a dream, content with the idea that his furious blush was hidden. “I…” he was searching for his words and you could feel his breath crash on your cheek and ear, hanging on his lips in the waiting of what he was about to say. “I have an idea though.”

You couldn’t read his mind, from all the scrolls and potions you had to pick this one was the spell you wished you had with you. It wasn’t long before you understood. He sighed as the hand on your lower back pulled you slowly towards him, and he hummed. Your chest swelled when you inhaled, your mouth agape as you felt the hardness that was pressing against your thigh, and the realisation dawned on you.

“Oh…” you whispered, feeling the insistence of his gaze on you. “But… now ?”

“Perhaps not now,” he breathed, his forehead pressing against yours, “perhaps at some point back at camp, if you’re amenable to… surprises.”

You felt the way his lips curled in a small smile as he whispered the last word, and you felt your cheeks warming up. You tilted your head slightly, feeling your nose brushing against his as you opened your lips, feeling his own sigh fall onto them.

“Yes,” you murmured, trying to contain your excitement like it was about to overflow.

His chuckle was low, his hand finding yours, his thumb painting circular motions on the back of it.

“Then we better get back.”

You felt his forehead leave yours, and you supposed that he was checking if the guards were still there, whom you had completely forgotten about in your intimate haze. They had disappeared behind the corner, and Gale took no further minute before murmuring : 

“Non fit injura,” the featherfall spell. 

In but a second you were both imbued with a feeling of lightness, and if you thought your heart was about to fly out of your chest just mere minutes ago, you were now positively sure that if you excitement could grow wings you’d fly higher than any dragon.

You both took your impetus before dashing and jumping. You repressed the giggle that bubbled up your chest while falling. You reached the ground in perfect shape, hearing the slightest grunt somewhere on your left side from Gale. 

Sooner than you had expected, the invisibility spell vanished and you saw him. The moon’s light was shining on his earring as his eyes caught yours. There was a gleam of which even the stars could not match, a darkness filling his eyes like two onyx pearls.

“Shall we ?” he smiled, offering you his hand.

You felt like your smile would crack your face, and you took his hand in yours as you made your way to the camp.

You were received by the rest of the group, cheered on by the companions as they pointed to the artefact in question. Your first task at the start of the next day was to give this artefact to an apothecary, but the next day could wait: your thoughts were focused on Gale's words.

Surprises... What specifically did he mean by that?

Dinner came, and your companions asked you about the progress of your mission. Gale was the obvious narrator. He, who had so much love for recounting his anecdotes, began to describe at length the beauty of the building you had been in, slipping in here and there that Astarion would have appreciated the debauched party the hosts were having. Pointing out to Wyll that an acquaintance of the Blade’s father was apparently involved in all these celebrations, all the while occasionally making the group laugh.

"Are you perfectly certain that nobody saw you?" asked Shadowheart.

Gale's eyes rested on you for what seemed like an eternity. He had intentionally omitted to mention your slight pause on the way out. "Definitely safe," he assured.

Bedtime came and everyone went back to their tents. You passed Gale, his eyes roaming up and down your body before returning to your face, and his gaze moved from yours to your lips before he entered his tent.

Your own tent was a little way from the group's, and as leader of said group, they'd let you have a corner to yourself to let you breathe. Most of them were aware that you were trying as hard as you could to maintain a band of adventurers who were all comically different, and that this was no easy task. So they agreed you were entitled to a slightly more secluded corner for your peace and quiet.

But your peace and quiet did not give you rest from your whirling thoughts. As you finished taking off your day gear, a constant stream of questions took over your thoughts. 

Should you wait for Gale to come and see you? Should you go to him? At some point back at camp... What if he hadn't designated today? What if, after all, the adrenalin had worn off and his desires were no longer present? You didn't know what to do.

All your doubts were put aside, however, when one of the sides of your tent was raised and Gale stepped into it. His eyes were just as dark as when you landed outside the manor. You faced him, motionless, your heart fluttering between your ribs as he moved slowly towards you.

It wasn't long before he was as close to you as he had been in the alcove of the manor - a deep sigh echoing in his chest as his breath hit your ear and his beard scratched your cheek.

You tilted your head, looking up at him through your lashes, your eyes going from his eyes to his lips and trying not to look too desperate. He came to cup your face with his hand, and you leaned into his touch. His thumb softly grazed your skin, his second hand placing itself on your hip.

"I never thought waiting would be such a torment, yet this evening has proved to me otherwise." He murmured, his hand on your hip moving again to the small of your back to press you against him.

You brushed your nose against his, feeling his warmth and the weight of his words.

"Then why not end it now ?" you whispered back.

"Because I want to appreciate you," he murmured, his lips barely brushing yours, "delight in the sight of you, ink you in my mind..."

He didn't go on with his sentence, just let his lips touch yours, both your bodies relaxing instantly. Both of your hands came to his shoulder, one of them venturing to cup his face. He was gentle at first, almost hesitant, before revealing his hunger.

The hand that was cupping your cheek travelled to the back of your neck to kiss you harder, bring you closer to him, a surprised moan vibrating from your lips as his fingers combed their way in your hair.

As you leaned your head back from the slight pull he made, his lips lowered on your jaw, kissing your pulse point, your neck was to be his, now. He’d been sorely displeased when finding out you’d allowed Astarion to drink from it. From you. He came back to take your lips, his hands coming to unlace your shirt.

You lowered yours to mirror his intentions, but he gently took both of your wrists in his and brought them up to your head. 

“Hm hm,” he hummed like a softened tutting of a scolding parent, and through the haze you saw a glint of mischief in his eyes.

His fingers continued to take care in removing your shirt, but you couldn’t help the feeling, the need to touch him and be touched by him. 

You had waited enough, and so hadhe. He had no right to tease you so, to caress you with sweet words all evening and not let you have your fingers brush on his own skin.

Your arms lowered again, a hand placed on his shoulder as the other one rested on the back of his neck to bring him into another kiss, hungry, devouring his lips as he hummed and sighed in relief.

But in his chest rumbled a dark sound, vibrating on your lips before he whispered into them : 

“Non movere.” In an instant, lilac glyphs and squares grew on the ground, and soon enough your body wasn’t yours to command anymore. 

Unable to move byyour own will, you stood there, certain that whatever breeze coming over you would not be able to make even a single hair on your head move. Your wrists and ankles were stiffened, it was as if you had been blocked in a mould that you had yet to come out of… the new masterpiece of your creator.

You knew this feeling, knew the shape of it, the metallic smell of magic it left in the air once it was spoken.

You couldn’t do anything other than blink and let your lips part in complete surprise as your eyes fell on the glint of mischief his gaze held: he had just cast the Hold Person spell. On you.

He took a step back, observing you up and down his work, tilting his head to the side in his contemplation.

“Why did you do that?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper as the thrill of all kinds of possibilities electrified every limb of your body in anticipation.

His eyes set back to yours, and for once looking into Gale’s eyes gave you no response as to what was about to come.

“I mentioned earlier tonight,” he took a step forward you again, his pointer finger hooking under your chin to make sure your eyes wouldn’t leave his, “That I had a few surprises for you. Didn’t I, my little muse?”

His eyes did not leave yours as the back of his hooked finger traced the skin down your neck, brushing your pulse point. His stare darkened atthe feel of your rapid heartbeat.

His touch woke goosebumps in its path, blossoming on your skin as a warm shiver ran down your spine, arching your back as much as you could with the spell holding your body. Your breath hitched with a sharp inhale.

“You plant such ideas in my mind…” his finger traced your collarbone in a measured and agonising unhurriedness, “the driest of lands would flourish back to life by the thought of you.”

His voice had gone low, his words slow. His eyes searched for every reaction your body could provide by the single brush of his fingers on your skin. You tried pushing forward, tried moving to feel more than his fingertips on you, but the spell was holding you tight in place.

He hovered over the curve of your chest, your clothes suddenly feeling like they were becoming unnecessary. He finally reached the laces he had left to tie you in the air, continuing to untie them with the same ease.

“So impatient, what am I to do with you?” he said, his fingers untying the last remaining string.

His hands left it, your eyebrows furrowing as you let out an annoyed sigh. Your body was hot, your clothes now unwanted on your skin. The only thing covering you that could bring you satisfaction was Gale's touch covering your entire body.

He took a step to the side, then another, until he was no longer in your line of vision. But you felt his presence, felt his breath on the back of your neck as both his hands settled on your waist.

“Do you have a single idea…” he murmured, his mouth lowered to your ear as his hands moved up your waist to reach your arms and manipulate them to raise them above your head with incredible ease, “How hard you make it for me to keep my hands off you?”

His hands brushed against yours for a moment, making you shiver as your breath hitched in your chest, pushing it taught like a sail in the wind. His lips brushing against your ear made you want to turn your head to kiss him, to reach him, but the spell was binding you.

His hands went down following the curves of your body until they reached the sides of your shirt. He pinched them with both hands before whispering: “Caecus te.”

Your next blink left you in absolute darkness, your vision having been momentarily robbed by the incantation of the Blinding spell.

All the sensations were completely different, as if amplified. The warmth of Gale's breath on the back of your neck made you shudder and let out a soft moan, his scent of parchment and warm velvet perfumed your air, and his voice echoed in your soul like a white light as you felt his hands brush against your bare skin while removing your shirt. 

“Feeling you in the alcove bewitched me.”

Sparks burst beneath your skin as his fingertips barely grazed your waist, passing like a feather over your ribs before gently pulling your shirt over your head until the night air enveloped your upper body.

The distinct sound of your shirt falling to the floor in a heap of fabric almost made you jump. Gale's breath was no longer at the back of your neck, and the rustle of his clothes somewhere around you was your only indicator that he was still there.

Your breathing quickened, the uncertainty of what he was going to do to you making your heart and body race.

You gasped as the warmth of his hand touched the bare skin on your waist, suddenly inhaling. Its twin came to rest on your hip, the warmth of his palm spreading to your bones.

‘Your body is one I shall worship till my last breath is stolen from me,’ he whispered, his breath landing on your face, and you drank in his words through parted lips.

His fingers ran up your body like ivy over a statue in an abandoned garden, so that it would never be left alone. His fingertips brushed against the flesh of your breasts, covered by your underclothes, his touch tinting your skin with a warm light as it passed over the landscape of your body.

You wanted to press your body against his, to nestle your face in the nape of his neck as you embraced him, wishing you were no longer covered by anything and letting him roam every inch of your body.

His hands went down to the leather lace of your trousers, pulling on a single string to undo the buckle you made every morning. Your trousers had always been too big for you, with the last few weeks of emaciated food in camp and the constant fighting and walking making the loop to be tightened a little more every time. 

So it came as no surprise when the garment fell to the ground with a thump, revealing the remnant of skin that he had yet to see.

A low rumble vibrated in his chest and echoed on your skin, breathing in his air and all you could catch of him in the darkness you inhabited.

“Gods…” his voice had come closer, and the air seemed less cool as your cheeks heated.

His fingers hovered over your hip, running down your thigh as the other hand traced from below your navel to the edge of your underwear.

You heard him swallow, his breath landing on your chest and the beginning of your stomach. His head was down, his concentration complete. Your body was boiling, waiting for his every move.

“But before I can enjoy touching you, I want to look at you.”

And then his fingers left you cold, the sensation of freshness returning as you felt him no longer beside you. The contrast of the absence of contact was sudden, completely disorientating.

