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mrs-kmikaelson · 1 year ago

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Our Song and Dance¹

Pairing: Finnick Odair x 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: super-duper-duper long, exploitation of minors, forced prostitution, unrequited love, complicated relationships, violence, death, mental health issues, canadian spelling lol, and i make up some names (lmk if i missed smth) Words: 19.7K

Masterlist | Part 2

a/n: i alr have this finished, but it was way too long to post in one part (as you can see) so i split it up into three parts. this one goes from pre-hunger games to right before the quell. had this idea in my head as soon as i finished thg, so i hope u enjoy!

Y/N Y/L/N, victor of the 67th Hunger Games. You were from district 4, one of the youngest victors that not only your district has ever had, but also all of Panem. Of course, you weren’t the youngest; that title belonged to none other than Finnick Odair.

A man you hated with a passion and, frankly, a man who didn’t like you very much either.

You could still remember the night you met.

Snow was droning on and on, giving a speech about something you couldn’t care less about. It was all lies, anyway, and you were only gonna end up in some rich man’s bed tonight, so you’d prefer to go through that interaction as drunk as you could be. With that thought, you downed the rest of your flute.

“Ah, careful, Princess.” Before you even saw the person, you knew it was him. His voice was so easily recognizable, even though you had never met, not even after living in the same district, then the Victors’ Village, or even at these little Capitol parties.

Finnick.

You turned, a faux smile on your face that he fully reciprocated. “Snow wouldn’t want the Capitol’s pride and joy to be under the influence,” he said, teasing but with an undertone that put you off.

You didn’t give a damn what Snow thought, but you weren’t gonna say that, especially not in his own home. Instead, you gave him the smile you gave the rest of Panem and directed the topic of conversation away from the President. “I won my Games, Finnick. Trust me, I’m not a lightweight.” Oh, but you wish you were. You wish you could get so drunk that you’d forget who you were entirely.

A part of you felt bad: twenty-three other people died while you walked out of the arena, and yet you wanted nothing more than for your life to end. A part of you wondered if the great Finnick Odair ever felt this way, either, but it wouldn’t be good small talk to ask.

Finnick’s grin only widened. “Pleasure to meet you, Y/N.”

Your eyes just so imperceptibly narrowed. “Likewise.”

He started to walk away, but he suddenly paused like he forgot something, leaning closer to you. Your breath got caught in your throat when you felt his on your neck. Your eyes locked, and all of a sudden, you wondered how it was possible that you never noticed how beautiful his eyes were.

“May the odds be ever in your favour, darling,” he whispered, and then he walked away without giving you another glance.

That night, Finnick didn’t leave your mind. It wasn’t until there was a resident of the Capitol lying on top of you that you stopped thinking about him. When you were in that position, you stopped thinking about everything, really.

When you walked out of your hotel room, done with your little job, Finnick was brought back to the forefront of your mind as your eyes met his. He looked like he was in the same state as you, also having been leaving a room. He looked surprised to see you.

You stared at him for a moment, but then you let yourself disappear down the hallway before he could say anything.

You knew what that meant; you knew it wasn’t his own room that he was leaving. When you got to your own room, you realized you were much more alike than you thought. You supposed that you couldn’t be surprised; Finnick was desirable, so of course Snow would put him up for sale.

You were in the exact same boat.

Since that night, you saw him in a different light.

You two didn’t talk when you got back home, no, but at your next Capitol event, you decided that you’d refuse to leave him alone, to leave someone who was going through the same thing as you to their own devices. That’s what you told yourself, but deep down, you just didn’t want to suffer in silence, either.

So you went and found him after a night with another Capitol pig. Standing outside, hands in his pockets, he looked so calm, but you saw a storm brewing in his eyes that only few could ever decipher.

You went and stood next to him, even though it was freezing cold out. He glanced over at you, and then his face became surprised, not surprise at you being there, but at you being there with him. Neither of you said anything; it was either that you were too afraid of a jabberjay overhearing or of yourselves. You just stood there in a comfortable silence.

You’d learn that, with Finnick, sometimes doing nothing could mean everything.

The two of you went on to do this every time you were there until, slowly, you graduated from just silence to holding each other. Oh, Finnick Odair was a cocky asshole, but when you were in the Capitol, he wasn’t him and you weren’t you. You were just two people that needed comfort, and that was enough.

You still didn’t talk, though, and when you were at home, you didn’t communicate at all. That was why you were surprised when you answered your door to see him standing on the other side.

Finnick went back to being Finnick, striding into your home without so much as an invitation. This caused you to roll your eyes, but they suddenly widened at his words. “Caesar Flickerman is on TV, saying that we’re dating.”

If you were drinking something, you would’ve spit it out. “What?” An incredulous look was painted onto your face.

Finnick, on the other hand, was a little more stoic, not exactly the charmer he was on television or in Capitol balls, but you could easily guess why—and if you hadn’t, then he was gonna tell you, anyways. “You know what this means.” He looked you in the eye, jaw clenched. “Two of Snow’s best—the Prince and Princess of Panem—dating? It’s the last thing he wants.”

“Finnick-”

“No, he won’t be able to sell us if we’re together, and if he can’t sell us, then he’ll start killing the people we love.” This was the first time either of you were even acknowledging the situation you were in.

You felt stung for some reason, even though you didn’t love Finnick—and he didn’t love you. But, deep down, no matter how much you tried to repress it, you knew there was something between you, so hearing him speak to you this way, like you were just nothing, hurt.

However, you got over your feelings quickly, the same way you always had. You moved your thoughts away from your heart and started thinking with your head. You were quiet for a second until you let out a soft gasp, like a light bulb went off in your head.

This time, you made eye contact with Finnick effortlessly. “What if this is exactly what we need?” You asked, a glint in your eye that he hadn’t seen before.

The blond scoffed. “I don’t see how our families dying is exactly what we need, Y/N.”

“No- no, Finnick, you already said it.” You grabbed onto his shoulders. “The Capitol- hell, everyone already thinks we’re the Prince and Princess of Panem. If we give them what they want, then- then we’d be unstoppable.” You paused to let him weigh in, but he only stared heavily at you, not a trace of what he was thinking on display, so you continued, “Snow and all of those Capitol motherfuckers will eat this shit up, Finnick. And then we’ll be free.”

You were trying not to show any emotion, either, but you couldn’t help it. At the mere thought of freedom, something you never thought was possible, you felt so many different things at once. While you were holding your feelings on your sleeve, Finnick was less easy to read.

But, in seconds, you knew exactly how he felt.

“We will never be free, Y/N.”

He walked out after that, leaving you alone in your living room. He’d never know it, but you stayed in that same spot for three hours, staring at where he once stood. His words had awakened something in you, the part of yourself that’d been thrown into the Hunger Games at only fifteen-years-old.

At the time, you thought you were going to die. You were hopeless, but after you won, you realized there was hope after all. You could still make it. Even as Snow allowed your body to be violated, your mind to deteriorate, you still had hope. But Finnick’s words brought back that frightened little girl in you that you thought died.

You’d later realize just how lucky you were that he buried her again. He came back and told you that he’d do it, and as easily as he brought that little girl back to life, he drowned her.

It wasn’t easy at first, pretending to be in love. You didn’t know the first thing about it, but Finnick helped you as if he’d been doing it all his life.

“C’mon, Y/N, it’s gonna be fine-”

“No, it’s not gonna be fine. Caesar’s gonna call us out immediately- and if he doesn’t, then Snow will-”

“Y/N.” Finnick cut off your nervous ramblings with a stern calling of your name. Even him saying your name was still weird to you. You weren’t used to so much conversation with the victor, but now you were gonna have to pretend to love him. “We’re gonna be fine.”

You weren’t convinced, and he saw that with the twitching of your fingers. You knew Finnick was a great actor, and normally you were, too, but this situation was unlike any other that you’d ever been in. It was foreign territory for you.

“Look,” he grabbed onto your hand, “whenever you get nervous up there, you just hold my hand, alright? You’re not alone in this, okay? I’m right here.”

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say your heart skipped a beat. If you didn’t know any better, you’d even say you felt a spark when his skin met yours.

For a second, you pretended that you weren’t pretending. You pretended that you were holding hands because you were two kids in love, not because you had to survive. You pretended you were never in The Games, that you never killed so ruthlessly just to live without truly living. You pretended that you weren’t you, and Finnick wasn’t Finnick, and you were holding hands just because, not because you were about to go on TV and lie.

But that second ended far too quickly as you pulled your hand out of his grasp, nodding. “Okay,” you took a deep breath, repeating his words to yourself, “we’re gonna be okay.”

“Of course, we are. Now tell me again how we met.”

When the time came for the actual interview, you never let Finnick’s hand go.

The experience became more familiar to you as you went on. It was the same as any other show you’d put on for the Capitol. When you were younger, you dreamed of being a storyteller.

Now, you told stories of a life of yours that’d never existed.

Finnick and you were thrusted into the public eye, reciting the same stories day after day. It almost felt like it was actually real, and sometimes, you wished it was.

He’d look at you with a look of love in his eyes in front of all of the cameras, touching you tenderly. Oh, he was a wonderful liar. He even made you believe it for a second, too. But you knew that no such thing would ever happen.

Finnick Odair would never fall for a girl like you. Even if you were slowly falling for him.

During nights alone, you’d marvel at the turn of events. Finnick was once a man that you hated, but now look at you. You didn’t even know if you were faking it anymore. But it is fake, you’d remind yourself. He doesn’t love you, and you won’t love him.

You weren’t gonna let yourself love him. Truth be told, you were never gonna let yourself love anybody in the first place. Loving someone only made a new liability, a new weakness for the Capitol to exploit, but you could not love Finnick.

You’d been through a lot; your heart had taken many blows and survived, but you knew loving Finnick would only one day break it into a million little pieces. Still, it’s not like he made it easy.

You were lying in your bed- your shared bed with Finnick. Since announcing that you were dating, you moved in with him. You both decided it’d be easier to hide it all that way, easier for the public to believe, too. Sharing a bed was his idea—“just in case,” he’d said.

You wanted to object, but what would you even tell him? That you were afraid of falling in love with him? You would never even put the mere idea into his head. So you went along with it.

It was funny, though: you never went to bed alone, but that’s still how it felt. Being next to him, under the covers… it didn’t make you as warm as you hoped it would.

He didn’t live with anyone else. From what you gathered, Mags, your shared mentor, was his only family. His parents died of sickness early on; Mags took him in and kept him alive, all the way up until he was sent to The Games. Finnick didn’t get sappy with you often, but you knew that he couldn’t lose her.

What he was doing for Snow, he was doing for Mags. You thought Mags was the only person he cared about, but you learned that this wasn’t true. There was one other person who he was close to, who he’d do anything to keep safe. That person was Annie Cresta.

You met her once. She was beautiful and sweet, so you understood immediately why Finnick was in love with her. He never talked to you about her, but you could tell just from how he looked at her that she was the light of his life, even if she herself wasn’t aware of that.

Annie was good, the perfect girl for Finnick. She didn’t come with all the baggage you had, she wasn’t as rude, and she always knew what to say. You would’ve wanted them together, too, if it weren’t for the fact that Finnick was becoming your Annie. He was becoming your person, and so it killed you to know that not only was he in love with another girl, but he was also unhappy.

He’d never be happy with you. While you wished you could spare him the torment and just let him be with her, you had people you cared about, too, and he was now also on that list. So your job was to keep you all alive, not happy.

The door to your bedroom opened, interrupting your train of thought. You faced away from the entrance, but you knew it was Finnick. He had perfected soundless footsteps, even though you weren’t in an arena anymore. But you supposed you were still fighting for your lives, anyway.

He climbed into bed, letting out a big exhale when his back hit the mattress. You didn’t greet him, nor did he greet you, even though he knew you were awake. You’d gone through this whole song and dance already. You had to pretend in front of the cameras; you weren’t gonna do that in here, too.

The two of you were silent. This wasn’t a silence like before when you stood together in the Capitol after those horrible nights. This was a silence that was suffocating.

Things were never the same after you decided to go through with this charade. Maybe you were almost friends before, but now you were allies at most, just there to help the other survive. Oh, you wished you could be friends, but life was never so kind.

As if he could hear you begging for companionship, he whispered, “Y/N?”

Your breath hitched. “Yes?”

There was a beat of silence before his response. You wondered what his face looked like, but you wouldn’t dare turn around. “Can we- can we just be together tonight?”

Out of all the things he could’ve said, that didn’t even make your list. You sharply inhaled. Finnick didn’t sound like Finnick at all. He sounded small, and vulnerable, and scared, all states that he’d never let you see him in. But he was.

“What do you mean?” You didn’t turn around. “We are together.”

So unlike Finnick, he stammered, “No, I mean- can I- I want to hold you.”

If this were the dance you compared it to in your head, then you’d be stumbling over your own feet. He’d never asked about anything like that before. In fact, Finnick never even seemed to like you or this predicament much. Sure, you interested him, and maybe you were friends, but you knew that if he could’ve pick anyone else to dance this dance with, he would’ve.

You wondered what brought him to this point. Maybe it had something to do with Annie, but at that moment, you couldn’t bother thinking about it. He’d never know it, but you could never say no to him.

So you turned around and let him wrap his arm around you. But little did he know, you obliged not just to comfort him, but also yourself.

You’d fall asleep in Finnick’s arms every night after that.

You’d always been so independent, so alone, that you forgot what it felt like to lean on someone, even if it was just for a little while in the dead of night. But when Finnick held you, sleep came easier and nightmares came less.