“Gale?” you called,

You chased him with your ears, looking for him in everything you could hear, everything you could smell, everything your body could feel. And just when you thought he had vanished into thin air or left, you heard: 

"Veni et iuva me."

You felt nothing on the spot. There was no physical change, nothing was blocked, nothing was new. But you shuddered at the thought of what he had just said: the Mage Hand spell.

"I won't touch you," you heard him say as you could make out the stool in your tent being moved "just yet, at least."

The legs of the stool were put down, and the rustle of clothes suggested that Gale had just taken his seat, ready to enjoy the spectacle of which he was the creator.

The cool, strange touch of his mage hand delicately grasped your chin. The touch felt icy in the moment, and you wondered whether the nature of the spell made it cool, or whether anything else in the moment would have offered a chilling contrast to the warmth of your desire spread across your body.

The finger followed the same path as Gale had just moments before as it passed from your throat to your collarbone, gently making its way to the valley of your breasts. The tip of his index finger grasped the small strip of fabric running around your torso, pulling it slightly upwards.

The fabric slid over, pressing on the roundness of your tits and making them fuller until they were free. The hand stopped pulling on the strap when it was above your bust.

His finger curved into a hook, tracing the roundness of your breast with the back of it, slipping under the little crease of warm skin where your breasts and torso met. Then he spread out his hand, putting his whole palm on it to embrace it.

His thumb went around the halo of your nipple, gradually approaching your hardened peak. The skin of his thumb came to rest on it, a moan passing your lips.

He made circular movements, sometimes returning to follow the contour of your areola before returning to the central point that had become so sensitive. His index finger joined it to squeeze it, causing you to inhale sharply.

"Do you like the way that feels?"

The hand kept pressing, brushing and caressing with a delicacy and skill that were second to none.

"Mhm," you hummed in response, all your thoughts turned to the delicious sensations you were being given.

"Use your words, my love. Your voice is way too pretty for me not to hear it."

His fingers pressed a little harder on your nipple, an additional moan rising in your throat.

"Yes, I like it." you managed to pronounce in the haze.

"Good," he replied, his voice low, "it would pain me to know you're not enjoying this as much as I am."

You imagined him sitting there, facing you, his hand caressing the air and guiding the blue silhouette against your curves. He was the real master of your desire at that moment, and although you loved the sensation he was giving you, you would have preferred it if it had been his own hand touching you.

You felt the warmth of the knot in your belly building, and your slightly half-open thighs couldn't move to stick together and give you any friction to ease the desire burning inside you. Two words echoed through you: 

"Touch me," expelled your voice.

"Isn't it what I am doing dearest?" he replied as his hand left your breast and moved down your rib.

"I want you to be the one touching me."

His digits ran down your bust, following the curve of your belly until they reached your navel.

"All in due time, my little muse."

His fingers went down to the fabric of your underwear, skimming over the elastic before continuing down your thigh. He took hold of it, gripping it firmly before loosening his grasp, his thumb tracing circles on your skin.

His hand ventured to the warm inside of your thigh, and no matter how hard you tried to move your hips forward or press your thighs together, you were getting nowhere, a frustrated sigh rising in your chest.

He caressed the tender skin there, moving up slightly but never reaching the core of your desires.

"Gale," you pleaded with a ragged breath, "I'll let you do anything if you just touch me right now."

You heard him laugh lightly, taking pleasure in the fact that you wanted him so badly.

"Let's not get hasty in promising anything when you're in such a state," he replied. “Besides,” He crooned teasingly. “Whatever I want is already within my reach.”

What other spells could he possibly use? Your thoughts wandered for a few moments over various possibilities as the fingers of the mage's hand made your veins feel like they were made of electricity.

Command to order you to get to your knees or approach him without you having a grasp on your body ? Enlarge to make himself bigger and dominate you better ? Conjure a Myrmidon to join him in seeking your pleasure ?

But all concentration on the subject flew away in a shower of sparks as the fingers of the mage's hand landed on your covered cunt.

A deep whimper of pleasure echoed through the tent as his fingers moved slowly back and forth, caressing you as they moved from your lips to your clit with a cruel slowness. His thumb pressed gently against it, and the heat in your lower belly grew as you sank your teeth into your bottom lip to keep another moan from escaping.

"Don't loweryour voice my dear, no one but me will hear you tonight."

How could he be so sure? How could he say with such certainty that-

A silence spell over the sleeping camp.

Intelligent fucker.

Your teeth loosened the grip they had on your bottom lip, letting your voice rise in the air with every calculated movement the magician made on your pussy.

"I had no idea you were so sensitive," he remarked as he pressed his thumb a little harder, the fabric of your underwear moistening by the second and ruining under his touch.

Eventually, his fingers came to grip the side of the fabric covering you, pulling it aside. The chill of the night air slammed into the damp warmth of your cunt, your cheeks heating at the thought of Gale's gaze on the mess he'd made of you.

He said nothing, but you could feel his stare on you. You imagined the intensity of it, his lust-darkened eyes beneath his furrowed brows, his hand raised to guide Mage's hand. Did he have as much trouble containing himself as you had staying grounded?

The middle and index fingers of the hand came together before resting on your folds, your breath coming in short gasps. He let them press lightly between your lips, letting your wetness coat his fingers.

His thumb went back to your clit, the difference in sensation without any fabric to cover you making you tremble. It wasn't long before one of his fingers was inside you, caressing the heat that was making you ache.

You wanted to move your hips, look for more friction, more movement, but Gale had calculated his move so that you would end up like this: at his mercy, your pleasure controlled by his every move.

His movements were slow, measured, but of unrivalled delight. Your tongue flicked over your lips before moaning as he pushed a second finger in, making hooking movements, as if he were trying to guide your body and your desire towards him and him alone.

Your belly was hot, your lower back burning. Your breath hitched as his fingers found the spot that made you see stars. You felt the knot tighten, like a warm summer cloud spreading across your hips.

You felt close, and you dreamt that your deliverance would end on his fingers. Then you realised that, maybe, all he was waiting for was the magic word.

"Gale," you managed to say between groans, "please."

You heard him rise suddenly, walking towards you as the mage's hand slipped away from you. A whimper of complaint escaped your lips as you felt so close to climax with nothing to reach it anymore.

"Te absolvo" he said, sounding short of breath and eager.

As your eyes took in the dark light of the room again, you saw him from an angle that set your body ablaze.

Gale's face was close to yours, the violet light of the Hold Person spell illuminating his utterly mesmerised features, his pupils dilated almost to pitch black as he breathed heavily through parted lips.

You realised that, although you had been restrained and tormented by his spells, he was the one who was bewitched.

Breathless, regaining your senses, your eyes moved from his eyes to his lips for a moment before returning to his gaze, in which the amethyst sparkle glowed of magic. 

"Please," you repeated in a whisper, "touch me."

Gale tilted his head to one side, his eyes falling on your lips for a moment as he chewed the inside of his cheek, as if he himself were holding back capturing your lips in a kiss, or more...

His hand came to rest on your thigh as his hot breath spread over your skin, the warmth of his palm contrasting with the cold of the mage's hand. He moved slowly up your skin, gripping the elastic of your panties, his eyes never leaving yours. He ran his thumb underneath it, his second hand grasping the other side and gently pulling your underwear down to mid-thigh.

His fingers brushed the inside of your thigh, and your breath hitched as you tilted your gaze down to watch, the use of your body seeming to return to you as the spell gradually lessened its hold. But the Mage hand came to grip your chin, raising your face so that your gaze didn't leave Gale's.

"Don't look away."

He wanted to see every detail of your face, every reaction, the beauty of what his fingers could awaken in you. Yes, he wanted to see this spectacle.

His fingers came to cup your cunt, a sigh of relief escaping from between your lips

"Oculi tui solum volunt," he murmured.

You hadn't heard him say that spell before, but a sudden feeling came over you: you couldn't take your eyes off him.

No matter how hard you tried to look away, you couldn't. Turning your head, looking at another part of his face, nothing seemed to work. Enthralled, that's what you were.

One of his fingers sank into you, its thickness wider than a mage's hand and warmer. He tilted his head back slightly, his eyes thin and dark as he watched your every reaction.

The feeling of your warm walls closing on his fingers was something he was addicted to, knowing he was the orchestrator of your pleasure made him want to let this vision of paradise last forever. His thumb caressed your clit, your body reacting immediately by tightening around his finger as you moaned.

Gale's free hand moved up to your breast, gripping it gently as his thumb pressed lightly against your skin. 

"You wanted me that much, little love?" he asked, the realisation of how wet you were satisfying him beyond measure.

"Yes," you replied, your breath catching as he thrust a second finger in.

His two thumbs made circular movements over your nipple and you clit, his fingers inside you moving perfectly and touching the perfect spot again without effort.

You felt you were near, and so did Gale. The knot was getting tighter and tighter, your lower belly as if lit up by a marble-sized sun. His eyes shone for a moment, a glint of mischief that you now knew all too well.

The mage's hand gently let go of your chin, moving down a little until it was around your neck, and squeezing on each side.

"Come for me," he breathed, his eyes fixed on yours.

The world shattered into a thousand pieces as everything turned to the white warm light. Vibrating waves beat through your body like a second heart, pulsing until your thighs shook and your walls squeezed Gale's fingers spasmodically and the pressure on your neck made you see stars.

Gale whispered something you couldn't hear, and the purple glyphs disappeared as you fell into his arms, still shaking from your orgasm. He lifted his head and kissed your temple, stroking your hair.

"That's it, good," he murmured. Then your breath stilled, nestling your face in the hollow of his neck for a moment before returning to his eyes.

"You have a way with surprises," you said in your haze as he laughed softly.

"I think the most pleasant surprises come with the inspiration you bring me," he admitted as his hand cupped your cheek. "But I do think your thoughts have suggested a few ideas that I simply can't wait to try out."

You frowned for a second, "My thoughts?"

He raised an eyebrow, a sneer stretching his lips as the realisation dawned on you: a mind-reading potion. What you couldn't say in words, your body and mind had been shouting at him all this time.

"How are you feeling?" he asked anyway, for the politeness of the gesture.

"Good," you confirmed as your head fell on his shoulder. "So good."

"Excellent, because you won't get an ounce of sleep tonight."

[mrs-kmikaelson]

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!!

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.

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.

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.

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."

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

[mashiraostail]

main party.....kink list??? orrrr wah

ya officer thats them thats the horny mf

I know there r some well accepted fanon ones sooo im gonna try to get funky with it for u all but if some of these r overdone i apologize im simple minded

Lae'zel: Sensory dep I think?? Going both ways but I think she really enjoys the trust you puts into her when you let her blindfold you. She also thinks of it as a sort of milestone, when she trust you enough to let things go the other way. Something about the surprise of it, the not knowing what's next heightens the experience for her. Seeing you keening, and trying desperately to find her touch even when you can't see her does wonders for her ego. She likes a power play too, she likes to hear you beg, she loves a little bit of groveling she can't help it. She especially enjoys the feeling of your hands scrambling against her back and shoulders as you desperately try to ground yourself again. She may or may not push you just bit past overstimulation. She can't put it into words, she likes having that control, she likes knowing she could do whatever she wants to you, and knowing she would never actually hurt you in a weird way reminds her how much she loves you.