He had no idea that he became your knight in shining armour; he never meant to, but he did. Soon after you started “dating,” Snow left you alone. You still attended Capitol parties, still mentored kids every year, but you no longer found yourself in bed with members of Snow’s cabinet, and neither did Finnick.

It was easier once it stopped, but you still had to grapple with the pain of what had already happened to you; all of this didn’t even take into account The Games. Sure, you were done, but you still had to come back once a year and prepare a kid to kill or be killed. Nothing dredged up old memories like that did.

Doing it with him was what got you through it. When you lost a kid, Finnick was there to hold you and reassure you and himself that it wasn’t your fault, that you couldn’t have done much more to stop it. At times like those especially, you had to reel yourself in and remind yourself that, yes, he cared for you, but he wasn’t in love with you.

There were times that every bone in your body told you the exact opposite, that Finnick’s actions told you the exact opposite. Sometimes, he’d kiss you for the cameras and made you fall for it, too.

God, you were a team, such a great team. Would it be so horrible of you to assume you could be more?

You’d later realize that, yes, it was.

Because at the reaping for the 70th Hunger Games, Annie Cresta’s name was called and your little fantasy of a relationship with Finnick was shattered to pieces.

His usually calm demeanour was broken as he ran toward her as soon as you both got on the train, engulfing her in a hug and soothing her while she sobbed. You just watched from the sidelines, a frown on your face. You wished you were frowning because your dear friend Annie was just chosen to be in a fight to the death, but you were frowning because Finnick had never hugged you like that.

There were no cameras here; this wasn’t for show. He never looked at you like that when there weren’t any cameras around.

You felt like you were intruding on a private moment, even though you were just standing there, even though you were supposed to be his girlfriend, not Annie. A girlfriend would’ve probably cleared her throat, interrupted the interaction, but you couldn’t find the courage to do that.

Instead, you waited for the moment to end and walked over to her yourself when Finnick stepped away, giving her a tight hug as if she hadn’t just brought you to the brink of tears. But that didn’t matter. Annie could possibly die, so your little feelings for Finnick were pretty insignificant at the moment.

You tossed those very feelings to the side, directing all your attention to preparing your tribute. Finnick was trying to explain everything, but he was too worried, so you took over for him, pushing forth all your efforts while he focused on the boy that’d been reaped from your district.

You always tried your best with the tributes, always, but this wasn’t just any tribute. This was Annie Cresta, your friend and the love of Finnick’s life. You needed her to make it out of this alive—Finnick wouldn’t survive without her.

You gave her every piece of advice you could think of during that trip, digging through your memory for things you might’ve even forgotten. You wished you could help the boy in the same way, but there could only be one victor in these Games, and it had to be her.

Remember that these are games, Annie. Don’t worry about the killing once you’re in the arena; you need to treat it like a game, like the other tributes are just pieces that need to be knocked off the board, you told her. You hated every word that came out of your mouth, but she needed to hear it. She needed to overcome the shock now so she didn’t get choked up during the actual Games like you did.

When the time finally came for you to send the tributes off into the arena, you hugged yourself, taking deep breaths to try and calm down. You imagined that it was Finnick’s arms that were around you, but you weren’t gonna ask him to comfort you. He was the one that needed comforting, but you knew he wouldn’t accept it, so you didn’t offer.

Instead, you worked your ass off to get Annie sponsors, to get people to like her as if they didn’t already. You didn’t sleep for days, and neither did Finnick until he accidentally fell asleep for a few hours one day.

You both watched as she took the tips you’d given her, using them in her own way. She was small, but she was smart and she picked up on how to play the game quickly.

Only when the last tribute was dead did a sigh of relief finally leave you. Your shoulders slumped as you sat in front of the TV. Finnick’s muttering fell upon deaf ears as static filled your brain. She made it, you thought. She’s okay.

But that didn’t make life any more okay.

After all, nobody ever really won The Games.

��Annie- Annie, it’s alright-”

“No, it’s not!” You heard something break, like it had thrown it to the ground. When you walked further into your house, your guess was proven right. Finnick and Annie stood in your living room, the former worried and the latter frantic, pieces of a broken vase all over the ground.

“Nothing is okay, Finn! Nothing! Do you hear me- nothing is okay!” The redhead was pacing around with your so called boyfriend trying to stop and calm her down. They were both so panicked that neither of them noticed you, and you didn’t announce your presence, either.

You only stood from the side, just like on that Capitol train. The Annie that went into that arena was innocent. She was eighteen, but she was still more of a child than either of you ever got the chance to be. Now that she won, she didn’t look so innocent anymore.

She wore a look that was so familiar to you. She was alive, but Annie had never looked more like a ghost of herself.

“Annie, please-” Finnick’s voice cracked mid-sentence. He kept trying to get close to her, but she moved away every time. The tears in his eyes made yours watery, too. You had never seen him look so broken, not even as you stood in the Capitol together those cold nights after being used.

If you weren’t sure of how much Finnick loved Annie, you were now.

“No, no, nothing is okay!” She screamed, tears streaming down her face. She suddenly stopped, letting out a sob before collapsing onto the ground. Finnick ran to her right away, pulling her close and rocking her as she repeated the same thing over and over.

You hadn’t even noticed you were crying until you felt the tear falling onto your cheek, wiping at it immediately and turning around to walk away as quietly as you possibly could. You weren’t gonna just stand by and do nothing while Annie fell apart and Finnick cut himself trying to put the pieces back together. You couldn’t.

You found yourself in the kitchen, putting a kettle on the stove to distract yourself. Your eyes zeroed in on it as you tried to block out the sound of Annie’s crying, trying not to cry yourself. At one point, you succeeded, because you couldn’t hear anything anymore.

You don’t know how long you stood there, but you were eventually broken out of your trance by a hand reaching out in front of you to turn off the stove, moving the kettle. It was only now that you realized how loudly it was whistling.

You turned to see the hand belonged to Finnick who now poured the hot water into your expensive tea cups. They were a gift given to you by a patron of the Capitol, an old man with kids and a wife. He was somewhat of a regular of yours, and so he gave you that tea set to try and make himself feel better for what he was doing, along with many other gifts.

You never told Finnick any of this. You wondered if he would so readily pull them out if he knew where they came from.

He wordlessly put the tea bags into the cups, sliding one over on the island to where you stood. Then he brought the cup to his lips, taking a sip of the scalding liquid like it was nothing. You ignored your disbelief and the rational part of your brain, picking the cup to do the same thing.

When the tea met your tongue, it burned, even as it went down your throat, but you still went back in for a second sip, anyway. This pain was able to distract you from all the thoughts bouncing around in your head, and so that made it feel like it was worth it. You wondered if this was Finnick’s logic, too.

You didn’t say anything for a long while, didn’t ask about Annie or where she went. You knew he must’ve known that you heard what happened, but he didn’t mention it, either. You assumed that she fell asleep.

You wished you could fall asleep so easily, too.

Your song kept playing as you both danced around the same topics, standing together silently as your world crumbled. You danced, and danced, and danced, until your tea cups were empty, but the song was still playing.

Finnick’s voice cut through the silence of your music effortlessly, even though he was still so quiet.

“Sometimes, I think she would’ve been better off if she died.” You slowly brought your head up to meet his eyes, but they were aimed at the cup in his hand. He looked nothing like the Prince of Panem, the charming man who always had something witty to say. No, he looked beaten down, just as lifeless as Annie. Maybe you looked as lifeless as you felt, too; maybe you were all so unaware of how broken you seemed.

You didn’t know what to say to his confession. So you didn’t say anything at all.

You’d never know where that conversation would’ve went, because in seconds, Finnick collected your cups, put them in the sink, and then he left you standing there.

His words from before echoed through your head. We will never be free, Y/N.

And maybe he was right.

Annie was back home, but she never really came back from that arena—none of you did. Hell, you were thrusted into a life you never wanted, a victor’s life, as soon as you were out. You thanked God that Annie wasn’t gonna have to go through what you did; the way she was spinning out made her undesirable. At least a good thing came out of her losing it.

Oh, you were starting to find a silver-lining with everything. You had to—otherwise, you’d lose it, just like Annie. You had to find some sort of good in this situation because, otherwise, what was the point?

Time supposedly healed all wounds, but you felt like you were still bleeding. You just learned to conceal it better than others.

Before The Games, you had friends. Now you really only talked to Finnick, and you two didn’t talk much, either. Every now and then, you’d see Annie and Mags, but they weren’t your people. And your family… well, how close could you be with them after what happened? You weren’t the same girl your mother raised.

She could barely even look at you anymore.

But you couldn’t think about any of this. If you did, you’d fall apart, and you couldn’t do that. You had a role to play, an image to protect—for your safety, for your family’s safety, for his safety.

You couldn’t afford to break down like that in your living room and throw things. You wanted to, so badly, but you didn’t have that luxury.

So your song kept playing, and you danced along with it.

Finnick’s walls went back up, too. His charisma was like a light bulb that briefly flickered, but it was back now. He was dancing, too. But, without even realizing it, you both held each other tighter at night, as if you were trying not to lose the other to the tornado that was your life.

However, when you woke up, you both pretended the tornado didn’t even exist.

Annie wasn’t one for pretending. Oh, she got wrapped up into the tornado the second she was declared a victor and there was no saving her anymore. Yes, she would’ve been better off dead, maybe you all would’ve been, but if you thought about this for too long, if you let the song stop, then you’d get caught in the cyclone, too.

You pretended for a year, attending Capitol galas with a smile on your face, getting interviewed right next to Finnick with his hand in yours, acting like you were the picture perfect couple. He spoke about you like he knew you like the back of his hand, but truth be told, he didn’t know you at all; he barely ever tried to. You didn’t blame him, though; it was hard to try to talk to someone when the music was so loud.

Then came the 71st Hunger Games, and you were mentors again. Meeting the tributes, it was almost like the music stopped- almost. The girl was quiet but angry, and she reminded you so much of yourself. The boy kept cracking jokes that she didn’t laugh at, jokes that were probably inappropriate for a time like this, but you knew he wasn’t doing it to be an ass. This was his way of coping.

He reminded you of Finnick.

Looking at these kids was like looking into a mirror. On the last day of training, he finally got a reaction out of her, made her smile with a faint blush on her cheeks. Oh, these kids should’ve been laughing together in the diner back home, not on their way to die.

They were too young and too innocent. It makes you wonder if things would’ve been different if you and Finnick had met before The Games. Would that have made soothed the heartbreak?

You didn’t know. But when you saw that boy crying as he held her in that arena, blood pouring onto him from her stab-wound, you knew that heartbreak was what he felt.

Too young. They were too young.

The boy died too. He didn’t even put up a fight.

These kids were just kids, and they died young.

Just like you and Finnick did.

You sat in your room at the Capitol, swirling your scotch around in your glass. It was a crystal glass so beautiful you knew it could’ve only been crafted by hand, but you didn’t want to admire it; you wanted to throw it at the wall.

Their names were Delta and Aalto. Aalto was the more talkative one; he said he dreamed of opening his own bakery one day, right in the middle of the district with food that everyone could afford and enjoy.

He’d never get to do that now.

And Delta- she didn’t know what she wanted out of life yet. She never got the chance to figure it out.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair at all.

The door to the room opened, making you look up from the liquor in your hand to see Finnick walking into the room. He looked defeated. Of course, he was better at hiding it than you were, but you knew how to read him better now, after all these years.

The bed dipped as he sat down next to you. You held your glass out, almost like a peace offering, and he took it without much thought, downing it in one go.

You sat there together the same way you had many times before, not saying a word. But this time felt different. It felt like there was something you were supposed to say. So you turned to look at Finnick, trying to see if he felt the same weight, only to see that he was already looking at you.

You could tell just by his eyes that he felt it, too. He opened his mouth, then closed it like he’d lost his train of thought. When you met him, you never thought you’d see the day when Finnick was speechless.

Look at how wrong you were.

You opened your mouth after a few seconds, wanting to articulate your feelings in some way, but Finnick’s lips slammed against yours before you get anything out. Without thinking, you kissed back; it felt like second-nature to you.

This wasn’t the first time you’d kissed, but he had never kissed you like this, so passionately, not a camera in sight. He was kissing you like you were air and he’d been holding his breath for so long, like you were the treasure he’d been searching for and he didn’t want to let go.

It felt like nothing you’d ever experienced.

When you eventually pulled away for air and opened your eyes, you were brought back to the real world. There was something you were supposed to say. But you quickly disregarded it, pulling him back in for another kiss before he could notice the way you were looking at him.

Yes, there was something you were supposed to say. But you couldn’t put it into words.

So you hoped that this kiss said everything that you couldn’t.

You were both grieving, and you were both there. And you knew that Finnick didn’t like you like that, so you weren’t gonna get your hopes up. This meant nothing, even if it felt like everything for you when it was happening.

He was the only person you’d ever done anything like this with before. You did things with those people Snow set you up with, but that didn’t count. You were doing this because you wanted to. You didn’t know if this was his first time or not, but you weren’t gonna ask. You did everything but talk for the rest of the night.

When you woke up, it was still dark out and Finnick was still asleep. You stared at him for a few seconds, his fluffy blond hair that you messed up, his swollen lips. He looked so peaceful like this; you couldn’t bear to wake him up and ruin that, bring him back to this nightmare.

So you got up as quietly as you could, wrapping yourself in a robe and closing the door to the bedroom, walking into the living room. The rooms the Capitol provided the victors were beautiful, but never beautiful enough to make you forget about the ugly reason that you were here.

You sat on the couch, exhaling and leaning back. You were gonna sit there in silence, but your song kept playing, and the record was skipping, and you were starting to get a headache, so you turned on the TV.

Without having to change the channel at all, you were immediately met with the news, Caesar Flickerman’s face on the flat screen. It wasn’t long before you realized why he was so excited: the Hunger Games were over. Someone won.

Caesar’s attitude made your mood go sour. He was behaving like twenty-three children weren’t just killed. It didn’t matter if they died of starvation, dehydration, an animal, or actually another tribute—it was all murder, and the Capitol was the perpetrator. It disgusted you that there were people who found enjoyment in watching these Games, Caesar Flickerman included. They’d pretend to be sympathetic, but at the end of the day, you were all just circus animals to them.

The victor’s face came onto the TV, and you immediately recognized her from the rankings. Johanna Mason. Caesar kept talking, explaining how Johanna had managed to cause so many people to be enamoured of her, and you suddenly felt sick.

Snow was gonna jump at this opportunity. He was gonna use her, too.

You turned off the TV, going back to your room and getting back into bed like you’d never left. Your song came back on, and you went back to preferring to listen to it instead of your own thoughts. You weren’t gonna think about Johanna much longer; there wasn’t any point.

There was nothing you could do.

The next time you woke up and it was actually morning, you were surprised to see that Finnick was still there. While you were sleeping, he managed to snake his arms around you.

You didn’t get up, even though there were Capitol duties to attend to.

You stayed in bed and pretended that you were a normal couple, that maybe Finnick actually felt something for you, that you weren’t in the Capitol right now, that the world wasn’t so fucked up, that you weren’t so fucked up. But you didn’t pretend for long, eventually getting up and facing the world that you didn’t want to be apart of but had been sucked into.

He didn’t tell you this, but he was pretending, too.

You both went to the gatherings you had to go to, talked to the people you had to talk to, kept smiles on your faces, and shook Snow’s hand, even though it made you want to puke. You endured it all—you both did. The Prince and Princess of Panem…

You realized it was true what they said, heavy is the head that wears the crown. This figurative crown was weighing you down; you wondered if it’d be so coveted if people got the chance to feel how you felt.

Then you went back home, even if it didn’t really feel like a home to you. It was still all you had. But Finnick kept surprising you.

Your dance suddenly changed. The song was still playing, but the dance was different, almost like that night you’d spent together had actually meant something.

You started having dinner together every night. Before, you often forgot to eat, but now how could you? You were beginning to look forward to your daily dinners; there wasn’t much more to look forward to in the life you led.

He made it hard for you not to fall even more in love with him.

You two still didn’t talk during dinner, but it almost did feel normal, like you were a family- like you could be a family.

And then the dance changed again, and that dream felt even more real.

You pulled your chair out at your dinner table, sitting down across from Finnick. You were both dressed “down” in more comfortable clothes, but you knew there was some people in the district that still couldn’t afford them. That bothered you, but when you had dinner, most of your worries were pushed to the back of your mind.

When you two had dinner, you just enjoyed the dance.

You were a few minutes into dinner when you noticed that Finnick wasn’t eating but he was staring at you. He hadn’t stared at you like that since when you first met, so curiously, like you were a secret he wanted to be let in on.

You couldn’t ignore his stare, even if you tried. However, you tried to act nonchalant. “Is there something you want to say?” You quizzed, twirling another bite of pasta like you were unaffected by his gaze.

Finnick responded in the same beat, so much like the Finnick that was charismatic and lively, not the quiet one you normally lived with. “Something I want to ask you, actually.”

“Oh,” you said, immediately kicking yourself at how stupid you sounded. “Well, ask away.” He didn’t need to be told twice.

“What’s your favourite colour?”

You were caught off guard by his question, blinking like you were trying to figure out if you just imagined him saying him that or if he really did. He blinked back at you but never faltered.

“What?”

He repeated himself, slower this time. “What is your favourite colour?” You blinked again when you realized he was being totally serious. “You know, colours, like a rainbow-”

“I know what colours are, Finnick.”

“Ohhhh.” His eyes got big as if he thought you actually didn’t know what a rainbow was. “Sorry, you were just looking at me like I had said the most absurd thing you’ve ever heard. So what’s your favourite colour?”

You couldn’t stop the corners of your lips going up as his grin just got wider. God, you hadn’t seen him smile like that in so long. It actually looked real.

You thought about it for a second, looking right into his eyes when you came up with an answer. “It’s blue, not really dark or light either. Sort of green- it’s close to grey, too.”

He looked at you for a few seconds before blurting, “Y/N, that sounds like the least vibrant shade of blue I’ve ever heard of.”

You laughed. “It’s vibrant to me!” He laughed, too, shaking his head like you were crazy. That shade of blue that you described was more vibrant than any other blue you’d ever seen. You could never tired of looking at it whenever you looked into Finnick’s eyes.

When the laughter died down, you asked him the same question. “Okay, now what’s your favourite colour?”

He shrugged. “Don’t have one.”

You scoffed, “Oh, come. on. You have to have a favourite colour; you can’t be that boring.”

“That boring? I’m not boring at all,” he argued, a look of faux offence on his face.

You snorted. “I beg to differ.”

“I can make you beg a lot more if you don’t take that back.” Your eyes immediately went wide and, against your will, a faint redness spread on your cheeks.

“What?”

“You heard me,” he said, crossing his arms. He looked pleased at the reaction he got out of you. “Take it back.”

You scoffed again, but you weren’t sure if it was because of your stubbornness or because you wanted to see how far you could push him. “I’m not taking anything back.”

He just stared at you for a few seconds before flashing that famous smirk of his, dimples appearing in his cheeks. “Really?”

You crossed your arms, too, nodding. “Mhm.”

He chuckled. “We’ll see if you still feel that way in the morning.”

And then he spent the rest of the night showing you just how boring he wasn’t.

The day after, you didn’t wake up dejected but instead with a smile on your face. You didn’t get out of bed at all, staying in Finnick’s arms. You felt giddy, like a school girl. There were no thoughts of his lack of feelings for you, Annie, or The Games. You just laid there and enjoyed the moment.

It didn’t even feel like you were pretending.

When Finnick woke up, you did it all over again. You ended up staying in bed all day together, cancelling your plans.

And when the time came to get out of bed, to go back to the real world, the music didn’t go back to normal. It was more upbeat now. You kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the beat to drop, but it didn’t.

Finnick didn’t pretend like you two sleeping together never happened. In fact, you two kept doing it almost every day. You actually had conversations during dinner. You learned basic things about him that you hadn’t known in all of the time you were living together.

He made you laugh often. You stopped crying so much.

Is this what happiness feels like? you wondered. If it was, you never wanted anything different. Whatever Finnick felt for you, it didn’t matter. As long as he kept making you happy, it didn’t matter.

You were so in love with him that it stopped mattering if he reciprocated your feelings. You didn’t want anything to ruin this, what you had. Your relationship was the most special thing you’d ever had, even if you didn’t know what to call it, so you were gonna do your damn best to hold onto it.

The things he’d say in front of the cameras felt real, then the things he did when you were alone made you believe it even more. Whatever this was between you, it felt real.

So real.

You were stirring something on the stove when two arms snaked around your waist, tickling you, making a squeal fly from your lips. “Finnick!” You screeched, trying to suppress your giggles as you turned around. The culprit (who was shirtless) didn’t look guilty at all, a shit-eating grin on his face. You shoved his shoulder. “I am trying to cook us breakfast.”

He snorted. “Yeah, trying and failing.” You shoved him again, causing him to laugh. “I’m sorry, you can’t cook!”

You crossed your arms and narrowed your eyes. “I’ll have you know, I can cook very well, actually.”

He wrapped his arms around you again. “You know, you’re cute when you pout.”

“I’m not pouting!” You exclaimed, but a blush still arose on your cheeks that Finnick noticed right away. It was almost like he was always watching for those types of things, always trying to say or do something to get you red.

“You’re even cuter when you blush.”

Your blush worsened, but you weren’t gonna give him the satisfaction of your defeat. “I’m not blushing. We’re in a kitchen, and it’s hot.”

He pulled you closer to him, grin widening. “Don’t lie to yourself, sweetheart, about your blushing or your cooking.” He glanced behind you. “Oh, look, burnt food.”

Your eyes went wide, immediately turning around. You groaned when you saw the brown eggs and the trail of smoke coming from them. “It’s all your fault, Finn, you distracted me.”

He gave your head a kiss, rubbing his hands up and down your arms. “Sure, darling, whatever you say.” Luckily, you were turned away from him so he couldn’t see how your cheeks reddened. You still weren’t used to the pet names, even though Finnick seemed to adore them. “Let’s leave the cooking to me from now on.”

You lightly scoffed, “Whatever.” He kissed your cheek before you started walking away, planning to sit on the couch while you waited for him to cook the food. You didn’t have to look at him to know he was probably smug.

“Who messes up eggs?” he muttered under his breath once you were a few feet away.

“I heard that, Finnick!” you shouted, but he only let out a loud laugh.

You shook your head at him, plopping down onto the couch in the adjoining living room and turning the TV on, but it was really just background noise. You found it much more enticing to watch Finnick cook. The way he moved so swiftly looked effortless; he knew what he was doing, that was sure. And it didn’t help that he was shirtless.

You discreetly stared at him for a while—or, you thought you were being discreet. Without looking up from what he was doing, he teased, “You know that I can feel you ogling at me, right?”

You went red as a tomato. “Shut up, Finnick!” you shrieked, turning back to the TV as if you even knew what was playing. His laugh boomed and you turned up the volume to tune it out, only causing him to laugh even louder.

Even though you were thoroughly embarrassed that he’d caught you staring at him, a smile still found its way onto your face. Around Finnick, it was hard not find a reason to smile.

You’d be content if you didn’t do anything for the rest of your life but wake up to him every day.

You spent many more mornings like that together, and lunches, and dinners, and everything in between. You exchanged jokes and playful banter constantly. Finnick really did make your cheeks hurt.

But he knew when to be serious.

There were still nights when you’d wake up from nightmares, and he’d comfort you back to sleep every time. When you caught him in a nightmare, you’d try your best to repay the favour, even though that didn’t happen often. He rarely wanted you to see him like that, so he hid his nightmares, but you did everything you could to keep him happy while he was awake to make up for it.

When you went to the Capitol, all of the darkness crept back in, squeezing in through the cracks of the walls that you’d built—for both of you. But you kept each other grounded. You weren’t alone.

Once, he had to talk you back from the edge as you had a panic attack in the bathroom. He locked the door and stayed there with you until you calmed down. You told him that you saw someone you hadn’t seen up close in a while, an old patron, and that just opened the floodgates. You saw his hands ball up into fists; he tried to hide the anger on his face, but you saw it and you understood it.

He was angry at the Capitol, and so were you. He’d been through the same things you had, and that made it so much easier to cope, to have someone that understood. He understood for you and you understood for him, and so when things were bad, they at least became more okay. As long as you were there for each other, things were okay.

Meeting Johanna Mason at a later event nearly brought you right back to the brink. Her family was dead, she’d told you. And you wished you hadn’t understood so fast. You wished that none of you ever had to understand these things, that you could’ve stayed kids for longer before childhood was ripped away from you.

It’s not fair, you cried to Finnick. He killed her family. She said no, and he killed her family.

He let you cry on his shoulder, rubbing his hand up and down your back as he whispered, I know. It’s not fair, I know. But it was the world you lived in, and, unfortunately, neither of you had the power to do anything about it, even though you were the so called Prince and Princess of Panem.

So you did what you could. You were there for Johanna like how you were there for Finnick when you still didn’t know him. Both of you were there for her, teaching her the moves to your dance so she could dance with you while you were all at the Capitol together.

She was brutally honest, maybe even rude to the average onlooker, but it was what The Games did to her. Finnick and you understood that, and that led to you both forming a friendship with her. Coping with other people, people who understood, was the best painkiller that not even money could provide.

The Games were the hardest, but you went through that together, too. You trained those tributes with everything you had. You tried your best, but sometimes, not even that was enough to keep them alive. Finnick and you would grieve together. At times, he was more rational than you, reminding you that it wasn’t your fault, that these were games made to kill.

Whatever you went through, you went through it together. The good days, the bad days, the laughs, the tears—you were together every step of the way.

Things went like this for years. You really were a team, and nothing could convince you otherwise this time. You loved him more and more each day, but you never told him that; you didn’t need to, and you didn’t need him to love you, either. Being there, being together was good enough.

Your song never got old. You were so in sync as you danced. Oh, you never would’ve thought that Finnick Odair of all people would not only make your life bearable, but also joyful.

You were fake boyfriend and girlfriend, and yeah those lines started to blur, but you also became best friends over time.

Finnick and you lied together in bed, the TV going on in the background. Your head was on his chest as he pet your hair. It was your seventh time doing this mentor thing, but it never seemed to get easier.

Your tributes were promising, but they still died early on, even though you both got them as many sponsors as you could. Mentors were usually down in the lobby, talking to sponsors and watching The Games with everyone else, but after your tributes died, there was no point.

So you went upstairs, and you both just lied there. It was one of those times where neither of you had to say anything. You were together, alive together, and that was enough.

Listening to Finnick’s heartbeat could calm you down in any situation. You must’ve been doing something to help him, too, because his heartbeat was steady. You stayed like that for a bit until he moved a bit, murmuring under his breath, “What?”