Gale: Body worship!! Bro shoulda been a cleric he loooovvees to worship sm. He can't even help it and he may not be doing it on purpose either. When he sees you naked he's about ready to drop to his knees and start sobbing, how could somebody so near perfect see him as worthy company? He will kiss and lavish every inch of you all night, if you don't snap him out of it he honestly might forego sex entirely in favor of just doting on you. His hands will NEVER leave your bare skin, once it's exposed he will keep an incredibly curious, wandering hand on you at all times. He just loves every inch of you, and I do mean every inch; he will never turn his nose up at any part of you, he's content to kiss and massage you all night if that's what you want. He can't help getting sidetracked here and there either, he simply cannot promise that he won't be overcome with the desire to fuck into your thighs, or rut against your stomach and chest and he will indulge himself. He's Mr. Pussydrunk, he can't help it. Maybe he's a little pathetic, and he can admit that. There is not any kind of sex that is not centered on you, he just wants to look and kiss and touch and have all of you.

Karlach: She loves a little bit of a risky tryst, she never wants to actually get caught of course but the thought is thrilling alone. Quickies in the bathroom, around dark corners, down secluded alleys and so on. She likes the challenge of keeping you quiet and she loves to see you embarrassed. "Oh no, Karlach we shouldn't..." but you can't resist her and that's what she likes so much about it. Of course she likes seeing her hand over your mouth, watching your head loll around as you will yourself to be quiet; but at its core she loves knowing you just can't deny yourself, you want her just as badly was she wants you. When you have some more privacy she'll take her time with you, make sure you feel the same love that she does when you just can't help yourself. But there are times where nothing seems better than whisking you away, rendering you stupid, and then sending you on your way.

Wyll: He's such a good boy i know i know but I am so certain that he loves leaving some marks on his partner. He honestly feels a bit bad about it at first, and you'll have to put it him at ease about it, tell him you enjoy it, and you're okay if he is. He may have some slight jealous tendencies so knowing that possessiveness in general is enjoyed by you is a huge help to him. He will NOT go crazy with it, he'll always feel a little ashamed of it, but he can't help leaving one or two small love bites around the collar of your shirt, promise him you don't mind and he may been keen on more heavily marking obscured areas like your inner thighs or your stomach. He won't mind you returning the favor at all, a few scratches down his back, some bites on his collar, it's all good to him. He likes to know that he's yours just as much as he likes knowing you're his.

Shadowheart: Lowkey ofc but she's a threesome girl I just know she is. She loves a good threesome, sometimes she just likes to watch sometimes she just wants you to watch her and sometimes she likes all three of you together. She's not the jealous type, she's not insecure, and she loves seeing you embarrassed by all the attention and stupid with pleasure. She also loves a little bit of the princess treatment too (a lot). Doesn't have to be Halsin, but she'd be thrilled at the proposal of course. She doesn't have a preference for the breakdown, men or women, whatever else, it's all good to her and each has it's own unique perks. She likes getting to really take you in, to see everything about your body and your face and the noises you make without worrying about focusing on making you feel good, she likes being a backseat driver and she likes the look on your face when you watch her. It's certainly not an every time thing, she likes having you to herself too, but when the situation is right she'll rarely turn her nose up at a worthwhile proposition.

Halsin: He's a giver, just through and through man. Similar to Lae'zel he likes being in control, but in different ways. He loves the idea of you just being completely in need of him and totally unable to deny any of your desires. He loves to take care of you, and seeing how easily you surrender to him. You can beg, he'll love it, though he'll never ask you to. No, he'll never deny you, he'll be sure you get everything you ask for in due time, he just loves to unravel you, overstimulate you, and just enjoy your body. He loves crowding you into a corner, taking up all your senses and listening to you keen for him. He wants to see you fumble over yourself, blush, or look away from him, he loves to see how easily he can suck the air out of your lungs. He's been alive for a long time and he'd be an idiot to not know the effect he can have on people, or to not be able to tell when someone is interested. He'll lean into the attraction that already exists, lingering touches, fond nicknames, eye contact, general closeness and so on, he just likes to see you fall apart.

Astarion: true love Praise/dirty talk, maybe a little denial at times too but he'll never push you too far, he may seem sadistic but he can't hold out on you very long at all. He likes see how nervous he can make you just with the things he says alone. I think he may bite you during sex if you tell him you enjoy it but I don't think it would be a regular thing and after you really truly get together you'd have to give it time before bringing it up. Obviously he has to feed to on some kind of blood to stay alive and if sex can make it enjoyable for the parties involved he won't turn it down. He could bring you right to the cusp of an orgasm then bite down, partial curiosity partial cruelty. Would it deny you or would it push you over the edge? He'd be happy with either result. He's got a big head but it doesn't hurt to feed his ego, and a little praise can take him a loooonnngg way, before, after, or during sex.

[f4riedimples]

teachers pet

Pairings: katniss Everdeen x fem!reader

warnings: slight age difference(you can determine how much older katniss is than you for now),teacher/student relationship, affairs, talks of past trauma, g*le(1 mention)(no smut in this one sorry!)

summary: it was fucking beautiful, until it went too far.

wc:1603

a/n: I am not promoting anyone to do this irl, don’t let this flop, changed the og summary(I can tag u in the og ss)

This was never how it was supposed to happen.

At first you just came in and it was innocent practice.

How did it become more?

You never thought that this would happen and you felt guilty about it. But you didn't wanna tell anyone because not only did you not wanna rat out Katniss but you still enjoyed everything she did those days and nights as well

Just last week you lied about having to stay longer for "extra practice" to someone. In reality you were doing something you weren't meant to be.

You were sleeping with your teacher.(bow and arrow instructor)The mockingjay.

Katniss Everdeen.

Were you proud of it? Not completely but did it feel good for both you and Katniss? Hell yes.

And shamefully you were starting to feel something deeper for Katniss. But you knew you couldn't express it. She had peeta. And besides. She's older than you.

She would probably just try to dismiss it.

But you'd still go back. Out of love and out of the shameful way you would moan underneath her and twitch as she gave you what you wanted.

That was good enough. For now.

Right now instead of where you both usually practice which is in the woods or at a training center she's told you to come to her house.

Once you knock you know there's no point of even pretending to train. She was gonna take you.

She opens the door with a warm smile that turns into a small smirk once she sees you.

"Hi there Girl Scout. Looking for someone?" She jokes before chuckling. You can't help but giggle before she makes room for you too come inside.

You take a look around the house you've only been too once. Or twice. Or three times If you can remember. It's been a few months since you and Katniss started this but you haven't been able to come over her house that much.

"Hey Kat." You speak before looking down with a certain look in your eye. Katniss can't tell if it's just a soft look or if you want her.

At the end of the day you know you're here to do more than just hang out.

She takes a seat next to you. "Well hi there." You turn your body and look Katniss up and down as if you're asking if she's ready.

She's been through so much because of gale, the capitol, president snow and coin. Maybe she needs a stress relief. Although she's never really brought it up it still makes you think she deserves this.

Especially when she's rough. She needs to get her anger out.

She simply gives you a light kiss on your jaw then cheek before finally giving one on your lips. You moan as she slips her tongue into your mouth and gets a taste of you.

You, of course, immediately kiss back. Why wouldn't you? You both love this after all.

You run your fingers through Katniss' hair as she

puts her hands on your waist to pin you in place. Oh, the ideas that are coming to your pretty little head.

Just before you and Katniss can actually get down you both hear a knock on the door and immediately separate.

You instinctively whisper. "Who the hell is that?"

You ask with wide eyes before she speaks with a non whisper.

"I dunno." She shrugs casually and calmly before getting up with a sigh. She walks to the door but stops midway before turning around and speaking with a lower voice.

"Oh, and just so you remember, I don't think anyone would think anything If they saw me with a younger girl. Even if you're my student." She reminds you casually before turning around and walking back to the door.

She opens it and sees Johanna. "Well hey there brainless."

You see the smile on Johanna's face before she notices you and squints hers eyes slightly. Could she already be suspecting what's going on?

If she did you wouldn't be surprised since Johanna is pretty smart. As they talk you head to the bathroom and when you're out you get a bit of curiosity.

You decide to head to Katniss' room and go inside.

It's of course empty since she's downstairs with Johanna so you take opportunity to be nosy and look around.

You decide not to look on her dresser because that might have some precious things from her family but you do decide to look around and move towards her bed ready to take a seat.

Before you can however, you hear someone open the door and immediately turn around almost scared that it's Johanna or haymitch came over. Even worse:peeta.

Once you turn around to the person ready to explain you see it's just Katniss with a slight smile. "Hey baby. What are you doing in here?" She asks a little confused.

"Oh- I just didn't wanna interrupt what you and Johanna were talking about." You say with a nervous chuckle. Before you can apologize Katniss puts her hands on your shoulders.

"Oh that's no problem. You're always allowed in my room as long as you don't snoop around." She says calmly which you reply with a head nod. "Okay!"

And before you know it Katniss pins you against the wall. She of course had no intent on actually doing anything with you exactly at this moment but she liked seeing you nervous.

"Um- well this seems fun." You reply starting to shake the nerves off. Katniss gives a light hearted chuckle. "That's a good girl." She says before giving you a kiss on the head.

It was gentle and sweet which is something you liked about Katniss. She's didn't make you feel pressured into anything but she also didn't make you feel like a child.

It felt like a normal relationship.

"Now cmon. I think Johanna wants to see you." She says before taking your hand and leading you down

stairs. Once there you both immediately have a seat.

"So how've you been brainless junior?" Johanna quips mockingly. But not seriously at the same time.

It was an insult that she didn't care if you fight like but she also wasn't her intent to make you possibly upset.

You laugh at the nickname usually meant for Katniss. "Doing just well hothead." You spoke the half truth.

This was gonna be an interesting ride.

You and Katniss weren't getting to do anything which internally made you nervous and a little irritated not just for yourself but mostly katniss since you know that's probably the main thing she cares about doing with you.

You could tell by the look in her eyes she was upset especially when Johanna made a comment about inviting haymitch.

You saw the time and realized that your "lessons" were about to end. You get up from where you rested and head towards the door, followed by Katniss.

Katniss turns you around and looks at your face realizing that you're on edge. "What's wrong?" She asks as if she doesn't know.

You whisper trying not to feel any certain way.

"Because what do you think? Why didn't you tell me Johanna was coming over?" You ask trying to keep your composure. It's not like you mind Johanna's presence but this wasn't the time.

Katniss sighs before whispering back. "I didn't know okay? Besides you're acting like I'm upset we didn't have sex. I'm just upset we didn't get to spend a lot of time together." Katniss speaks pretty honestly causing you to sigh in a mix of relief and guilt.

Maybe you should've came quicker. (Something both you and Katniss have said before)

"I just- i thought that was the plan today." You say causing Katniss to roll her eyes at the idea. "Yeah."

"I did want sex. But I also wanted to see you just to see you." This wasn't one of the days Katniss just wanted to see you out of horniness which surprises

you.

"Oh..." Katniss softens up a bit. "We don't need to

have sex twenty four seven. Some days I really just wanna spend time with you." She speaks truthfully but you can't help but remember a thought just as

you were gonna smile.

"You have peeta. You don't need some random girl, someone you're training on the side." You whisper almost as if you're really getting upset now.

Katniss doesn't get mad immediately and actually seems a bit concerned and like she's trying to calm you down. Maybe just so Johanna won't hear or her suspicions.

"Listen, I know that. But I wanted you too. Why is that such a problem? We have each other now." Katniss says, developing a bit of attitude.

"So what? This is stupid. I can't keep doing this to myself Katniss. I might never be able to be with you like I want to not only because of my age. But because you're with peeta." You whisper your argument to Katniss. Trying to keep your emotions at bay.

Katniss starts with her feathers a bit ruffled. "It's it fucking stupid. I want you both. That's what I'm gonna get. Because you're perfect. I love you."

Katniss ends soft. She had never said this before.

Maybe she was just as deep as you knew you were.

There might be no going back on your emotions. You look up a bit stunned. "Okay.." you say a bit confused. Could this be true? "I- I love you too."

You spoke then giving Katniss a smile. Then you left.

Too blinded to turn back.

[meyousing]

𝐑𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐥, 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤; 𝐈 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞

FOR MY POOKIEWOOKIE @moongreenlight !! who i adore sososo much I HOPE U ENJOY !! 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: after realizing what raphael could do for you before; ridding your mind of the emperor for the briefest moment, you wanted to know how that could feel for a second time, no matter the cost. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: -> sneaky HUMAN raphael, non-con, deception and lies its raphael what else did you expect. probably a little ooc since this is for pookie so fk canon :D. as always all sexual nsfw will be under the cut!

I'm walking, you've been hiding,

And you look half-dead half the time.

Monitoring you, like machines do,

You've still got it, I'm just keeping an eye

You told yourself that you’d do anything for answers, that the cost didn’t matter–you wanted a solution, a cure to your tadpole infliction, and despite knowing better than to trust a devil, you were growing hopeless and running low on any other options. Yes, you knew the magic that Halsin told you about, the same words later spoken by the Emperor; their proclamation of impossibility regarding the worm’s extraction no matter which method you attempted, from whomever. But there was one time, and only one, when you remembered what mental quietude could sound like amidst such circumstances.

So, veiled by the darkness of the night sky en route, you navigated through Sharess’ Caress to the upper floors, intent on finding Raphael–even though he was hardly the paragon of trust–and experiencing solace in silence once again, something that, unfortunately, only he could provide. Gale was always going on about the benefits of respite, and this one you craved like a drug, now that you could remember how solitude felt after so long without it. What a crime to wish for independence within one’s own mind these days. 

You didn’t bother knocking, he likely sensed you at some point or another on your way here, what with his attentiveness to you and all that implied your involvement. You didn’t care about being the intrusive one for once, careening the door open and briskly sending it shut behind you.

“Surely you didn’t think that little disguise would work?”

“It wasn’t meant for you.” You tugged your hood down easily and shrugged the rest of your cloak off, balling it up and tossing it aside carelessly. You spotted Raphael standing a few feet away, in the first doorway of the den, his back to you. Yet he knew what you were wearing. 

He turned and lifted a brow at you, but the rest of his expression showed obvious disinterest in speaking about this any further than the short exchange. 

“Have you come to make the right choice?”

“Bold assumption,” you said quickly, not yet ready to fully admit why you sought him out in your situation; in the dark, on your own. “Shouldn’t you ask why I’m here first?”

“All I needed was a look at you to know.”

You didn’t respond, and he grinned, his lids low as he watched you.

“But I’ll let you tell me anyway, I wouldn’t want to spoil your fun. What troubles you, little mouse? What is it that’s brought you right into the cat’s paw?” he approached slowly, hands interlocked behind him as he subtly looked you up and down–knowingly–like you were the subject of an experiment. That wasn’t entirely wrong. 

“I want you to do… whatever you did for me before, again.” You kept your eyes on him, speaking somewhat hesitant but remaining strong in your stance, your gaze unwavering. You noted the way he subtly mouthed along when you spoke the word ‘again’, tauntingly, like he already had you figured out. Perhaps he did. 

“You don’t mean this?” He murmured, and with a snap of his fingers, your mind was yours again; that insistent, idle static now fizzled out. 

Your eyes widened, brows uplifting alongside your lips as you nodded; it was just like the last time, pure silence aside from your own little conscience as it came to the same giddy realization that it was alone once more. Raphael only chuckled, and after a too-short moment, your mind was back to its newly but usually muddled state. The Emperor had nothing to say yet, which you were grateful for, as it saved you the need to seek an excuse for his inability to communicate with you in a second instance that shouldn’t have been possible the first time around.  

“Are you expecting me to do you a favour like that for nothing?” he laughed dryly, mockingly; it made you feel like the vermin that was about to be squashed beneath a dirty boot sole. “You may be the brightest, most shimmering jewel in my crown, but something so deliciously close to free will in a time like this cannot come without charge. What’s more, it is most costly when one chooses selfishness over the common good.” 

You should have expected this. You must’ve known deep down that it wouldn’t be so easy, that Raphael wouldn’t be a one-time good samaritan–a saint–and do you this favour, even in spite of all the honeyed names that’d roll off of his tongue when he sought you out, making it seem as though you were a little more special than his usual clientele. Stepping forward with a frown, you scoffed:

“How am I being selfish?” Was he just toying with you for his entertainment now? You hadn’t been here for long, but the trip would be cut off even sooner if this continued. You craved relief, but not enough to get tangled up in the deep end with a devil, to a point of no return.  

“Why do you deserve the fix before anyone else? Do you think I’m a good-willed cleric made to provide relief to all those with your affliction?” Despite how incredulously he spoke, you could tell now that he was merely testing you. Testing you for what exactly, you couldn’t tell; your will, your determination?

“Who are you to be the dictator of right and wrong?” you countered him with a question of your own, stepping up closer once he stopped in his tracks. He hardly raised his brows in his fullest reaction to your bravery, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest. 

“I’m not. But I’m the only one who can provide a moment of respite to you, and I don’t work for free. Is that not fair? You are asking for quite a privilege.” He smirked like he knew what you would say next.

“You’ve already done it for me once before, what makes it different now? It’s temporary anyway, is it not? Am I wrong?”

“It is. But last time was just a… sample if you will. For a second taste, a true dealing between us, you’ll need to do something for me too.”

You grimaced, and he looked too pleased with himself. You’d managed to avoid getting involved with him this far along, rejecting most ultimatums he offered, and you’d been fine without his assistance–or obstacles, rather. Yet now, something initiated completely of your own accord was creating a conflict that you could’ve avoided if not for your greed and its insistence; you weren’t done yet.

“Fine” you conceded, rather quickly too. His smirk widened, he looked so smug.

“Good, good” he purred. You blinked a few times, your body having an unexpected reaction to the bassy sound as you averted your gaze, refusing to recognize it.

“What do you want from me, then?” you mumbled.

“What do you think I would like from you–my dearest–” he drew out, “in exchange for my services?” He tilted his head, and he seemed a lot closer than you last remembered. He was much more visible in your periphery even as you forced your eyes aside. Were you supposed to answer that question and know what to say, what he wanted?

“I-I don’t know. Do you want me to take the deal with you and promise you the cro–actually, no, that is way too much in exchange for a few minutes of sile–”

“No” he cut you off sharply, his expression falling flat. “That, I can wait for. Your choice will be even sweeter to hear the longer you hold out on me. But considering our current circumstances…” he trailed off, and when you didn’t look at him during that pause, you felt hands slide up your waist. 

You blinked at the same time that your body jolted–a millisecond–and your surroundings changed. You still stood in Raphael’s grasp, just before the dining hall’s grand table within the House of Hope. Your eyes darted around warily, but you still felt an odd sense of… calm. Raphael, so tenderly that your heart thrummed a little off-beat, slid his fingers up your body and down your arms, grasping your wrists as he led you to one of the seats; facing the flames that so ironically burned in the fireplace. He walked slowly, dare you say methodically, striding to take a spot across from you.

"Indulge yourself” he muttered, looking utterly observant. He placed his chin atop his hands, fingers interlocked into a fist. He didn’t touch the food, but you expected as much.

“I’d rather not” you garbled, your gaze careful while you studied him and tried not to overreact, still settling into the new environment. You didn’t have an appetite per se, not for the deceptive refreshments that were too perfectly laid out before you anyway. Raphael may have been worming his way into your routine so often, just like the godsdamned tadpole itself, but his presence lingering for so long didn’t equate to trust yet. 

“Then indulge me.”

You watched him reach for and open a bottle of wine, one you didn’t recognize as common among those you’d scraped together from wooden boxes and crates on your way to the gate. It looked more prestigious, the bottle was embellished with what you could only assume to be real gold melted within the glass, and it caught the light so intriguingly each time he tilted it to pour some out; a drink for him, a drink for you. You looked away when he stood and took the chalices in his hands, placing one before you and promptly returning to his seat. When you looked to him again he had elevated the goblet in his hand, his chin lifting.

“To a new era.”

Your fingers approached the table, tips dancing towards the stoup’s base, the entirety of which could have been crafted by Gond and polished by Moradin. You wondered, despite how aged everything throughout the House was by the natural processes of time; cracked tile, buffered but helplessly dull stone… the stemware looked so new; untouched. He didn’t save it just for you, surely? Flitting your eyes back to Raphael as you thought about it, you noted how he finished taking a slow sip, lowering his cup back to the tablecloth. You couldn’t stop yourself from watching his tongue dart out to get some more of the taste, from what lingered on his lips. He noted your longer-than-usual silence, and those same lips turned up. 

“Your insistence, or stubbornness, rather, is very endearing in more… suitable circumstances. For once, you should try to act less like the illithid you’re bound to become and let go of those inhibitions. Look where you are” His head swayed slightly to his left, to the room, fingers drumming mutely on the tabletop. 

The wine was tempting, and his taking a first sip did comfort you in some way. You spared him a final glance before zeroing in on your goblet, staring down the dark liquid inside, watching the warm candlelight rippling reflectively on its surface. Perhaps it couldn’t hurt to indulge just this once, you thought, as you took the cup into your hand.

Raphael nodded along, encouragingly. Uncharacteristically. 

You figured there was no harm in it, especially if he was as fond of you as he claimed, then he wouldn’t want you to meet a preemptive demise. Not yet. 

You bit the bullet, raising the chilled gold to your lips. You did feel rather parched, and the substance slid down your throat so smoothly, so soothingly.  

“You know, I poisoned one of our goblets.” 

Exhaustion was sent over you like a wave, and not because of the poison immediately having an effect–had it been your substance that was tampered with–but because of course he did. You sighed, your eyes falling closed to console that Raphael-induced fatigue. 

“Gods, I hope it’s mine,” you muttered beneath your breath.

He let out what you may have heard as, amidst all of your quarrels, his first genuine laugh. His face was delighted as he shook his head. 

“Are you so displeased at the prospect of dining with me?” he leaned back in his seat, grinning and crossing a leg over the other. Getting comfortable. Settling in. You were tense in opposition, knees tight together as you kept yourself at the edge of your chair.  

“This clearly isn’t all that you want from me, Raphael. Either get on with it, or let the toxins do their job and let me off easy” You put the goblet down, pushing it forward and away as you inhaled sharply, now on higher alert considering the circumstances. 

“It’s only a bit of fun. The dose isn’t lethal, I couldn’t rid Faerûn of such a treasure in that crude of a way.”

At least you were right about that. 