He sat up, making you sit up, too, while he grabbed the remote, turning the volume up. You glanced at it and the scene immediately caught your attention. You heard the last bits of what the announcer was saying, that a rule about two victors was being annulled. Your brows furrowed; you must not have seen the part where any such thing was declared.

You recognized the tributes who you quickly realized were the last people left standing. They were the kids from district 12, the Girl on Fire and the boy in love with her.

You scoffed. “Of course, they want the star-crossed lovers to battle to the death.” You were about to turn away, refusing to indulge in the Capitol’s bullshit, but Finnick grabbed onto your arm.

“Wait.”

You stopped, turning back. The girl, Katniss, had a bow and arrow in her hands. Peeta was a few steps away from her. They were both staring at each other, Katniss looking like she didn’t know what do, but Peeta looked like he already accepted that he was going to die.

You didn’t want to watch this, watch two people fall apart on television, but for some reason, this had captured Finnick’s attention.

One of us should go home, he said. One of us has to die; they have to have their victor. Katniss was already shaking her head.

No. She dropped her arrow to the ground, walking forward. They don’t.

You tilted your head, but you understood what was happening when she pulled a handful of berries from her pocket. “Holy shit.”

Peeta grabbed her hand, rejecting the idea immediately, but she whispered, Trust me. He must’ve really been in love with her, because he did. She poured some berries into the palm of his hand, making you lean closer.

“You don’t think they’re gonna…” you trailed off, puzzled. There were people that’d killed themselves in past games, but this had never happened. There was always a victor.

Peeta hesitated, but looked sure when he looked back into Katniss’ eyes. Together? he mumbled.

She repeated his words. Together. She looked up for a second, and then you suddenly recognized the look on her face. This was a bluff.

They counted down from three, and just as they were gonna bring the berries to their mouths, the announcer frantically cut in, Stop- stop! He cleared his throat. Ladies and gentlemen, may I present the winners… of the 74th Annual Hunger Games.

Relief flooded into Katniss’ eyes as she embraced Peeta in a hug. Shock flowed through you, and Finnick’s expression was no different.

Once you had processed the information, you couldn’t help the grin that grew on your face, disbelief and pride filling you at the same time. “They just screwed the Capitol.”

You turned to see him smirking. “Hell yeah, they did.”

And this made your Hunger Games experience just a little bit better.

Neither of you were surprised that Seneca Crane was found dead days later. He made a grave mistake, letting two victors win. Snow wouldn’t have that, and you could guess why.

What Katniss and Peeta did was causing chatter, sparking hope. People in district 4 were more hush-hush about it, but outlying districts, like 11, had gone into revolts. The Capitol must’ve been stressed, and knowing that brought you some sick form of comfort.

Katniss and Peeta were spinning their actions, making them out to be this act of love, like they couldn’t bear to live without each other, but you and Finnick saw right through it. After all, if there was anyone who could spot a fake relationship, it was you two.

However, the two love-birds flew from your mind when you got home. You were brought back to your little world, living life alongside Finnick. The urge grew to ask him what you were, if you were still in a fake relationship just like Katniss and Peeta or if this was real, as real as you felt it was, but you didn’t wanna mess up the one good thing you had going.

The truth was, you don’t know how long you would’ve made it without him.

Finnick was your lifeline, and he had no idea.

The next time you were at the Capitol, you were in the Presidential Palace for the so called biggest party of the year. It was always hosted right before the Hunger Games, so being there gave you many things to be anxious about.

But, like always, you concealed it, smiling and shaking hands with the people you came across, even as you were disgusted. Some of these people, the very people who paid for your body at sixteen, were there with their families. You wondered how they could have children and still do what they did.

You were a child, too.

Normally, Finnick would be there to calm you down, but he snuck off somewhere without telling you.

You were wandering around, trying to find him when a head of brown hair streaked with red came into your view. “Hey, Princess.”

A sigh left your lips, both out of relief that you found someone you knew and discontent at the nickname. “Hey, Jo.” You would usually make conversation with her, but you were pretty distracted, glancing around behind her. “Have you seen Finnick anywhere? I’ve been looking for him for a while now.”

When you looked back to her, a look you couldn’t decipher flashed across her face, but it was gone in an instant. “No, can’t say I have.”

For some reason, you got a weird feeling from her. It was almost like she knew something that you didn’t.

“Hey, why don’t we go grab a bite while we wait for him?” She suggested, gesturing to the buffet. “I’m starving.”

You shook your head, dazed. “I’ll catch up with you- I’m just gonna go to the bathroom.”

She perked up. “I’ll go with you.”

You were quick to decline. “No, that’s fine; go eat. I’ll be back in a sec.” She was hesitant for reasons you couldn’t fathom, but she eventually nodded, agreeing to meet you later.

You walked through the halls, passing the bathrooms and not even sparing them a glance. You didn’t really know why you lied about where you were going, but in that moment, it felt like instinct. You trusted Johanna, but you were catching the same weird vibe from countless other people. All you wanted was to find Finnick and have him tell you everything was alright.

You didn’t have to look long before you found him, outside along with many other partygoers. But he wasn’t alone. Standing next to him was a man you’d just recently seen on TV. You just couldn’t remember his name.

You made your way over to them. They cut themselves off as soon as they saw you, not letting you overhear a single detail of whatever they were talking about. You stifled the reappearance of that weird feeling that was starting to feel a lot like suspicion. “Sorry to interrupt, gentlemen.”

Finnick waved you off, “No, it’s fine, sweetheart.” He pulled you into his side, kissing your temple. “This is Plutarch Heavensbee.” A lightbulb went off in your head as you looked to the man.

He was Seneca Crane’s replacement.

What the hell was Finnick doing talking to him?

“It’s an honour and a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Y/L/N,” he greeted, holding his hand out. There was something about him that was throwing you off, not just your revelation of who he was, but you still shook his hand.

“Pleasure’s mine, Mr. Heavensbee,” you replied, smiling your umpteenth fake smile of the night. But you had an inkling that no one in the Capitol was as genuine as they seemed.

Plutarch didn’t try to stay and make small talk like the rest of the people you encountered at the Capitol, bidding you both farewell and wishing you a good night. Something told you his departure had something to do with your arrival.

Once he was out of earshot, you turned in Finnick’s arms. “Was that the new head Gamemaker?” He nodded, but didn’t offer any explanation. You furrowed your brows. “What were you talking about?”

Finnick shrugged nonchalantly, but for some reason, he seemed tense. “He wanted to meet the youngest victor of The Games.”

You found that hard to believe, holding back a scoff. “Well, he didn’t seem too interested in meeting me.”

A smile arose on his face as he wrapped his arms back around your waist. “That is because you, darling, are not the youngest person to ever win.”

This time, you did scoff, but the tense atmosphere dissipated. “You’re a dick.”

“You love me.” Your heart nearly stopped, but you kept your composure. You did love him, more than he’d ever know.

You shook your head, acting unaffected. “C’mon, Johanna’s waiting for us by the buffet.” You tried walking away, but your faux façade of annoyance was broken by Finnick latching onto your hand and walking forward with you, chuckling.

And then the entire matter of everyone’s weird behaviour was pushed to the back of your mind.

Returning home from the Capitol was always peaceful, like a weight being lifted off your shoulders, but this time was unlike any of those other times. When you got home, the so called peace that the Capitol so delicately crafted was ripping at the seams.

The chatter from before, from when Katniss and Peeta defied the Capitol, was louder than ever. They had just gone on their victor’s tour, right before you left for the Presidential Palace, and they had apparently sparked a reaction in just about every district they visited, yours included.

You found out that district 4 had been in a revolt since Everdeen and Mellark came and gave their speech. The people were outraged. The news talked about seafood shortages due to bad weather, but the Capitol just didn’t want to let Panem know what was going on, that people were refusing work, that Peacekeepers were murdering innocent people left and right for the smallest of incidents.

When you were all caught up with what had happened, you were furious, too. You wanted to march out onto the streets and give the Capitol the finger, but Finnick pulled you back.

“What are you gonna do, Y/N?” he questioned, not even giving you the time to answer. “You don’t even know.”

Your voice was vicious as you responded, a tone you’d never given him. You were angry, and you both knew you weren’t thinking clearly; you just didn’t care. “I don’t know right now, but I’m gonna do something, Finnick.” You tried pulling your arm away, but he was much stronger than you.

“I’m not gonna let you go out there and get yourself killed.” You could tell by his demeanour that he was angry, but not for the same reasons that you were.

You shook your head. “You of all people should understand where I’m coming from.”

His eyes went hard. “You must not know me well if you think I’d let my girlfriend kill herself.” That shut you up.

His girlfriend.

He called you his girlfriend.

You got over the shock and, suddenly, you were even more angry than before. While you could pretend all you wanted to that you lived in candy-land, the cruel reality was still there. Finnick didn’t love you. He was only playing with your emotions.

Tears built up in your eyes: sad tears, angry tears—they were everything tears. You felt everything. “I’m your girlfriend now?”

He scoffed, “Oh, come on, Y/N. You can’t be serious right now.”

“I am so serious right now.”

At your deadpan, he finally let go of your arm, running a hand through his hair. A part of you felt bad that he was so stressed, but you were stressed, too. He looked like he was trying to figure out what to say when he looked back up at you. His voice was no longer harsh, but small. “Y/N, please.”

You swallowed.

“I’m just asking you to trust me.” He grabbed onto your hands. “Please just trust me.” He was begging you.

“Trust you to do what?”

“I just need you to trust me, Y/N, please.” He held your hands tighter. “Trust me.”

Oh, it didn’t matter how angry you were, if your thoughts were set in stone. Finnick would still be able to mold you like clay. Every time.

“I trust you.”

There was something different about him, but you were too distracted to try and figure it out.

There were so many things going on.

You were with Annie when it happened. Oh, that must have been some cruel joke from the universe. You were walking through the town square, on your way to Victors’ Village with pastries from the bakery in your hands. You were slowed down by the all of the people congregating together, watching the screen.

President Snow was announcing the third Quarter Quell, and they were eating it up. You weren’t gonna do that, entertain his lunacy. You’d go the Capitol and play your role, but you weren’t gonna watch these broadcasts anymore. You weren’t gonna play along.

Finnick could explain it to you later so you’d be able to prep your tributes. The Quells were always made out to be the hallmark of The Games; they were always harder. You felt for whatever kids would have to go through them.

You felt a lot more once you realized who these tributes were gonna be.

You weren’t listening to what Snow was was saying, but his words cut through any sort of mental block you had. “On this, the third Quarter Quell Games, the male and female tributes are… to be reaped from the existing pool of victors in each district.”

Your stopped walking as if you’d hit a wall, the stuff in your hands falling the ground, but it was almost like you didn’t hear it. You stopped hearing anything, not Snow explaining the condition or everyone’s gasps. Your ears rang. Everything was muffled like you were underwater.

You were done. You were supposed to be done. You went through those Games, you won, and now you were supposed to be done.

He was gonna make you go through it all over again.

You were so shocked that you pinched yourself, like you were a child and this was some nightmare, and even though you didn’t wake up, even though you knew you were awake, you were still caught in a nightmare that you’d have to die to escape from.

Your senses came back to you and you spun around, pulling Annie into a tight hug the second you saw the tears streaming down her face. She muttered the same thing over and over into your shoulder.

“This can’t be happening, this can’t be happening, this can’t be happening.”

She couldn’t go through this again. The Games broke her beyond repair. She couldn’t mentor because of it; she could barely ever attend any of the Capitol parties you and Finnick frequented. She would die in that arena, either mentally or physically.

You couldn’t let that happen.

Your song played on a loop in your mind, making the decision for you. You were reminded that, even though your dance may have changed, Finnick didn’t love you. He loved Annie, and he would be destroyed if she died.

You couldn’t let that happen.

You couldn’t let Mags go back into the arena, either. He needed her. These were the only people he cared about; you couldn’t let them go through this.

Then and there, you decided your fate.

You were gonna be the one to go back into the arena, and no one was gonna stop you.

When you and Annie had made it to your house, ignoring all of the looks of pity thrown your way, Finnick looked just as beaten down as you, but not surprised. You didn’t have time to analyze that.

He hugged Annie first, shooting you an apologetic look, but you didn’t understand what it was for. You knew what Annie meant to him.

You weren’t so deluded that you’d believe you came before her. Besides, she needed to be consoled more than you did. You were calm. Annie was lost right now, but you knew exactly where you were headed.

That night, once Annie left, your clothes came off, and you and Finnick had the softest sex you ever had. It was gentle, and you let yourself feel loved one last time. You let yourself be selfish and have this one thing, just one last time.

You knew that the odds of coming out of that arena were slim, so you kissed Finnick like you were gonna die the very next day. I just might, you thought. And then as you fell asleep in his arms, you pretended that everything was alright. You pretended that your dance wasn’t gonna end so soon, that you weren’t gonna sign your life away when you woke up, that Finnick really loved you, that he loved you just as much as you loved him. You pretended one last time.

The next day, you and all of the other victors walked to the Hall of Justice, escorted by a dozen Peacekeepers. There were so many male tributes. As terrible as it sounded, you were praying that it’d be one of them that was chosen, not Finnick. If he was, then you would throw away any chance you had of winning.

If he went in with you, then he’d be the one walking out.

Cassia Locke stood in the middle of the stage, in between the male and female victors. You found it funny, almost: you were victors, but now the Capitol was gonna rip that refuge away after they’d already taken everything from you.