Raphael said nothing else as he took in your silence, and his expression didn’t say much either. He stood slowly, his eyes remaining on you as he dragged his fingers along the tabletop until he landed at your side.

“If you’d like to experience mental solitude again, then I’ll only ask for one, small thing from you.”

You certainly felt a touch drowsier than before, your limbs a little more numb and tingly, like they had fallen asleep on you in a too-short duration. You turned your head to look up at him, and even at a neutral pace, the motion made you nauseous. You let out a soft groan of displeasure, closing your eyes and moving to drop your head down. Raphael caught your chin and forced your eyes to remain on him, his voice barely above a whisper as he proposed: 

“Solitude, for a kiss.”

“The least isolating ask,” you muttered bitterly, eyelids heavy as the sight of him became a degree blurrier than what you knew as typical. Yet you could still make out his smirk, and he leaned closer.

“But not a very weighted one. Don’t you miss being able to think without the added badgering of the Emperor’s two cents?” 

Truthfully, you did, if this last-resort decision wasn’t enough of an indicator. A kiss also wasn’t a huge deal, but Raphael was the cambion equivalent to the poison coursing through your veins. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, but you also weren’t in much of a position to deny him. Would you even be able to enjoy the seclusion if this didn’t wear off after he did this favour?

“That’s really all you want?”

“It is. Perhaps if you wished for something more permanent it would be a different story, but alas. It doesn’t need to be written contractually either, nothing so serious.”

“Fine, then.” 

You chose to take the initiative, the leap of faith, pressing your weight into the armrests of the chair so you could stand up and lean in. Your resistance was, helplessly, nonexistent when Raphael pushed you back down; the side effect of his poison making it too easy.

He grabbed your jaw, fingers firm but the motion gentle as he turned your face towards his. Your eyes were already half-closed, but you didn’t miss the intensity on his features. He hovered over you, his mere presence so imposing as he kept you right where he wanted; under his thumb. He moved closer until his cupid’s bow brushed over yours, ever-so-tender, so close yet so far. Your heart nearly skipped a beat once he tilted his head a little further, his lips parting in the slightest as they touched yours, but it wasn’t yet a kiss. Yes, you had expected him to draw this out considering the circumstances of the required affection pertaining to a deal, but what you hadn’t expected was your subsequent anticipation and eventual impatience. 

“Just do it–” you managed to murmur out against his mouth, some natural venom lacing the words without the help of the poison. You were surprised that he closed the gap properly right after by pulling your head up to him, his fingertips pressing deeper into your cheeks as he did, fingernails scraping the thin skin. 

He kissed you hard but without much aggression. You were taken aback by his normalcy, but it appeared that he was just getting started, as he soon used the leverage of his hand on your face to bring you to your feet. You winced, the motion pulled at your neck, but you weren’t given time to dwell on it when he jerked you to the table and tore his lips from yours. 

“Not going to put up a fight? How unlike you” he smirked. You could only glare at him because if he wasn’t sharp enough to nullify any resistance efforts, you both knew who would be pinned down right now. He chuckled once, appraisingly, before pushing his body into you again, his lips finding your neck instead. 

He started with nipping at the skin, then tasting it with a languid lick that made you squirm, and moving to hold your hands down against the table–as if you’d be able to move them on your own anyway. 

“More than a kiss–” you managed to state, your voice containing a hint of matter-of-factness, but was a little raspier as his closeness certainly affected your fortitude. 

“You knew better” was all he had to respond with, the words muffled as they were kissed into the horripilation on your skin. He remained content here for a while, bringing a finger up to your jaw to turn your head in the opposite direction of where he had already ridden your skin with his lips and hot saliva; making you shiver when the wetness caught the air and consequently cooled, regardless of how hot it was in the hells and logically shouldn’t have been possible. 

You were equivalent to a ragdoll by now, simply letting it happen when he grabbed your arms and flipped you around, your loose-limbed body immediately tipping over so your front was flat against the table; your hips perfectly positioned for your ass to press into his hips. He laughed and didn’t even try to create space, pressing himself into you so you could feel how hard he was, and it made you grimace at the realization of just how far this was going to go.

“You’re the only person worth this,” he breathed, his fingers snaking up to wrap around the column of your neck and force your head up. “The only one who deserves to experience this privilege.”

Unable to suppress your snicker when he said that, you almost whined aloud when his fingers tightened in response, and began rutting his hips into you steadily but with enough force to shift your body against the tabletop each time, your shirt getting caught up in the tablecloth and pushing it up so the cool surface touching your heated flesh made you tremble. The strong scents of all the lavish foods surrounding your immediate proximity almost drowned out Raphael’s scent, but it wasn’t enough, especially not as he leaned down so his front was against you completely, his face next to yours. 

“So amusing, is it?” he rumbled, subtly bringing his free hand up the side of your limp thigh, finding your hip, and reaching to tug at your panties. You couldn’t even feel shock anymore, simply letting out a strained exhale the material shifted when he slid it down your skin; off. “We’ll see for how much longer you feel that way.”

How much had you missed within those few seconds, to be surprised when he was already playing with his cock against your entrance? You felt a lot hotter then, your skin crawling with pleasure-induced chills as he moved his tip slowly, heavily up and down, prodding so slightly into your warmth and making your muscles tense each time he slid it away and down to your clit. He never lingered against one spot or the other long enough for any long-term sensations to last, and you couldn’t stop yourself from releasing a disgruntled groan. His chuckle reverberated through you, making your breaths shake as they became increasingly rapid. 

“I wonder if any of your devotees across the realms know that you can be reduced to this–if they think about it,” he pressed the tip of his cock into you now, making your hastened breaths hitch, your lungs burn, “if they imagine you beneath them, or maybe even above them–but you only deserve to be here,” he pushed his hips forward and slid in deeper, with ease, the motion so precise it made your thighs twitch, “beneath me.”

He set a slower rhythm to start, but the way that his movements bumped you further into the table each time made it so that you could feel all of him so perfectly. You felt so open, so exposed–

“Y-You seriously want to do this right here?” you whispered, only because your voice was so strained under his palm, and his cheek went taut in a grin next to you.

“My bed is still busy being warmed, this will do for now. You deserve better than mediocre; the real thing, not my copy. Feel fortunate” he sighed, pressing deeply into you for a moment and staying there, enjoying you, nearly pushing into your cervix–distracting you from the tongue-in-cheek response you wished to give to his words. You instinctively squirmed away, the intensity of it being too much too quickly with how teasingly he had been going thus far. But he wasn’t having any of your resistance despite how it was impulsive and not of your volition; pushing his body down heavier upon yours until you were trapped entirely, forced to take what he gave. Then he resumed movement, and he was moving faster now. 

You fisted the tablecloth before you with the weakest grip; the strongest you could muster, physically fighting every part of yourself so as to not give into him too quickly by carelessly moaning out and letting him know that he was actually making you feel something good. It didn’t matter though. Hoarse, uncontrollable whines vibrated in your throat, locked behind your canines as they sunk into your bottom lip in a further attempt at deceiving him. You were shocked that somehow, throughout the numbness in the rest of your body, each stroke and deep tingle of pleasure could be felt in its most intense form. You continued to amuse him, making him laugh as if this were something wholesome and wholly reciprocated. 

“What do you hear?” he whispered to you, the closeness and low volume of his voice making you writhe, igniting prickles of delight inside of you, making your pussy squeeze around him and pull him in deeper; even shocking yourself as your jaw dropped open from the sensation. All that you could audibly make out were your breaths and his, accompanied by the slick sound of his cock pistoning in and out of you with ease by how wet he made you in such a short time. 

“Just you–” you lied, “–mumbling in my fucking ear,” you tried to chuckle, but when the hand that wasn’t on your neck squeezed your hip tightly enough for you to actually feel it amidst all of the numbness, you gasped quietly, the dry laugh devolving into a whimper. 

“You shouldn’t hear anything,” he said slowly, but in a tone that was maybe one pitch higher than normal, like he was concluding another one of his awful riddles. You’d have taken time to cringe if he hadn’t grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked you up at the same time that he moved, pulling you flush against him and continuing to fuck you like you were nothing more than a toy fulfilling its purpose. 

He favoured intensity over speed, ensuring that you couldn’t escape him as his cock never fully left your sex; only sliding back to quickly grind deeply inside once more, making you see stars each time–you didn’t care about whatever else he had to mumble to you now, all you cared about was engrossing yourself in the feeling of him. It made your stomach churn deliciously too, and that familiar warmth of finality was beginning to stir within as he bit down on your neck, sliding his fingers out of the way so he could hold you still by a shoulder. If your body wasn’t essentially dead you’d have regretfully reached back to hold onto him for support, grasping at the material of his intricately designed garments which would probably irritate him; perhaps your situational debilitation was for the better. 

“You’re not about to come for me, are you? Tut tut” he purred, and you couldn’t discern whether the way your eyes rolled was from annoyance or pleasure. Despite the degradation he didn’t relent, encouraging you above all else. His body encapsulated yours as he held you how he liked, keeping your back arched just slightly enough for your hips to perch nicely off of him as he pounded into you; had you seeing stars. “Don’t keep me waiting, then~”

When a sneaky hand left your shoulder and made its way to your front, pinching your clit, you came undone with a sharp whine; you could barely feel the way your thighs clenched, tightening alongside your pussy as you ground back into him to experience the sensation in its fullest, whimpering his name so weakly as your head lulled back to rest against his chest. You hardly caught the sight of him smirking down at you, so self-satisfied as his hand in your hair tightened, and only a smidge of embarrassment crept into your overall feelings of elation because you knew that he had every reason to feel that way. 

Soon enough the waves of bliss calmed, to your dismay, and Raphael pulled out of you with a soft groan, releasing your body carelessly and stepping back out of your sight, making you rush to reach out and have your palms land against the table rather than your face. 

As you turned around slowly and panted to catch your breath, you watched while he adjusted what minimal undressing he’d partaken in, and only then did you notice the feeling of something wet and thick sliding down the inside of your thigh. You looked down, your eyes widening a bit as you rushed to pull your panties back up to be rid of the sight of it; when did he cum?? You also wondered about how much control he must’ve had over the poison as you could feel the toxins wearing off now that it was all over; the ability to perceive and to touch returning to your body again, albeit weakly. 

“Good, don’t let my gift go to waste. So intuitive.”

You shuddered in disgust and swallowed the lump in your throat, ignoring his stupid, contented face and even happier statement. Now that you were approaching a state where you held a semblance of control again, you cleared your throat and redressed fully, smoothing over your clothes and standing taller after giving a quick shake of your head. 

“Okay–you got what you wanted, give me my end of the deal now.”

Raphael grinned, his brows lifting in feigned surprise.

“Oh, darling, that was it. Couldn’t you tell? Surely you didn’t want your dearest Emperor to know about our fornication?”

You stood there, stunned, slowly but surely feeling hot rage seep into your bones. No fucking way was he being serious.

“Bullshit.”

He laughed at you in a falsely taken-aback way, even raising a ridiculous hand to his chest.

“That’s no way for a lady such as yourself to speak–you chose to jest when I asked what you could hear, that was your chance to tune in and tell. Regardless, we both fulfilled our ends of the bargain.”

“Oh that’s rich,” you started, not knowing what to do with your hands as they fidgeted at your sides, itching to reach up to him and–

“If you wish to experience this again, you know where to find me. Hopefully next time you’ll have come to a decision about the crown, too.” he chuckled in a muted way, to himself, like he was considering some inside joke that only he was part of, not you. Perhaps you were the joke to him, after doing something like this; surrendering to him. The thought made your face twist in anger and you began to approach him, your arms raising.

You only caught the split-second motion of his hand reaching out, and then… nothing. Moments of black, of unconsciousness… and then you were standing outside the den again. You lurched for the doorknob, tugging at it to no avail for the first time ever. After cursing aloud you hit the wood with your fists, letting out a long, deep sigh, shutting your eyes as you realized what a mistake this was to begin with. 

You turned shamefully after a few more seconds of basking in exhaustion, your feet heavy and still feeling abnormal to use after so much time spent being dead weight. You trudged along to the exit of the brothel, cloakless, having left it in Raphael’s room and now being forced to endure the rain that had started. At least it was still dark outside, and you could return to camp innocently beneath the moonlight; be unheard beyond the pattering of the condensation while everyone else rested, acting as though nothing had happened at all, that you’d been there all night. 

You kept your head down, blinking away the raindrops that slid from your hair and into your eyes. Only once you were alone, past the business outside of the Caress, that familiar bustling moved from the ambiance of the bordello to the innards of your brain, and a question was posed by the voice that’d been with you since the beginning of this life you had grown accustomed to:

“Where were you just now?”

© meyousing 2024. do not share/export my work onto any other platforms. do not translate my work.

[avonne-writes]

omega gale headcanons u say?? 🫣🫣🫣

😄😄 Yesss, let’s discuss some omega Gale. Specifically, buff omega Gale 😍 I have a WIP with canonverse omega Gale (a snippet was posted already), but these are modern AUs:

1. Buff omega Gale x twink alpha John behind bars

This is directly inspired by this set of photos. I've been brainstorming with the lovely @stereobone about this idea 🩷

Gale was in pre-heat when he ended up taken by the police with an alpha's blood on him. He’s thrown into a holding cell at the station where the sole other person is some kid alpha who got caught for pickpocketing or something.

Gale didn’t tell the police that his heat was imminent because he already has heat paranoia, he’s scared of getting assaulted. But the police also fucked up because they should have asked and they shouldn't have put him in a cell with an alpha.

Now, Gale could fight Bucky 1:1 but he doesn’t really want to. Bucky's scent is enticing to him, plus the way Bucky starts yapping to him as soon as the bars close is comforting.

Unfortunately, Gale’s hormones also find this situation rather pleasant, and that's how Gale finds himself in heat locked into a cell with an alpha 10 years younger and several pounds lighter than him.

Bucky has never helped an omega through a heat before, but he’s really attracted to Gale and wants to make Gale feel better. He tries to call for the guards but when the man on shift comes over, Gale gives him such a feral, threatening look that the guy just throws his hands up and says that he’s not paid enough to get his face torn off by a blood-covered omega.

In the end, John ends up having rough sex with Gale and knotting him until the heat is over. Naturally, they both consider that only the beginning of something electric between them.

2. Muscular omega Gale x gym rat Bucky

Gale is an omega who's very self-sufficient but lonely. He hasn't had any luck finding a compatible alpha because he doesn’t like being overpowered but he’s not attracted to unassertive alphas either.

He’s also big enough to pass for an alpha himself, which doesn’t help. But he’s stubborn and decides to double down on his workout routines instead of trying to get slimmer.

This is how he meets alpha Bucky, at the gym, while working with dumbbells. Bucky can’t take his eyes off him - he’s attracted to muscular people regardless of gender or a/b/o orientation.

Bucky approaches Gale in a friendly way in the locker room and Gale blasts him with really strong pheromones and an aloof attitude because he’s tired of trying hard and then seeing another alpha turned off by his physicality or personality.

Bucky loves it though, his charming, boyish grin just gets wider, because this kind of playful and more equal dynamic is exactly what he looks for both in his friendships and as a relationship too.

They start out as friends but that turns into something more in a few weeks, and they soon find themselves in Bucky's bed (Gale's not ready to share his own yet).

Gale's pleasantly surprised that Bucky lets him lead during sex and he has an amazing time for the first time in a while. But the true shocker only comes after, when Bucky lazily tells him that he wouldn’t mind trying Gale's cock and bottoming. Gale has never done that before but he wants to after that conversation.

After a relatively long time just getting closer to each other, Gale finally grows to trust Bucky enough to let him join Gale during his heat, and it's the most caring and sensual few days Gale has ever experienced.

[thgfanfictionlibrary]

hiiii! could you recommend me some catching fire AU/married in cf fics? thank you soooooo much <3

Hello Anon!

Below is a list of MarriedinCF!Fics. Hopefully some of these are new to you! I've added this topic to future masterlists and have a few more ready to post! Happy reading!

74th Hunger Games Challenge: We Always Were-Jamie Sommers (ff) Summary: A/U This is based on a challenge in which K&P enter the 74th Games as a couple. This is based on the book, the movie but mostly my imagination. Everyone's POV. Find out how Peeta gets with the Careers. What Gale thinks about K&P's relationship... Sequels are Catching Fire: Rekindling and Mockingjay: Broken Wings A.M.-Lenai17 (ff) Summary: Snow is convinced during the Victory Tour that Peeta and Katniss are genuinely in love. What happens when Snow asks just a few more things of them? AU A Change of Heart-MooseDeEvita (ff) Summary: AU. Instead of the Quarter Quell, Snow forces Katniss to marry Peeta as entertainment for the Capitol. This turns out to be just what Peeta and Katniss needed to finally act on their own feelings for each other. Afterglow-taliiaa (ao3) Summary: Katniss feels she owes Peeta an apology after she realizes how her sudden suggestion of marriage hurt him. Always-dandilyon (ff) Summary: Peeta and Katniss are forced to get married a little earlier than they anticipated. How will it effect the Quarter Quell, and eventually, the rebellion? A Marriage Between Victors-optimus_pam (ao3) or (ff) Summary: What if the Victory Tour ended with a wedding rather than an engagement? A story that explores what would have happened if Peeta and Katniss had been forced to marry. How does this change affect their relationship? District 12? The rebellion? As Real As Real Can Be-albinokittens300 (ao3) Summary: During the nights on the train, Katniss comes to accept how deeply she feels about Peeta. And when they have to be married for the Capitol, she decides to do something for them. Even if it's only them who knows. Barren Prologue-silverdoe91 (ff) Summary: AU of Catching Fire where Katniss & Peeta actually get married and she receives a second visit from President Snow before the Quarter Quell. Behind the Veil, Beneath the Shroud-ghtlovesthg (ao3) Summary: She's an escape artist and he's a master of disguise. Having convinced Snow and Panem during the Victory Tour, the star-crossed lovers find themselves the darlings of the Capitol. And all that entails. AU following the Victory Tour.

Blazing Free-LemonLuvGirl (ao3) Summary: Catching Fire reimagined. Canon Divergent. Katniss Everdeen & her co-victor Peeta Mellark have spent every waking moment since they won the 74th Hunger Games trying to appease President Snow and keep their loved ones safe from the Capitol's wrath. They have played their parts to perfection as star-crossed lovers, and mentors. But when Snow puts a new inconceivably sadistic demand on Peeta and Katniss, they have to decide whether they will continue to used as pieces in the game, or whether to change the rules all together. (Mature themes, mentions of depression, allusions to non-consentual sex, underage drinking and drug use, violence, cursing, Everlark smut, some Everthorne drama, minor character death, etc.)

If anyone knows of a fic like this, please reblog, reply, or send an ask with fics fitting this idea and I’ll add it to future masterlists!

As always, if you have any questions, comments, or suggestions, please feel free to shoot me an ask!

[lagncx]

stink bomb kisses

Astarion x zombie reader

• In the heat of battle astarion brings out a zombie to help his comrades

• you were the zombie brought back ready to defend your new purpose, Astarion!

•After the battle and you surviving Astarion can’t help but adore you. Like a lil puppy that follows him around. It could be because he has someone to control but also just cause why not show off a zombie freind

• you don’t mind, in fact your super smart. Minded you stumble over words or drop your tongue through the rotting holes of your jaw sometimes so you get a bit tongue tied but astarion has been re-educating you on pronunciation with your tongue twister situation.

•Some of you is still there like your brain and your drop dead good looks. Just a bit green and stinky

• sometimes When following Astarion to a camp gathering Gale or well…most of the time it will always be gale who asks “Astarion why are you keeping the damn zombie around?” And Astarion will scoff “Their name is <❤️> and you will respect them. Ain’t that right darling you tell mean ol gale you are a person too. And after looking between the two you let out a little grunt nodding your head to which Astarion crosses his arms and lifts his chin smirking in victory at Gale

• the others were nice though they wanted you to stay far away. The smell was getting pretty~ badddd…but you thought it was fine cause Halsin would make you necklaces. He said “here’s a necklace with mint and eucalyptus. It’ll uh-…give you luck” and you felt so good you gave him a hug. Squeezed so hard the indent of his clothes had been on your soft…decomposing skin for a while

• Astarion though he loves you does not kiss you. He loves his knight so much but not that much. Honestly the relationship between you is seen as a queen and attack dog. But after learning to speak Astarion and you will always have conversations especially when he’s feeling paranoid about Cazador sending people to capture him.

• “awe stink. You have it easy, you’re already dead and well…your you.” He said taking the needle with the black thread and stitching the deep tear in your jaw that was hanging on by a thread your drool dripping out onto the dirt ground under you with soft plops. “I have all these strong freinds but it’s like I’m a huge risk. What if they lose their lives trying to protect me. Maybe I’m putting a burden on everyone.” He chuckled “Weird of me to feel guilty for using people as protection.” He said but looked up at you the way your glossy eyes focused on the night sky above you both. He sighed “Guess I should say I’m sorry for turning you into some zombie lap dog.” He frowned cutting the thread and letting his hands rest in his lap. You looked at him “I’ll always…protect astarion. Alive…or not.” You groaned “Your a good luck star…nobody gets to hurt you.” Astarion just sighs and blows a kiss your way and you do it back the whiff of your rot throwing him off only for a second.

•When astarion falls in love with someone you’re there watching. Seeing the way they kiss and hug….though you only focused on how he was so happy. Finding someone to make him happy and feel safe. More than you ever could. Plus who were you kidding you’re a zombie. It could never work out. You felt your cold still heart break.

• Astarion searched every where for you. He was planning on saying goodbye and getting rid of you. Seeing how slow and unfocused you were during fights recently. He felt you were old and tired to throw in the towel

•Astarion found you just the same when he brought you back. A pile of viscera. Astarion cried for hours he wasn’t able to say goodbye.

•u died of a broken heart.

hiii this is acc brain dump thought of it from something I forgot but yeaaa. Enjoy it I hope you guys mess with my first headcanons post

[katsu28]

KAIT I LOVE U HI can i request Baby’s Breath - a wholesome moment with Hangman please?

hi thank you for requesting ily!! in honor of glen becoming a dog dad here is jake becoming one too i hope you enjoy it <3 (part of me wanted to scrap this and rewrite but we are embracing difference today folks!)

baby's breath: a wholesome moment, jake "hangman" seresin x reader, 1.4k

Growing up on a ranch, Hangman was no stranger to animals of all kinds. He’d always wanted a dog of his own when he finally settled down somewhere, but never got one because of how often he was gone on deployment. After you came into his life and made it clear you were going to stay, he brought up the topic of wanting to adopt a dog together. Thankfully, you wholeheartedly and very excitedly agreed with him. 