Cassia was just another mutt in your eyes. She was district 4’s Capitol escort; she was meant to be an advisor, but she didn’t do that well, not for you or the other tributes you mentored. But you supposed you couldn’t be too surprised. Her job was to make spectacles, not survivors.

However, she almost looked human for a moment, glancing at the women sympathetically before she pulled out a folded paper from the bowl. You stood on edge; there were only three of you. Unbeknownst to you, Finnick also stood straighter in trepidation.

She cleared her throat, announcing, “The female tribute for the 75th Annual Hunger Games and third Quarter Quell is… Annie Cresta.”

Annie’s face fell, but you quickly stepped forward. “I volunteer as tribute.”

“Y/N, what are you doing?” Annie whispered, putting a hand on your shoulder, but you brushed her off and ignored her.

Cassia nodded. “Very well, then.” She moved back to the bowl. “Now for the males.”

You glanced over to see that Finnick was already looking at you, an unknown emotion written all over his face, though you realized what it was quickly. Betrayal.

You were confused why. If anything, he should’ve been relieved.

“The male tribute for the 75th Annual Hunger Games will be…” she unfolded the paper, “Finnick Odair.”

Your heart dropped. That wasn’t supposed to happen.

The universe must’ve hated you.

Finnick’s mask was back on. Any trace of emotion on his face was erased and replaced with the cocky, charming façade that he’d perfected. He smirked as if he wasn’t just chosen for the most brutal “game” there ever was, like there was nothing to be worried about.

He was so good at pretending. Maybe even better than you.

You both walked toward the centre of the stage simultaneously, routinely. You’ve danced this dance before.

“Ladies and gentlemen, our tributes for the Hunger Games.”

Right after that, Peacekeepers came from the side, trying to grab at your arms, but you shook them off. “We know where to go,” you said. You don’t know if it was the your tone of voice or the look on your face, but they actually listened.

You were escorted into an inactive chamber, the same one you were brought to for your first Games. Memories flashed through your mind before you shook them away. You couldn’t get PTSD right before you went into this.

Finnick was stoic as he stared you, but before either of you could say anything, Mags and Annie came rushing into the room. Annie took you by surprise, immediately engulfing you tightly.

She was still crying, but manage to blubber out through her tears, “Why- why would you do that?”

You rubbed her back. “Annie-”

“Why would you do that for me? It was supposed to be me. Supposed to be me, supposed to be me.” She kept repeating herself over and over, shaking in your arms.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Finnick and Mags watching you. “It’s gonna be okay, Annie,” you told her, but you knew it was a lie. “I’m gonna be fine.” You weren’t.

As if she knew this, she only cried harder. You didn’t know what else to say, so you just kept rubbing her back, hoping that she’d calm down. Eventually, she stopped shaking, but tears kept flowing from her eyes like a waterfall. She tried to wipe them away, but they just kept coming.

She sniffled, going over to hug Finnick, then hugging you one last time before she left. “Take care of each other- please,” she asked, and you weren’t thinking of doing anything but.

You nodded, assuring her that you would do just that. Mags hugged you, saying the words she couldn’t express through her gaze. You could tell that neither of them wanted to leave, but they had to.

Only one of you was gonna come back, and that was gonna be hard to come to terms with.

They left, and then it was just you and Finnick. The music kept playing, and playing, and playing, and you weren’t sure you could take it anymore. You didn’t want to hear this song ever again if it could be your last time listening.

If you could have it your way, you’d dance together until the end of time. But forever was never promised, not in the world you lived in.

The silence, however, felt like it lasted a forever in the moment, so you broke it. “Can you say something?” Finnick just kept staring at you in a way he had never looked at you before. The music got louder. Tears came to your eyes. “Please.”

Maybe he took pity on you, because he did say something. You just weren’t sure if it was any better than the silence. “Why would you do that?” His voice was cold.

You felt cold.

You swallowed. “Finn-”

“Why would you volunteer?” He stepped closer to you, so much venom seeping through his tone that you thought you were gonna be sick. “Annie was going to go-”

You cut him off, throwing your hands up. “You saw her, Finnick. She’s a mess.”

“She was going to be fine-”

“She can’t go through The Games again!” You shouted, losing it. Why was he berating you as if you didn’t just save the love of his life? “It would kill whatever part of her is left.”

“She would’ve been fine. You would’ve been fine-”

“God, why do you care about what happens to me? Annie’s gonna be okay—you’re gonna be able to come home to her and build the family you’ve always wanted-”

He snapped. “You’re my family!” You recoiled like he just hit you with his words. It was like you’d been doused in cold water. Finnick sighed, running a hand through his hair. There was a beat where neither of you said anything, letting his revelation soak in.

But you didn’t know what that meant.

When he spoke up again, his voice was quieter. He didn’t look like the Finnick that smirked up on that stage; he looked defeated, not triumphant. “You’re my family, Y/N. Don’t you get that?” He looked back up at you. “I could’ve protected Annie in that arena, and you would’ve been safe, here—not there with me.”

You shook your head. “There is no protecting someone in an arena- you and I know that best.” You let a tear fall, smiling sadly. “You’re gonna come home, Finnick-”

“Stop.”

“You’re gonna come home and you’re gonna live a long life with Annie-”

“Stop it.”

“You have people to take care of. I don’t.”

“Y/N, stop it.”

Another tear. “You deserve this-”

“Stop it.” Finnick grabbed onto your shoulders. You didn’t even know he got so close. “I’m not gonna let you die in there. Do you hear me? You’re not dying.”

“Only one of us is coming back, Finn. It’s gonna be you.”

You don’t know if your eyes were just really that blurry or if there were actually tears in his eyes, too. “No, you are coming home-”

“Finni-”

He grabbed you tighter. “We are both coming home.” The dam in your eyes broke, and all of the tears you were trying to hold came flooding down your cheeks.

Why was he saying these things? He knew it was impossible.

“We are both coming home, Y/N, I swear,” he promised, but these were promises he couldn’t keep. These were things he couldn’t control. Why was he lying to you- why was he lying to himself?

You wanted to say all these things, to scream, to tell him that it wasn’t true, that you were going to die. But then you remembered every other time you lied in bed together, every time you kissed and held each other. You’ve been lying to yourself all along, pretending you could have a future together when, deep down, you knew that wasn’t the case.

So you held everything in, pulling Finnick to you and hugging him with everything you had. You were gonna let him pretend, just this last time.

You were gonna dance together one last time.

You spent the entire train ride in each other’s arms, only getting up to eat and go to the bathroom before getting back in bed. You didn’t have mentors—you were the mentors. You’d been here before already, and that was surreal in and of itself.

You thought you already won. But nobody ever won, did they?

Those games killed everyone, victors included.

The press was insane, but just as you expected it. You were the Prince and Princess of Panem; they didn’t want to watch you die. Turns out, people in the Capitol did have hearts; clearly, they weren’t all too functional.

This visit, in more ways than one, was completely different from any other time you’d been in the city. Instead of the graceful show you normally put on, waving and smiling, you were much more mute. You were gonna die, anyway, so what was the point of continuing to be a puppet?

Finnick was still his usual self, smirky and arrogant, but even his anger snuck through the cracks of his act. All of you were angry, all of the victors. You could tell just by the mere glances you’d gotten of them, by the news coverage. Nobody wanted to go into an arena and kill people, not even the Careers (who you’d admit were pretty crazy).

However, this was all still a show to the Capitol, with you as the unlucky cast. And the show had to go on.

You and Finnick were separated to be prepped by the “glam teams.” The first time around, you remember being scared, but now you were just bored.

You were sitting idly in the dressing room, waiting for your designer when a man walked in, making you raise a brow.

This was a designer, but not your designer.

“Wait, I know you.” You tilted your head as his face became more familiar to you. “You’re Cinna- you designed those outfits with the fire.”

Cinna nodded in a way that you perceived as both humble and prideful at the same time. “It’s wonderful to meet you, Princess.”

This elicited a bitter chuckle from you. “Please, call me Y/N.” You then stood up to shake his hand when your curiosity sparked. “Aren’t you Katniss’ designer?”

“Yes, but I’m also going to be designing your outfits, as well,” he replied. “The head Gamemaker requested it. You are the Princess, after all.”

The corners of your lips went up. Most people you met at the Capitol would beat around the bush, but this guy didn’t seem shy. It was refreshing. You teased, “Ah, and since I’m a princess, I get Panem’s best to dress me?”

Cinna chuckled a bit under his breath, but didn’t confirm or deny your comment. He dived straight into his plans, explaining what he wanted to for you with a twinkle in his eye that you noticed most artists had when speaking about their work. “I want to stay true to the district 4 theme, but I want to make a statement.”

“Yeah, I had a feeling.”

He smiled. “We’re gonna show the Capitol that they can’t control you.”

And then your little smile turned into a grin.

Cinna did not disappoint. You were in a golden, long-sleeve, grid shirt with holes where the squares were supposed to be; your velvet skirt was a dark blueish-green, skin-tight; and atop your head was a golden crown, decorated with blue jewels.

Of course, it wasn’t a normal outfit, but you were gonna save the theatrics for the parade.

Finnick was around somewhere, likely causing trouble while you were walking around, looking for Johanna. However, you ended up running into someone else.

“Peeta,” you called, and he turned around. He immediately reminded you of Finnick, a mask of charm hiding him. Although Peeta had only been at this for a year, he already knew how to play the game, unlike Katniss who was rather unapproachable.

“Y/N,” he greeted. He scrambled for something to say for a few seconds. “I heard about how you volunteered for that girl. It was really brave.”

You hummed, almost sarcastically. “You don’t have to suck up to me—it’s not like I bite.”

He got red, making you stifle a laugh. “That’s, uh- that’s not what I meant-”

“It’s fine, I get it,” you waved it off. “It’s probably intimidating to be here around all of us, just a year after you won.” He didn’t say anything, just awkwardly smiled. “You know, you don’t have to be scared. You have a lot of power ‘round here; you just need to learn how to wield it.”

He gave you a confused look, so you elaborated, “There’s power in the masses, Peeta. The people here love you.” You paused. “Use that.”

A look of realization crossed his face, and so you decided that you said all you needed to say. He thanked you, but his mind looked to be elsewhere. You nodded, then walked off to find your carriage.

Sure, the Capitol could try and treat you all like pieces on a chess board, but if you got rid of the board altogether, then there would be no game to play. You spoke to Peeta to help him realize that. It didn’t matter if you were all meant to be on different sides; until you got into that arena, you were all one team, and you were gonna try your hardest to stop The Games before they began.

If that didn’t work, then you would just have to concede. One way or another, you would make sure that Finnick made it out of that arena alive. Peeta reminded you an awful lot of him, and while you would otherwise be rooting for him, you would choose Finnick if it came down to it.

You met Finnick at the chariot not long after leaving Peeta. He was shirtless, wearing a skirt similar to your top, rope around his wrists like bracelets. If you weren’t about to go into this stupid parade, you would’ve probably been making out already, but you were far too worried to think about that.

You had Cinna to thank for calming your nerves, giving you something to look forward to. Once the parade had started and you were coming through, you pressed the button of the device he had given you and then your top went up in flames, disintegrating until you were just in a black bralette, revealing the swirls of blue they painted on your arms, resembling waves. The rope around Finnick’s wrists caught fire, too, burning up until there was nothing there.

The crowd cheered, chanting your names. The faintest of smirks grew on your lips, but you really had to stifle your enjoyment when you saw Snow staring your carriage down.

What you did symbolized freeing yourself of the shackles of the Capitol, of these stupid Games. They could try, but they wouldn’t control you.

You would’ve usually felt some sort of fear- hell, you were never so defiant just in fear of what they would do to you. But what more could they do to you? They were already going to kill you. You didn’t care anymore.

After the parade, you ran into Johanna who gave you a good laugh as she told you how she stripped in the elevator. You would’ve paid good money to see it, that was for sure. You also talked to a few other victors on your way back to your suite.

You’d been friends with many of these people for years and now the Capitol was just gonna try and pit you against each other. None of you were looking forward to that—you were friends. But that didn’t mean you couldn’t make any allies.

Alliances didn’t last forever in the arena, but they lasted long enough. Considering your status, almost everyone wanted you and your “boyfriend” as allies; they certainly didn’t want you as enemies.

The next day was spent at the training centre, a brand new one made specially for the Quarter Quell. The thought made you roll your eyes. The Capitol would spend their money on things like this and yet there were still kids out there starving. What kind of world was that? One that you were okay with leaving, so long as Finnick would remain in it.

On your way in, you passed Cashmere and Gloss throwing knives at holograms. They were good, you noted, but not better at it than you. Johanna was off practicing by herself—though you were sure that she was doing it more so to release her pent-up aggression. Wiress and Beetee, Nuts and Volts as Jo called them, were by themselves, much less violent than everyone else here and much more strategic. Finnick was tying knots, looking more bored than anything. And you… you weren’t doing anything.

You leaned back on a wall, watching the other tributes instead of joining them. You didn’t care about the rankings or making yourself look dangerous. You didn’t have anything to prove; you did that already, and you really didn’t need to “practice,” either.

You’ve danced this dance before.

However, not everyone was so aware of just how well you danced last time.

“Not practicing?” You turned your head, seeing the newest victor walking up to you, donning her famous hairstyle. The corners of your lips quirked up in amusement.

She must have been told to make friends. You couldn’t imagine it was working out so well if she was coming to you.

“Don’t need to, Everdeen,” you replied, shrugging. “I don’t need the spotlight; got enough of that.”

She lightly snorted. “Yeah, I know what that’s like.” And you didn’t doubt that. Katniss had definitely captured the attention of Panem with her actions, and she certainly acquired the attention of the Capitol. Snow couldn’t have been her biggest fan.

In another life, you could picture you and her being friends, but you knew it wasn’t gonna happen in this one.

“You’re lucky, you know,” you said. You knew she didn’t see that way, and maybe it was a little bitter of you to say that, but it was true. At least she hadn’t been under the spotlight long enough for it to burn her like it’d burned you.

She scoffed, “How so?” The girl had restraint, you’d give her that. She clearly wanted to say a lot more than that, but she was smart. She knew better.

You shrugged again. “You just are.” And you left it there. If she wanted all the dirty details about you, she could try her luck with one of the other victors, but you doubted she sensed the real meaning of your words. She hadn’t been dancing long enough to even hear the song yet.

A dramatic sigh then escaped your lips. “Ah, though I suppose even your luck can only run so far, Girl on Fire. So sorry about your wedding.” The sarcasm in your voice was toned down just enough that it wasn’t so evident but evident enough to make your point.

She gave you a tense smile, although you weren’t sure if any of Katniss’ smiles ever weren’t tense. “Thanks,” she responded with zero sincerity in her tone. “I’m sorry you and Finnick never had one, either. Would’ve been a real royal occasion.”

You hummed, smiling your royal smile back at her. The Kat has claws, you thought. But you didn’t really feel like standing here and trading subliminals with her all day; you’d have enough of that with everyone else, anyway.

You left it at that, going to walk away before pausing as if you’d forgotten something. “Tell Haymitch I said hi.” You gave her a once over. “He’s done a good job.” And then you walked away.

Finnick’s voice rang through your head: May the odds be ever in your favour, darling. You almost felt like recycling that line and repeating it to Katniss, but you had already messed with her enough.

Your demeanour was in stark contrast of how you normally behaved. You may have been more agreeable or kind at home, sweet on cameras, but in this territory, you had an entirely different reputation. Sharp, cunning, unpredictable—ruthless. That’s the way it needed to be if you wanted to survive, or at least survive long enough to do what you needed to do.

So, you supposed that you had a mask, too.

You all did.

When you got back to your suite later in the evening, Finnick informed you of Katniss’ display with her bow and arrow, how she had renowned victors quaking in their boots, but people were even more scared of you, and you hadn’t even done anything at training.

You basically had the entire pool of tributes to choose from for an alliance. You were choosing Johanna, of course, and Finnick already had his mind made up on his pick.

Making his way over to you, he tossed you something that you swiftly caught before sitting down on the armchair across from the sofa you were sitting on. You looked down, opening your hand to see a golden pendant, a medallion with a rose in the middle.

You raised a brow. This wasn’t a present. “A rose?”

“They’re a Capitol favourite.” Precisely why you hated them.

“Alright, and why are you giving it to me?”

Finnick brought his wrist up, showing you a golden bracelet made of vines while wiggling his fingers. “They’re gifts,” he told you, “from Effie Trinket and Haymitch Abernathy.”

You were familiar with both people. Effie Trinket was crazy, but that wasn’t the dominant thought on your mind. “Gifts for what?”

He answered, “They’ve brokered an alliance with us on behalf of Katniss and Peeta.” At that, you groaned, but Finnick readily cut you off. “This will be good for us, Y/N.”

“They’re brand new to this,” you countered. Sure, you liked the spark that the Girl on Fire had, and Peeta was quite the catch, but they only won a year ago. The Careers would be a better pick, even though you didn’t exactly like them, either.

“Yes, but they’re good; you’ve seen them. And the Capitol’s gonna love it, the two pairs of lovers together. C’mon, you know all this.” You did. You knew that this was one of the best avenues to take, but something in you was against it.

Maybe it was just that Peeta reminded you of the man you were in love with, and Katniss reminded you of yourself. But right now, you had to remind yourself to think with your head, not your heart. You needed to disregard your feelings and do whatever it took to win this.

To you, winning didn’t mean surviving this. Winning meant that Finnick did.

So, with a sigh, you surrendered, agreeing to this little deal. “So, these accessories are, what? Bargaining chips?”

He smirked. “No, they’re symbols. Katniss and Peeta have theirs, too.”

You chuckled, shaking your head and mocking, “So we’re in a little golden alliance, then?”

“It appears so, darling.”

After a little more conversation, Finnick and you headed off to bed, even though neither of you could really sleep. You held each other, though, and so the insomnia was bearable. He told you to stow the necklace away, that you were saving the objects for The Games. Apparently, Katniss and Peeta still needed a little persuasion for this, especially the former.

She was smart not to trust you, but she was equally as naive for the same reason. If you wanted to, you could be judgemental all day, but you didn’t have the time for it, so your mind didn’t linger on the subject.

When you were waiting to be assessed the next day with the rest of the tributes, your mind didn’t really linger on anything. You felt numb: not pleased, not sad, just numb. If you could pin-point an emotion, it had to be anger, but that feeling hadn’t left you since your first Games.

Finnick, on the other hand, looked no different, maybe even a little amused by the tension in the room, too amused for somebody who had to go back to the arena. But Finnick was always one to look a challenge into the eye and, instead of looking away, give it a wink. That was his persona while you were here, in the Capitol, so you’d let him indulge in it if that’s what made him feel better.

You’d do anything for him, even if he didn’t love you back.

He went into the room first. You didn’t know exactly what he was gonna do, but you knew that you were all basically doing the same thing. Plutarch Heavensbee may have been new, but even he knew who you all were. You’ve all shown your skills already, been here already, danced this dance already.

The song was getting old.

You were all giving your own personal fuck you to the Capitol.

When Finnick walked out, he flashed you a smirk that almost made you laugh. You stifled a smile as you walked into the room yourself, but it was quickly wiped off your face as memories played in your head like a movie.

You remembered the first time you did this, coming in and saying your name, scared out of your mind but ready to win, ready to impress the sponsors.

Now, you didn’t have to say your name. You caught their attention as soon as you walked in. You were the Princess. You needed no introduction.

It was funny, though, how that imaginary crown couldn’t save you from this.

The thought of your inevitable death was what fuelled you. You were known for your abilities with a sword, but that wasn’t what you reached for. You reached for the jug of gasoline and a lighter, immediately opening it and pouring in a circle in the middle of the room before stepping into it.

Then you looked right up at all of them and their confused faces, and threw the open lighter to the liquid in front of you, igniting a circle of fire around you.

You stared right at the head Gamemaker as you did it, expressionless. His expression told you that he got the message, or at least your hostility.

You would burn this place to the ground if you had to, even if you got burned while doing it.

When the flames got smaller, you turned and stepped over them, walking out of the room without another glance or word to the Capitol mutts. As far as you were concerned, they weren’t worth your time—you were running out of that, anyways.

Once the assessments were over, all any of you had time to do was get ready for the show. Caesar wasn’t exactly a face you wanted to see right now. Maybe he saw his enthusiasm as a way of “calming the tributes down,” but it was really just his lack of empathy. You didn’t need him cheering and practically gossiping about your death before it happened.

As much as the people in the Capitol liked to think of these Games as games, they weren’t. They were your lives. But you really could spend days obsessing over it, days that you didn’t have.

It was time to dance, and there was nothing you did better.

You were backstage, standing with Finnick and Johanna, waiting your turns. Cinna had made you very pretty. He was good at what he did.

You were wearing a dark blue dress with wide straps tied into blue bows at your shoulders and a sweetheart neckline. The bottom half was pretty fitted, but it was covered by a sparkly, golden, A-line, hoop petticoat made of the same material as your top from the parade, gridded with holes like before. And of course, your crown sat atop your head—Cinna insisted.

He really wanted to nail the whole Princess thing, milk it for all it was worth. And you let him, because his designs were great. Part of you wished you could’ve gotten more into fashion; now you’d never get the chance to.

You couldn’t blame Katniss for being so stand-offish. You’d be intimidated, too, if you were new to the club, watching from the sidelines. You, Finnick, and Johanna didn’t really seem all too approachable right now, either, even the ever so charming Odair. They were exchanging jokes and laughing at the interviews, mocking them, while you were rather stoic, observing the interviews watchfully.

Cashmere and Gloss went first, of course. They did theirs together since they were brother and sister. It was odd to you, how two siblings managed to get reaped together out of all the victors district 1 had, but you were paying more attention to the act they were putting on.

Casmere was sobbing. She’s a much better killer than she is an actor, you thought, but the people in the audience clearly bought it. You’d give her credit, though; you were all trying your best to get this thing cancelled, even if that was highly unlikely.

Next came the two crazy Careers who made Gloss’ acting look world class. Then Beetee went on stage, using logic as a tactic rather than emotion. Smart, but logic wouldn’t sway President Snow’s wishes. The Capitol sent innocent kids off to die every year in a televised event to pay for something that happened years before any of them were born—logic was obviously not their strong suit.

Wiress went next, and that’s basically when you tuned out. She was pretty out of it, not really saying much. Finnick was going after her. That’s what occupied your thoughts.

“Hey, you alright?” Your were snapped out of your daze by the very man you were thinking about, as if he was reading your mind. Those blue eyes that you loved so much stared down at you, concern swimming through them.

Those ocean eyes. You could drown in them.

You cleared your throat, straightening your shoulders. “Yeah, I’m good.” He continued to stare down at you like he was completely unconvinced, but before he could say anything, they were calling his name.

He cursed under his breath then placed a soft kiss on your temple before having to walk out on stage, that famous smirk on his face. He was so good at that, at going from hard to soft so easily, cursing to kissing you.

He was good. He was real good, and he was a much better actor than any other tribute here. He was so good that he could make even you believe his performance.

You watched them from the TV backstage. “Finnick,” Caesar started. “As I recall, the last time we spoke, it was with your other half, who is here today.” The crowd cheered.

Finn nodded, smiling tensely, which you were sure he did on purpose. “That’s right.”

“You and the Princess have so graciously shared your love with us, and we have fallen in love with you both, perhaps as much as you love each other.” You and Johanna simultaneously rolled your eyes. Finnick, though, smiled to the cheering audience, mouthing thank you’s that no doubt made them swoon. “None of us know how to deal with the fact that you are both going into The Games- I certainly haven’t come to terms with it. Tell us, how are you dealing with this?”

You scoffed. If there was something the people of the Capitol liked to do, it was pretending that your tragedy was their own. They didn’t know even half of your pain, any of yours.

Caesar practically shoved the microphone in Finnick’s face. He looked down, like he was thinking, but you knew he probably had this bit down pat already. “If I’m being honest, neither Y/N nor I have come to terms with it, either.” He now looked right to the camera. “What I do know is that I will do whatever it takes to protect the woman I love.” The crowd cooed as you looked straight at the TV, as if Finnick was staring into your eyes. “And if I… if I die in that arena, then my last thought will be of her lips… and how lucky I was to have met her and have had the opportunity to give her my heart.”

The crowd went wild and Caesar said something in response, but you couldn’t hear it. You were stuck staring into Finnick’s eyes, the eyes you fell in love with. Oh, he was so good. He could dance the dance so much better than you. Because everything he said, he almost made you believe that he meant it.

You blinked the tears in your eyes away when Johanna shook you, telling you they were about to announce your name. You put the mask back on, and it was your love for Finnick that made you do it. You were doing this for him.

An exhale left your lips as you waited for your cue. “And now, ladies and gentlemen, as our Prince exits, I have the honour of welcoming his counterpart to the stage. The winner of the 67th Hunger Games. The Princess of Panem. Y/N Y/L/N!”

The doors you stood behind opened and you walked onto the stage, a stellar smile on your face as you waved to the roaring crowd. You just had to play the role, and everything would be fine.

When the cheers died down, Caesar gave you a sympathetic look, or at least a look that he thought was sympathetic. “Now, Y/N, it is lovely to see you. You look stunning.”

“Thank you, Caesar. It’s always wonderful to see you. I just wish it was under different circumstances.” You glanced to the crowd, catching their pity. For once, that was the exact emotion you wished to inspire.

“Yes, I think I speak for us all when I say that this is not easy.” You tightly smiled, even though you really just wanted to flip him off. “We just spoke to Finnick, he has been quite expressive these past few days in the Capitol, but you, Y/N, you have not been as revealing. Please, we’d like to know what’s been on your mind.”

If Caesar really heard what was on your mind, then he’d be appalled. That wasn’t your goal, even though you’d greatly enjoy that. Instead, you had a different play.

The audience was very quiet in anticipation of your response. You sighed, keeping the tired smile. “I, um… I’ve had a lot on my mind, really. Finnick and I, we thought we had more time, time to get married and even have kids, but now it’s like that time has just been… stolen from us.” Collective awes resounded throughout the crowd as Caesar brought his other hand to his chest, like your words moved him. “It’s- it’s just not fair, simple as that. But I love him, and that love will survive, even if I don’t.”

The audience let their dismay be known while Caesar shook his head. “Oh, my dear, I have seen your love- we all have, and I know that it will never die.” You nodded in agreement, listening to everyone else agree with you.

The acting was easier than you thought it’d be. Maybe that was because it wasn’t all acting, not for you. You knew your role, and you knew it well, but your love for Finnick was not something you had to fake. It was perhaps one of the only real things you had left.