It was a win-win for everyone; Hangman would finally get his furry friend, you’d have someone to keep you company while Hangman was away, and the lucky pup would find a forever home with two people ready to spoil the absolute shit out of them. 

That was how you ended up here at Top Pup, Miramar’s biggest animal shelter. 

Hangman had heard his fair share of loud things before—jet engines, gale force winds, Rooster after a few too many beers—but he wasn’t expecting an animal shelter to be this…well, loud. He could hear the barking echoing off the walls of the place as soon as you both stepped inside, rattling and clanking of pens accompanying.

The woman at the front desk brought you out back to a wide pen lined with artificial turf, where dogs of all sizes roamed around interacting with other folks who’d had the same idea as yourselves today. 

As soon as you stepped into the fenced area, you were surrounded by dogs instantly, all of them nosing their way into the fray to get a sniff at a potential forever home. 

“Can we just adopt them all?” You asked, aiming a pout up at Jake as you tried your best to love on every single one of them. 

“I don’t think we have enough space for all of them, darlin’.” He chuckled, kneeling down next to you. A few of them left you to sniff at him and he welcomed them with open arms, giving a few chin scratches and rough pats that they thoroughly enjoyed. “How ‘bout we start with one and see how it goes, then we can talk about adding to the pack.” 

“You’re no fun.” You were only joking and Jake knew that.

He gave a playful shake of his head, grinning. “Bite me.” 

“C’mon girl, sic ‘em!” You joked towards the fluffy black dog currently enjoying your love, nodding in Jake’s direction. Her head tilted, tongue lolling out of her mouth and ears pricking up, but she made no move towards him. “You’re just a big ol’ sweetheart, aren’t you baby? Yes you are, I love you.”

Had you been paying a shred of attention to your boyfriend, you would’ve seen him snapping a quick photo for his not-so-secret album of pictures of you he scrolled through when he missed you whilst he was away. 

Time went by in a blur, and soon you lost track of how many dogs you’d met. They were all adorable and your earlier statement about wanting to adopt them all still stood, but none of them gave you that feeling—that zing that made you say ‘yes, this is the dog for us’. 

That was, until Jake caught your attention from across the yard. He was sitting cross-legged on the grass at the very corner of the yard, beaming at you as he waved you over. 

“Honey, come look at this little guy,” Jake called, excited. You ruffled the fur of the dog you were knelt next to one more time before making your way to where he was, spotting the tiniest pup you’d ever seen curled up on a pile of blankets a few feet away. “The lady said he and his four siblings had just been dropped at the door a few days ago, but the rest of ‘em have already been adopted. Said he’s been huddled away over here pretty much ever since. Didn’t even get a chance to give him a name yet.” 

The pup’s fur was a gorgeous white with cream markings on his face and ears and the same colored patches along his back, big dark eyes peering out at the two of you curiously. Jake put out a hand on the ground in front of you, making little kissy sounds to see if he’d show any interest. When all the puppy did was blink slowly, he kept his hand out, just in case. “He seems shy. I barely noticed him over here.” 

“Hi baby,” You cooed, taking a seat on the ground next to Jake. “You’re just about the cutest thing I’ve ever seen, little dude!” 

It took a little while for the puppy to warm up to the two of you, but you were more than happy to be patient. Eventually, he padded over to Jake on unsteady paws, sniffing at his outstretched hand tentatively. He was barely as long as his forearm. His little nose twitched a few times and then he promptly crawled into Jake’s lap, and you swore you could see your big tough boyfriend melt a little inside. 

You’d always talked about adopting a bigger dog—one Jake could rough-house with in the yard, one that would be able to protect you if need be when Jake wasn’t around. He’d told you about the dogs his family had when he was growing up, cattle herding dogs and big Shepherds that could (and did) knock his younger self to the ground. They were absolute sweethearts when it came to the family, he’d said, but loyal to a fault and wouldn’t hesitate to protect their loved ones. Kind of like Jake. 

Admittedly, you’d originally been leaning towards a larger dog too, but the tiny pup looked right at home comfortably nestled in Jake’s lap. This was the dog for you, and one look at Jake told you he was thinking the exact same thing. Soon enough, the paperwork had been filled out, adoption fee paid, and the pup was yours. 

A trip to the nearest pet store to grab everything you’d need proved too tiring for the little guy, who’d fallen in your arms before you had a chance to let him see what toys made his little ears perk up. Then you were home, settled on the floor of the living room in the pen Jake had set up next to the couch with your new furry little addition curled up on the floor between the two of you. He was awake now but still sleepy, trying to keep his head up to take in his new surroundings but starting to nod off again. 

“What should we name him?” Jake wondered aloud, tilting his head at you as his fingers scratched circles behind the pup’s ears. 

You shrugged, leaning back against the couch. “I dunno, throw some names at me.” 

“Uh…let’s see. How ‘bout Brisket?” 

“We get it, you’re from Texas,” You huffed, rolling your eyes playfully. Jake flicked your knee. You let your gaze fall on your pup, watching his eyes flutter shut the longer you stroked along his back. “You don’t look like a Brisket to me, my love.” 

“I thought I was your love?” 

“I can have two, can’t I?” 

“So long as that one doesn’t get any ideas,” Jake muttered, narrowing his eyes at the pup, who gave a tiny, tired growl. “Whoa, okay! Copy you loud and clear, big guy. No need to get all tough on me.”

“What about Fido?” 

“That’s so unoriginal. What are we, living in the 40’s?” 

“Snowball?” 

Jake fixed you to the spot with an unamused look. “I’m not naming our son Snowball. He’s gotta have a tough name. Something like…Turbo. Or Rambo. Bruiser!” 

You honestly didn’t really register the names he threw out, too focused on the first thing he’d said. “Our son? Does this mean we’re parents?” You asked softly, not able to fight the giddy grin working its way across your face. Jake slid a hand around the back of your neck, bringing you into the sweetest of kisses, fondness dripping like honey. 

“We’re parents, darlin’.” He repeated, smiling against your mouth. You suddenly flashed forward to the next time Jake would say those words, sometime far in the future with a baby of your own (human, not canine). It seemed so off in the distance, but you already knew in your heart it was something you both wanted eventually.

For now, you had all the love in the world to give your brand new fur baby.

“Parents of our yet to be named puppy.” 

“I still think Brisket is a solid option.” 

“We’ll workshop it.”

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[winterwump]

Suggestion: cheon taejin x kwak jihan head cannons (general) please! If u have time ❤

General Headcanons for Taejin & Jihan

Here you gooo!!! I’m so surprised that you came to me with a request, but thank you. I’m dangerously in love with Taejin, so to have someone request something with him in it was fun!! ENJOY🤩

❎Cheon Taejin❎

Like most people, Taejin has his set of guilty pleasures. One that immediately came to me is that he loves trash tv. I mean like the over-produced melodramatic dramas that come on in the dead of night. He LOVES that shit💀💀💀

Tbh, I can make a whole list of hygiene Headcanons for this man just cuz I know he smells good, but Imma keep it short🥴:

Taejin is a FIRM believer in the power that good grooming holds. He takes extra extra care of his hair, using high-quality (and prolly overpriced) products. And he always makes it to his regularly scheduled hair appointments to keep the color on point.

I’m pretty sure he’s a bottle blonde, but he's so proud of that so there’s no point in making jokes about it.

Buuuut if you really wanna get on his nerves, just pretend like you can see his roots. That would drive him up a wall😵

For someone who lives in South Korea, Taejin is not a huge fan of foods that have an ass load of garlic in them. He knows that his diet has an impact on his body odor so he has to limit his garlic intake.

Taejin runs hot (I mean just look at him🥵)

 like he’s just one big space heater so he prefers - no he NEEDS to sleep with a fan going. Like, that bitch is up high and there are fuckin gale force winds in the room and he’s KNOCKED OUT like *watch dis* 

He doesn’t look like it but, Taejin is a light-ass sleeper. If it's not humming from his fan, then it needs to either shut up or go to hell💀

✳️Kwak Jihan✳️

He’s never been to an amusement park EVER. He’s always wanted to go to one, but he either doesn't have time or he just forgets to go.

He’s been to one of those fall-time southern fairs so that’s close enough (lol)

Ya’ll, when I tell you that  Jihan is sick of people asking about his eyes - I mean he is SICK of it.

Like 2 or 3 questions about his eyes are manageable, but after the 3rd time, he’s ready to go like the convo gets cut short.

This man is so unaware of how jarring his accent and dialect are. Like, if it's ever brought up when he’s in Seoul, he’ll be so confused “II’m speaking so normally tho💀” (As a Southerner, this is my life)

Despite what his hair looks like, Jihan doesn’t actually style his hair much if not at all. He has a perfect Shake-N-Go growing from his scalp (Lucky bastard lolol)

Oh and the same thing with his eyebrows (Tbh, none of these men do their eyebrows prolly)

He’s a sucker for soup. Soup of all kinds, but meaty soups with light broths are what does him in for real. Example: Dak Gomtang 

I feel like even though he’s young, Jihan watches the news (and by extension all TV) like an old man. I mean this exact picture *dis* 

I think he gets it from Jibeom, who gets it from Jichang, who prolly got it from Bakgu. They all do it and none of them acknowledge it🤣

Oh and the weather channel is his favorite (cuz I said so lol)

Okayy I hope ya'll like this one. I feel as if I misinterpreted the request so take this for now, and I will rewrite this in a shipping context. BYE!!!

[anavilante]

Alco John

0.7k words, married couple, almost but still not non-con

(I’m starting to go through periods of writing reports again, which take me away from my boys for long time, and I want to cry.😓

This is part of my fic about the alcoholic John, and it's my special child. I’m not a writer and I’m not sure if this story will ever be written the way I see it. Nevertheless, this is a part of it.)

An image for alco John, but it looks like Gale is the one who had one too many beers, not John, lol.🤣

Three weeks apart had been agonizing for John and Gale. The longing had built a tension between them that felt like a tightly coiled spring, ready to snap. When Gale finally returned, John was desperate to feel him close again. But instead of diving into their reunion, they were immediately swept into a party - a whirlwind of noise, laughter, and people. John didn’t want to be there, he wanted Gale, wanted to reclaim every lost moment.

As the night wore on, John watched Gale from across the room. Gale moved with an effortless grace, laughing lightly with their friends, yet there was an edge to his movements. He knew how to tease, how to drive John wild with nothing more than a glance or a gentle brush against his side. And tonight, he was doing just that, each subtle move stirring up the heat that had been building inside John for weeks.

The tension in John was unbearable. He sank another drink down, the alcohol doing little to quell the fire in his veins. With every teasing smile from Gale, the urge to pull him away from the crowd and take him right there swelled within him. As the drinks piled up, he lost some of his inhibitions, but the desperate need only grew sharper.

Finally, they stumbled home together, the weight of unspoken desire pressing between them. But before they could cross the threshold, Gale dashed into the darkness of the trees lining their path.

“Catch me if you can Bucky!” Gale laughed, his voice echoing in the stillness, igniting something primal in John. He followed, adrenaline pumping as he chased him through the night.

When John caught Gale, it was like the world had narrowed to just the two of them. He tackled him down onto the damp ground, breathless and wild, the thrill of the chase adding to his intoxicated state. But the moment was charged with need, the pressure of three weeks of separation pushing him past the point of reason.

“Bucky, wait,” Gale gasped, pushing against his chest, but John was too far gone. The urgency was overwhelming, intoxicating. John needed to claim Gale, needed to feel him beneath him, to erase the distance of their time apart.

But as he tried to push inside, the roughness of the ground pressed into Gale’s skin, stones digging into his back, and he winced. “Bucky, please... Just… give me a second!” Gale pleaded, his voice strained, but John barely heard him over the pounding in his head.

But...

In that alcohol-fueled haze, John felt a flicker of clarity, a reminder that this wasn’t right. Even through the fog of his drunkenness, something whispered that he needed to respect Gale’s boundaries. It was a battle within him—animalistic desire clashing with the voice of reason.

Suddenly, he pulled back, his hands trembling as he let out a shaky breath. The moment shattered, leaving them both panting in the silence of the night.

“I’m sorry,” John muttered, the guilt crashing over him like a wave. “I didn’t mean to… I wasn’t thinking.”

Gale lay there, hurt flickering in his eyes. He felt the weight of John’s actions and his own unintentional teasing, the way he had pushed John to the edge without considering the consequences. It stung - because he had wanted this, too, but not like this, not in a moment where boundaries blurred in the dark.

“Just… let’s go inside,” Gale finally said, his voice quiet. The air between them was heavy with unspoken tension, a fracture forming where once there had been unity.

Days passed, and the memory haunted Gale. It wasn’t just about that night; it was the understanding that something had shifted between them, a crack that they both felt but couldn’t quite address. The guilt lingered in the air, a reminder that both had played a part in this broken moment.

In the quiet of the night, when Gale thought back to that moment in the woods, he felt the ache of longing mixed with the pain of misunderstanding. They had both wanted each other so desperately, yet the line had nearly been crossed in a way that left them both shaken. He hoped they could mend what had been frayed, to find a way back to each other without the weight of regret hanging over them.

[bcolfanfic]

the people want more backstory about rosie adopting naomi!! (when u have time ofc)

rosieeeee. sweet man.

after he comes home from bagram august 2021 he contemplates staying in active duty, and maybe starting the application process and what not to go down the JAG path. but he came home from bagram with a lottt of anexity and the more thought he gives it the more he's just. ready to be done. ready to not worry about if he's gonna get sent into another fire in another war etc etc. goes back to practicing "normal law" mostly property law with an agriculture focus.

the thought of adopting just kinda washes over him out of the blue one day. is talking to a co-worker who adopted as a single parent and can't shake the "huh, what if i did that" feeling. talks himself out of it for a couple weeks, but then it comes back in his head, and he /really/ can't shake it this time.

sees his mom for lunch or something and she can tell he's off. asks if he's alright thinking it's ptsd related and he just blurts out something to the effect of do you think i'd be a good dad?

she pauses for a long moment bc she gen was not expecting that at all. but sees the look on his face and that he's asking genuinely and just. melts. yv rosie in my mind is super close with his mama (dad died when he was young) and seeing her baby so sincerely thinking about something like this just. makes her heart swell up. she tells him she think's he'd be a great dad, and prods a little about why he's asking which is a nice outlet for him to talk things out loud with someone.

the next people he tells that he's considering it are croz (his bff <3) and jeanie and they're both practically jumping through the phone like yes oh my god of course you'd be a good dad are you kidding????

he's a very private person and maybeee tells ev too because he figures croz will anyways. but outside the two of them everyone else doesn't know a thing till he actually has her. (think he similar to the bucks does the waiting child thing. was fully expecting to get an older kiddo since that's typically how that goes. but they call him about a lil 11 month old baby and he says yes before he can think twice about it. the social worker he's been working with nudges him a little about considering changing/choosing her name since she's so young, which he stresses a considerable amount over since he was not expecting to have to worry about that lmao. but he gives it some thought and goes with naomi and it Feels Right.)

croz and jeanie go out to be there and see lil baby naomi right after he gets her. croz texts a pic of rosie with her to the gc and everyone is like ????. they all think they somehow missed/forgot an entire crosby child existing lmao. but then croz is texts something to the effect of new rosenthal just dropped (: and they're like WHAT. lmfao. bucky just about screams and scares the hell out of gale across the house. dramatic ass. (which ironic, when him and gale end up more or less being in the same predicament with their friends finding out about baby micah with how sudden all that is).

goddd rosie is so happy. gets all teary talking to croz about it and croz gets a lil emotional too telling him he knows exactly how he feels. tells him that feeling never really goes away, and that he's already such a good dad which makes hm realllly cry. sweet boy.

naomi is that man's moon and stars. obv all the guys that have kids love their kiddos to death. but esp since it's just the two of them before aiden comes along, they're bonded real tight in a way that just. idk makes her real stiff competition for the most adored little girl on the planet.

[smallcanofworms]

so, I finished my Lae’zel origin run and it was magnificent! however, the way the crew all wound up makes me laugh bc of the dumb choices I made so here they are (spoilers below the cut:)

Shadowheart: moonmote parents & following the Selûne path, also romanced (bc duh, Shadowzel brainrot) and are happily traveling the realm and fighting off 150+ Vlaak-gith (ha) assassins, per conversation with Wyll, her kicking her shoes off and enjoying the river also made my heart happy

Wyll: Blade of Avernus changed to the Ranger class, though we did save the duke and they are both happy & proud of each other

Karlach: became a Mindflayer… which, to be fair, was what I had planned on doing bc I’ve gone the Orpheus-> Mindflayer route and wanted to change it up! on the bright side, she seems happy but sounded different

Halsin: good ole daddy Halsin, now comes with an armored Owlbear bc I misread :)

Astarion: Ascension ending, he was a bit sassy w me but that’s to be expected - I had him ascend for similar reasons re:Karlach

Gale: became the god of ambition bc I couldn’t convince him to leave the crown of Karsus behind :/

Jaheria: ready for a new adventure bc her kids make her sit around

Minsc: up to the same weird shit with Boo per usual, I’m not sure if this changes either way

Minthara: rip, I started the run before the patches where you could recruit her & Halsin

BONUS:

I had a ton of allies in the end, like I clocked over 120 hours in this run alone just to do most of the side quests… BUT I didn’t know you’d get an extra cutscene with Raphael monologuing you about the havoc Gale will wreck as a god and it was a very pleasant surprise lol. I signed his contracted and then ripped it up <3 love u still devil daddy

alsoooo, idk what all changes with the letters/newspapers in the epilogue but there were like three things that stuck out to me:

1) not a goblin, creature crawling around Elfsong is a githyanki child - made me giggle, but also I kept the egg in my inventory and nothing happened w that so idk but yall already know my feelings on Xan (I love him just to be clear)

2) invitation to the House of Grief - we obliterated the Sharrans, save Nocturne ofc, so idk what that’s about or if it’s supposed to be like a rebrand of the building? idk I’m in too deep

3) THE PICTURE OF LAE’ZEL IN THE NEWSPAPER IS SO CUTE

I should be done with playing the game for a while, now having completed two runs… but I probably won’t :)

[auuwmk]

connecting orv to some songs from Belle's (animated musical movie) soundtrack -> this got WAY too long, i underestimated my ability to bullshit

You don't need to watch the movie but I'll probably parallel it sometimes but only vaguely, I'm not the most media literate person on this app so feel free to add anything you want!!

Song: U (the opening theme iirc)

^ kinda obvious, scene in the 1865th round where kimcom tries to get kdj back from the subway

"Though i feel left behind sometimes when you close the door" kdj not letting kimcom break through his "wall", he shut them out and never lets them in even until the very end (literally and metaphorically)

"i wanna know who you are, i wanna know it all" what if this was hsy and kimcom writing on the wall to reach him... *jhy flashbacks*

^ "The moment that life hits you, you can't avoid the issue," context in the movie: suzu (mc) was forced to come out as her true self instead hiding behind her avatar -> kdj revealing who he actually is to yjh by the end of the divorce arc instead of hiding behind the facade of a prophet (this could also be kdj telling kimcom that the world is a novel)

"you're disconnected from the world you thought you were part of" tbh not sure about this one but kdj not seeing himself as a "character" that belongs in twsa therefore disconnected (i don't think he thought he was part of it anyways) -> WAIT could be kdj thinking he knew everything about twsa until he realized he doesn't

^ kdj living his dream of meeting the characters of his favorite novel and being immersed in the world

"When you pass through the veil of fantasy, there's a world with a rhythm for you and me" basically him immersing himself in fiction in general (there's a world with a rhythm for you and me -> twsa being doksoo's world that they built tgt...a story only for them)

^ self explanatory, yoohan and kimcom about kdj (mostly hsy, specifically cuz of the "though we cant waste our time here, it's now or never")

^ also self explanatory, "you're all i need to leap into a perfect sky!" kimcom believing they can be happy again after they get kdj back

^ do i even need to say it

^ "dance away a world you never loved from the start" kdj (oldest dream too) trying to forget his lonely reality using fiction also ride to the future, ready to depart? haha subway reference

^ haha kim dokja

----

Song: Gales of Song

^ "A life without you i cannot accept, i can't tell that lie, i cant let go" this basically applies to everyone in kimcom but i was specifically thinking about post epilogue hsy trying to move on for two years but when she was finally about to move on....

continuation...later in reblogs probably

[euph0riacc]

Was thinking of your fic Say it, (like you'll come back) (which is amazing by the way) and my brain immediately thought of an au. Don’t think that it would be possible location/timeline wise but the angst would be a lot!

Quite soon after Bucky is well again, they march through the town in part 6 that Bucky survived. Either Bucky starts freaking out as they come in, or he doesn’t quite realise until he has a nightmare that night. Maybe he sneaks out after the nightmare and finds the grave, not thinking that it is really the town until he sees the forest and where they were buried (head injury). Don’t know how much the rest of the 100th knows in the fic about what happened but in my head, Bucky has complicated feelings around it, recognising the pain of the town being bombed, but the rest of the 100th is furious and downright ready to do to them what they did to Bucky. Also I can’t remember if in the fic Bucky was separated from Buck initially when they were at the Stalag, (which I’m pretty sure they were in real life) but if he didn’t talk about it after, Crank, Brady and their crews would probably know more about it through Bucky being delirious when he got to the stalag(head injury, infection etc).

Anyway I love this fic and your writing! Always so detailed and well written. Please update soon!

AHHHH Anon I might have to write that…. Now you’ve put that into my brain… I might have to-

I might make it a little bonus one shot.

God could you imagine?

“This is where u was supposed to be buried Buck.” John’s voice is barely a whisper in the midnight air.

The grave is shallowly dug and poorly concealed, the ground rocky and bumpy where the bodies were discarded. Gale thinks he might even see the tip of a boot peeking out of the reclaimed earth.

He tries not to be sick.

“I was supposed to die here.” There’s a faraway look in his eyes that makes Gale want to scream, makes him want to go back to the village and burn it to the ground, raze it to fucking ashes.

He reaches for Bucky’s hand instead, clasps their fingers together and holds on tight, like he might disappear before his very eyes.

Anyway YES I will update soon I promise! Just the epilogue to go now folks. After that we’ve got the BlakelySpiers SEQUEL because my brain is rottingggggg - thank you for the ask!