“Now, we are all in for an emotional night, so I’d just like to lighten the mood a little- is that alright?” You nodded again, though you wondered how he would’ve reacted if you didn’t. “Okay, now we all saw your display at the parade- isn’t that right, everyone?” He paused, letting them applaud. “Yes, it was magnificent. Would I be right in assuming that you have something similar planned tonight?”

“Oh, you’d be correct,” you responded, flashing a grin at the whooping crowd.

“Please, please.” He stepped back. “Go right ahead.”

You glanced at Cinna sitting front row before pressing the button of the device he gave you. The golden petticoat then went up in flames, seemingly “ejecting” the skirt of your dress, sending it from above your knees to your ankles as it went from skin-tight to flowy. The very bottom faded into a teal colour, like the sea.

The crowd’s cheers got louder than you thought possible. Caesar wowed, then raised his voice. “Ladies and gentlemen, the Princess of Panem!” You gave the crowd one last wave before making your way up the stairs to stand with the rest of the victors.

You were standing next to Finnick by the time the next tribute was called out and the attention was on them. To your surprise, he grabbed your hand, holding it tightly. But what really surprised you was the slight tremble you felt.

You looked up at him to see him already staring down at you. His mask fell a little, and instead of the at-ease Finnick you just saw, you were looking at a much more serious, stern version. You were confused by what could’ve brought this on, but then he leant down slightly, whispering in your ear, “I told you. I’m not letting you die.” When he pulled away, he didn’t look any less serious.

Oh, what a great liar he could be. There he was, making you believe in things that couldn’t possibly be true. You were going to die. You knew that, and you’d accepted it already. But Finnick hadn’t accepted it at all. He looked like he was believing his own lie.

You don’t know why this had shaken him so badly. Maybe he felt obligated to you, maybe he felt bad for you, but whatever it was, you weren’t gonna make it worse.

You could be a good actor, too.

For him.

You nodded, whispering back, “I know.” This looked to have calmed him down a little. He kissed the side of your head, and then the mask was back up. He kept his tight hold on your hand, and you let him.

You never know when it’d be the last time you held hands, and so you were gonna enjoy this while it lasted.

Even though this was an “emotional night,” as Caesar had dubbed it, you still got satisfaction out of everything the victors were pulling. When Johanna came on stage, she had a totally different approach than all of your sad acts and Beetee’s logic: she said what you all really wanted to say, giving the Capitol a loud fuck you.

You and Finnick had to stop yourselves from laughing amidst your shock. Caesar definitely wasn’t expecting that. You knew Snow definitely wasn’t expecting that, either. You hoped he was watching this right now, and you hoped that all of Panem could feel your outrage.

But if you were surprised by anything, it was the so called star-crossed lovers from district 12. Katniss’ wedding dress was a nice touch; she could’ve convinced even you that they were in love, if you didn’t know any better.

You weren’t the only one with a message to send to the Capitol with your attire. She spun around and her white dress was engulfed in flames, transforming into a midnight blue dress similar to yours. And when she lifted her arms, wings were revealed, and the smile on your lips widened.

“It’s a bird,” Caesar stammered in awe. “It’s like, a- it’s got feathers- it’s a bird- like a-”

You murmured at the same time as Katniss spoke up, “Like a Mockingjay.” You looked up to Finnick, seeing him already smirking. Everdeen was a lot ballsier than you thought.

“Your stylist certainly has outdone himself this time, hasn’t he? Bestowing not one, but two just astonishing looks upon us! What theatricality.” The attention was drawn to your designer. “Cinna! Take a bow.”

You were growing to like this man more and more, knowing that the Capitol must have hated him.

When the cheers died down and Katniss came and joined you all, the event was almost over with just Peeta left. You remembered the advice you gave him; you had high hopes for him, and he did not disappoint.

He claimed he and Katniss had a secret wedding, reeled them all in, and then he added the cherry on top. “You know, Katniss and I, we’ve been luckier than most. And I wouldn’t have any regrets at all…” he paused, choking up, “i-if, if it weren’t… if…”

“If it weren’t for what? What, Peeta?”

“If it weren’t for the baby.”

Hook, line, and sinker.

The audience clamoured. You slapped a hand over your mouth to hide the upturn of your lips, feigning horror. Finnick was in the same boat, stifling a laugh.

Golden boy was smarter than he got credit for.

People in the audience stood up, shouting while Caesar tried to calm them down. They were calling for The Games to be stopped, exactly what you’d been trying to achieve all night. Caesar whispered something to Peeta away from the microphone, and he walked up the stairs to the rest of you, hugging his apparent wife.

Then suddenly, you were nudged by the person next to you, looking down to see their hand outstretched. You quickly realized what was going on and grabbed it. And then amidst all the fury, you brought your hands up together. Yes, they wanted you to kill each other, but you were all united in the same fight first.

It became obvious that Caesar couldn’t contain the crowd’s indignation any longer, so the anthem played, increasing in volume to try and drown them out, but your actions were still so much louder than words.

That’s when the lights cut out.

But it would be a lot harder for the Capitol to snuff out the spark you all lit.

While you all did your best, your efforts appeared to be futile. Snow wasn’t against killing children, so you supposed that you all should’ve known better than to think that he’d cancel The Games for Everdeen’s baby.

However, it wasn’t completely useless. You had the public’s support. Sponsors wouldn’t be hard to get, so at least that was something. But all in all, The Games were still happening. One winner. Twenty-three of you would be dead, and you were going to be one of them.

Your last Games, you were relentless, selling your soul to stay alive. And you were gonna do it all over again, but this time, your objective wasn’t staying alive at all. It was making sure Finnick could make it home to Annie.

Lying there in Finnick’s arms that night for what could possibly be the last time, you realized that you would die without ever having been loved by someone. You were with Finnick, and you loved him, but he didn’t love you back.

These last few days, you had been consumed by fire, knowing that you would burn everything down if it meant your lover would be safe, but it was like it was just hitting you that you’d been warming yourself up with a flame that wasn’t ever really yours.

You knew without a doubt that Finnick Odair was your soulmate.

But you weren’t his.

Tears pooled into your eyes at the thought, and so you quickly buried your head into his chest before a panic attack could came on. You calmed down to the sound of his heartbeat, the heartbeat that you personally would make sure didn’t stop until he was old and his hair was grey.

The next day was a blur between the hovercraft, having the trackers injected into you, and then being separated from Finnick. The only thing you really could remember was how he kissed your cheek before he left.

And then you were in the tube, rising up into the arena. You couldn’t get a good look at it. Every time you blinked, your Games flashed before your eyes. Sun, cold, dirt, blood, screaming, murder.

You inhaled deeply, closing your eyes as the announcer counted down. Pull yourself together, Y/N, you thought.

And then The Games begun.

Taglist: @honestlycasualarcade

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alphajocklover · 3 months ago

Note

just wanted to say that Uncle story you made was really good... Any chance for a part 2?

Hey everyone. I wanted to thank you all for your kind words concerning my Uncle John. After I shared what had happened to him and how I got into TF reporting, I got a lot of supportive messages (along with the regular ones that seem to think this is some sort of… kink blog? What even is that?). Because of how kind you’ve been, I thought I should update you on how everything is going. I’m sorry to say there isn’t much to update you on though. I have a good idea as to who transformed my uncle, which I’ll probably expand upon in another post (I keep saying that, I know, but I will), but what I don’t know is where he is. I haven’t got a clue where he is at the moment, but luckily I’m not the only one searching for him.

The Douchebag Revolution has been keeping an eye out for him for one. Since I help them out sometimes they’ve been helping me. They can be surprisingly nice at times, and they’re pretty sympathetic to people who have been transformed against their will, since they all were at some point. They also seem to have somehow gotten the idea that Uncle John was straight before he got transformed, but since that seems to motivate them more I haven’t corrected them.

I have members of other groups I’ve mentioned helping me too. I won’t name names, since they could get fired (or transformed), but I do have some connections at EB Jewelry, despite the company's anti-journalist policy. They’re the reason I was actually able to get some information on the company in the first place, and they’ve been using some of their connections within the company to help look for my Uncle. They haven’t found much yet, though it's because of them I can safely say that EB Jewelry isn’t involved in what happened.

Then of course there are the other TF Reporters who help, a few personal friends of my Uncle, and… Nick. My Uncles literally devilish friend, Nick. Honestly, he’s been looking harder than anyone, and I think I know why. I’ve always referred to Nick as my Uncle’s devil friend, and that's how he introduced himself to me, but… from what I’ve noticed, they were actually closer than that. It was the little things that gave it away. The look in Nick's eyes when he talks about my uncle, both fond and painful, the way he seems more desperate to find him than I do, how protective he’s been of me since my Uncle disappeared. I think he and my Uncle John were seriously involved, for quite a long time.

It’s kind of weird to realize your Uncle is, or at least was, in a long term relationship with a devil, but no matter the reason, I’m glad he's here. I don’t know If I could do all this without Nick's help. He’s half the reason I haven't been turned into a dumb hunk myself. I do worry sometimes that this is starting to get to him. Whoever transformed Uncle John has been sending… pictures, recently. He’s always transformed in a different way and with a different look, but I can just tell it’s him. They’re showing him off like some sort of trophy, using him to mock us. Nick never says anything but it’s killing him seeing my Uncle that way, I can tell.

This whole thing is my fault. I was the reason my Uncle got changed. I have to get him back. I know whoever took him is reading this post. I know you’re powerful, powerful enough that time travel, demons and capitalist don’t want to fight you. But I’m not afraid of you. I know who you are, and I’m giving you a fair warning: I’m coming for you, and I’m getting him back. No matter what.

**I’ve been meaning to do a sequel to the ‘My Uncle’ story for a while. I love big lore stories. I need to introduce the big bad soon, but there so much other stuff to write too so it might still be a bit. Hope you love this story and hope you guys can wait!**

#muscle growth tf #muscle tf #jock tf #jock transformation #jockification #EB Jewelry #douchebag revolution #uncle #uncle john

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juliasmesmerized · 24 days ago

Text

Video Games

pairings: Josh Washington x F!Reader, Chris Hartley x Ashley Brown (Until Dawn) type: fluff, too deep into the friendship, mutual pining, subtle flirting summary: Josh and Chris have gaming nights as the only 'geeks' in the group. Chris and Ashley got together and she found out of this 'secret'. Since they knew nobody else would be interested they didn't invite anyone and they knew nobody would care for it regardless. Ashley tells you about it and you join Chris's party and surprising them both. AU: sister's never disappeared, all of them are university students now too. vibes intended: cherry flavored - The Neighbourhood (I personally listen to Odetari when playing competitive games such as Overwatch which will be reference to the video game they'll be playing.) for the best experience: unfortunately we lost interactivefics, but there's another chrome extension called word replacer II; I recommend using it to have this be read in the way it was intended. I will have this on my masterlist at some point, but for now this'll be a disclaimer on every post I make. I hear when people say it breaks the immersion when using y/n and such, but I use the extension above and it gets me more excited to read. hopefully, with this, people can enjoy this piece of work and other y/n works. (i can also make a you / y/n-less version, but i just prefer seeing my name for DR purposes) word count: 2944 part 1 | part 2 | part 3

Chris booted up his computer to get into his and Josh's untimely tradition of playing video games until dawn. Their current fixation stands tall to be a five versus five shooter with each character having unique abilities and are divided into three ranks. Each team has one tank, two damage dealers, and two supports. Chris is a serious tank main while his main damage dealer teammate would be Josh. Josh may sometimes switch it up by taking up the other roles, but it was clear which one was his favorite.

Chris's phone buzzed; the screen lit up to reveal a new-found message from his gaming buddy, Josh. The chat log reads:

Josh: still up for the matches? Chris: yeah im just turning the game on Josh: ok cool i thought maybe bc ash was with u you'd forget Chris: nah bro we had a plan ill stick to it Josh: that tight bod bro, bro we're gonna lose u to it Chris: i dont have a raging libido like u josh Josh: u wound me

As soon as the game loaded up, an invite from Josh immediately popped up on the top part of the screen. He accepted and as soon as the voice chat system on the game connected he could hear screaming on the other side: "YEEEEEEAAAH!" Their names pop up on the left side corner of the screen with a speaker graphic to symbolize them speaking.

Chris's expression turned quizzical, "Josh?" the username 'c0destopher' perked up on the screen while the username 'washingmachine' never left.

Josh, still excited for having his winding down time, kept going. "We're finally doing this since we've been buried under exams. They're OVER! Let's get this party started!"

Josh chose the role queue option which allows players to pick their ranks ahead of time which ensures better play experience as everyone enters the match knowing what they want is given. Chris, without taking much time confirmed only tank. Josh decided on all roles, and since Chris was only tank, he only had the chance to be a damage dealer or support.

Chris's door swings open. Ashley, who was too engrossed in her phone, began to speak. "Hey Chris, I'm going out to the store to get something I'd need for the-" She looks up to realize the dark atmosphere with his computer screaming RGB lights that lit the room in an unnatural way. "You playing with Josh?"

His heart sank from her sudden entrance, but regained his composure. "Yeah Ash, he could still hear us if you wanna say hi." Ashley took him up on his offer and took the headphones off of Chris. She held one ear pad up to her ear to not ruin her hair, but still be able to hear Josh.

Ashley smiled as he greeted her. "What's up Josh?" Chris couldn't actually hear what Josh was telling her, the muffled sounds were whisked away by his thoughts overwhelming him. It'd only been a while back he confessed to Ashley and she excitedly accepted to be his girlfriend. It still feels surreal to him. She tucked her hair behind the free ear and began speaking once more.

"That's good, I'm well. You do this often?" Her eyes looked up unintentionally, as to focus on the conversation. She slightly nods her head from time to time.

She tilted her head and hummed before speaking. "Well, I just wanted to see if Chris wanted anything from the store." Chris's eyes were locked onto her facial features, the way she moved, and her cute mannerisms when she's talking to somebody on the phone.

She keeps nodding out of nowhere and he could hear Josh stopping to allow her to speak. "Oh! I'm getting some stuff I need for my hair, and also some snacks. I forgot some things I needed."

Josh's muffled voice perked up and Chris could hear him going on about the match about to begin. Ashley responds immediately. "The game's starting? I'll get you back to Chris." She places the headphones back on for him, trying her best not to hurt him. The character selection screen opens, but Chris looks back at Ashley as she leaves the room.

Before she closes the door after herself, she peered into the room once more. "I’ll get you some snacks, anything else?" He nods sweetly to her and she smiles and closes the door.

She got her coat from the hanger and wore it. With her purse on her shoulder, Ashley left the apartment and locked the door behind her. She placed her key in her purse, and took out her phone from her pocket. She messaged y/n asking to call her.

A few moments later, her phone rang to see a call premeditated by her own message asking for it. “You won’t believe what I just saw!” Ashley giddly spoke to the phone. She pressed the button to the elevator to signal it to open on her floor.

Her friend responded on the other side. “What happened?”

“I just saw Chris and Josh playing the game you like! This is your moment! Surprise them and join them!”

y/n audibly gasped. “What?! They used to bully me about it all the time!”

y/n continued on, this time mocking Josh’s words to her when talking about the game she liked. “Call Of Duty is the better of the competitive games and not that hero rainbow bullshit!” Her voice went sarcastically deeper and had a few ‘blah blah blah’s splattered around it.

Ashley left the elevator to walk outside. The wind gushing through her as she left the complex. “I know! That’s why I got so shocked, I thought you’d love to know that they got into it so you could tease back. Especially, Josh. I didn’t show that I cared too much so they wouldn’t suspect a thing!”

She took some time to think it through before responding. “I don’t think I should even if I want to show them for teasing me and then playing it. If I wasn’t invited then it’d look bad on me to join their group.”

“Oh come on, y/n. We both know they wouldn’t mind you playing, they didn’t invite you because it’d look badly on them for teasing you about the same game they got themselves into. I even got Chris’s username memorized for you.”

y/n relented and gave in to Ashley’s plan. “Alright why not. I’m down to cause a little bit of chaos.”

“I’ll send you everything right now.” Ashley closed the phone and looked ahead of her to cross the street. She arrived at the grocery store and went inside to escape the cold. Once inside, she opened her phone once more. Ashley spilled out everything she remembered, hoping it’d suffice.

Ashley: c0destopher#5576 y/n: thats actually so geeky Ashley: i know its so stupid y/n: birds of a feather, your username on goodreads reminds me of the one he has on the game Ashley: dont compare me to that when im doing u a favor to get closer to josh y/n: aye aye captain y/n: i friend requested him Ashley: im sure he accepts everyone y/n: and that u are right ab bc he accepted me right away Ashley: ok ill go focus on doing what i have to do update me whenever ill read when i can y/n: okay thanks ash i will let u know how it goes, stay safe

She booted up the game as she friend requested him on the mobile app. Unsurprisingly on Chris's account, it shows a new button: 'join group' and y/n had a long and hard moment of clarity set in that she's going to have to face Josh if she entered. Her face felt warmer, not that they were anything special, but he was special. She regretted relenting to Ashley's plans due to the trouble she went through getting the information to her.

She took a deep breath and entered their group. The bottom left corner displays a party chat message: unforgettable has joined the group.

Josh, not realizing the message, spoke up. "Yeah I think out of the group, y/n stands out the most, you know? The only person that has playful banter back towards me within the group from the girls. Jess and Em both would do the same, but they're too into their boyfriends so they act like they're untouchable. Sam likes to ensure I wouldn't get hurt which is sweet, but it ruins the fun. Like you could tell she's holding back for my sake."

She, who obviously entered a conversation which shouldn't be privy to her, shoved a palm onto her mic to mute it which showed her name with the speaker graphic. She didn't waste time in messaging Ashley.

y/n: I dun goofed. Ashley: what?

Chris realized first that a message showed up in their party chat that isn't accounted for and the voice chat had a third person suddenly. "Wait who is that?" She could see him using his charge attack to stun his enemy into a wall to kill them. When a friend joins a party in an ongoing game, the leftover friend spectates the match. The chat still open on her phone, y/n stayed quiet to just see the chaos begin to brew and to text Ash.

y/n: I seriously fucked up. Ashley: you gotta explain EVERYTHING!!!!!!!!!!!

Josh took a look and was at a loss. "I dunno. Did you invite them?" Josh was playing a character with double shotguns, and his character needed to creep near enemies to deal serious damage. Typical shotguns.

y/n: he didn't realize i heard him neither of them did?????? Ashley: STOP BEING CRYPTIC WHATS GOING ON??????

"No, did you?" Chris, even if nobody could see, shook his head due to habit. His character slashed his hammer at the enemy tank, dealing some okay output, but the reason for this is to create space for his team to do the damage. She realized this quite quickly.

y/n: WELL i listened to u and joined them and i joined them as josh was talking about the girls and he spoke about me saying i was the only one that stood out to him between all the girls since i give and take in his banter with us. Ashley: OMG? THEN WHAT?

Josh answered his question and was about to say something else, "no," but Chris remembered something.

y/n: heres where i fucked up, yk my mic has an external mute button where placing a palm on it would mute? Ashley: yeah so?

He spoke up. "Oh! They added me a few minutes back and I accepted." Score, he remembered her, but didn't realize who she was. She thought to herself. Josh was getting ready to use his 'ultimate' ability since he charged it to the max. y/n got more focused into the conversation with Ashley that her fingers were going to reach the speed of light.

y/n: well i kinda sorta fucked up by being so nervous after i heard what i heard that i literally kind of slapped the top part where the palm was supposed to go and they heard it and realized i was there Ashley: GIRL WHAT SO THEY DIDNT REALZE YOU HEARD THEM OHMYGDOS???? y/n: YUP IMAGINE WHAT THE HELL? Ashley: SO CHRIS KNOWS THIS ENTIRE TIME THAT JOSH THINKS YOIURE SPECIAL NAND NEVER TOLD ME? THE AUDAXITY OF THAT MAN y/n: WHAT LOL?

Josh chuckled a bit. "Why do you accept randos?" He hid on the roof of a high building on the map, then jumped down and used his ability which sent bullets in a good radius in a circular motion, killing three members of the enemy team. He was shot in the head by the enemy sniper after, and thought for a second as he respawned in game. "Kick them out?"

y/n: HES TELLING CHRIS TO KICK ME OUT Ashley: NONONONO ITS GETTING GOOD

Chris didn't skip a beat. "Sure alright."

y/n: YOUR BOYFRIENDS A BASTARD HE SAID SURE TO KICKING ME?? Ashley: SAY SOMETHING OF COURSE THEY DON'T KNOW ITS YOU y/n: OK GTG BGYE

Ashley was right. y/n had to speak up now or forever hold her peace. "WAITWAITWAIT! It's just me." She peeped as if she was a criminal, but all she did was join her friends.

Josh perked up, things were getting interesting. "y/n?"

"The one and only." Her voice getting a little more confident over time.

Chris was absolutely on edge. "How'd you get my username? What? We hid this from you for months!"

"I know! Ash told me about you guys playing. How about Call of Duty being the best game on the market for these types of games?"

Chris got defensive, he didn't belittle her for her choice of games. "Hey, I didn't say that." If anything, Chris sees himself as the most understanding in that aspect. All games could be fun if done right and with the right people.

Josh, sounding sarcastically defeated, sounded like he was raising his hands to surrender himself to y/n's beck and call. "I didn't think the game would be this addictive!"

"I'm officially inviting myself to join you." She continued, she liked how she got Josh back for belittling her.

They could hear the smile come up his face. "Our group is yours, y/n." Josh said.

Chris knew exactly what he was doing. "You couldn't have come at a better time, y/n, we were just talking about romance." He was hoping Josh would take the reins to say something witty.

She raised an eyebrow and smirked against the screen. "Romance, huh? Tell me about it, Josh. We're all friends, right?"

Josh quickly regained his composure after Chris kind of just outed him. "Chris is overdramatizing it. We were just talking about the group and our opinions on everyone."

"Yeah, right." Chris rolled his eyes.

Josh also rolled his eyes at him, he knew he was going to get him for this later. She spoke up which redirected them both back to the conversation. "Oh? What're his opinions Chris?"

Chris spoke up. "I can't share on behalf of somebody else, dear lady."

"Josh?" y/n called out into the cyber void that is their online voice chat. Their game has finally ended now, they queued up for another match where y/n also chose all roles like Josh.

The queue waiting time has begun, and Josh sighed; unsure if he should reveal the truth, but he did anyway. He didn't understand why he wanted to be honest with her even if he could've easily lied. "I was just saying how Emily and Jessica create barriers with the guys after getting boyfriends, it's not the same as before."

y/n nodded. "Mhm... And Ash and Sam?" She heard this story before, but to avoid suspicion, she decided to ask and follow what Chris might've set up.

Josh continued, the conversation being tame enough for him to ride the wave without falling off the board or having to admit something that was specifically between him and Chris. "Sam is a pacifist, we all know that, and Ash could be talked about by Chris for days."

"And..." She trailed off at first, but his words gave her confidence. He already admitted to her unintentionally and that's all she needed.

y/n thought she was being smart about it to get him to confess. "Me?" She would never admit that she heard him though, never, ever.

Josh chuckled and began to tease her. "Couldn't get to you until you rudely interrupted our conversation." Chris chuckled at the banter, knowing that was a complete lie. Josh didn't react to sound as honest as possible.

y/n bought it to keep face. "Uh huh, nice one, Mr. Washington. What a coincidence."

Josh returned. "Yup."

"A quinky-dink." y/n continued.

Josh replied, once more. "Mhm." Chris kept holding in a laugh at the awkward yet funny atmosphere that surrounded them, even if it meant he was the third wheel. y/n sent Josh a friend request ingame, which he promptly accepted.

A match started which changed the topic.

Josh directed his attention to his new friend's banner which would show her selection when she chose. "I never asked you who you played."

She sat deciding what support character she should choose. "Me?"

Josh took a second to try to understand her thought process when asking that. "I mean I play with Chris, I know who he plays."

She realizes her stupidity at this moment in time, but played it off cool. "Right...! I play everything including tank, but it seems like Chris takes the cake for that. I play whatever the team needs."

"Nice. Yeah, Chris likes playing tank." Josh slightly smiles at her comment. "Seems like you'll support our team, what shall you pick, madam?"

"I like playing based on the team when I'm support. I'll see what everyone else picks to best help the team with my choice of character."

Chris always keeps his number one choice unless the other team counters him. Where they'd play a character that makes his own completely useless. "I already know what I'm choosing."

"I'll play this guy this time." Josh decides to try the soldier.

"I see, if you play that then..." She chooses the damage boosting support and their teammate picks a main healer to focus on keeping everybody's health satiated.

Josh smugly replied to her action. "I think I see where this is going..."

y/n rolled her eyes behind the screen. "Not that I have any faith in you, but your ultimate that 100% doesn't miss, would need this to change the tides."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say."

hi everyone! i hope u enjoyed what you've read. i do wanna continue it, but im a bit busy and got too excited to keep it in the drafts, i want it to eventually end with one of them realizing their likeness towards one another. i usually do write longer chapters, 5k-10k, but i have a midterm tomorrow and i couldn't stop myself from writing something. comments, likes, and everything else is appreciated for ur friendly neighborhood budding writer. took about 2 hours to write this.

#until dawn #josh washington #josh washington x reader #until dawn x reader #until dawn josh #chris hartley #ashley brown #chris harley x ashley brown #until dawn 2024 #until dawn 2015 #until dawn 2 #fanfiction #reader x josh washington #x reader

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python333 · 1 year ago

Note

I love your writings sm. And I love the way you write platonic stuff with task force 141 😋

You can ignore this if ya want but I just can't get over reader angst. Honestly atp I starve for angst. Could you feed us another angst fic? Like platonic 141 with a reader where she maybe got pretty badly injured while being on a mission? :3

AND. don't forget to stay hydrated and eat well!! Take any breaks you need 😌.

(sorry if this doesn't make sense English is not my native language 🥲)

below zero — python333

— — — —

synopsis u get thrown into a freezer after refusing to give up intel to enemy soldiers, and u get thrown into a freezer, and ghost comes and saves u :3

relationships platonic!ghost & gn!reader.

characters ghost.

word count 5.2k

warnings hypothermia, disorientation, 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of c/n [code name/call sign].

note hi anon thank u so much for all the compliments!!! before i say anything else, i wanna point out that i 1) only really wrote ghost into this and 2) literally read the request completely wrong and i think im actually just illiterate because how did i mess up this bad. ALSO hi its been a month since i posted on here i swear i'm still alive i'm just super busy with school!! updates are going to be extremely slow, so i apologize in advance. still, i hope u enjoy it anyways tho!! its all hurt/comfort + angst/fluff + protective/soft ghost :3

When you were thrown into the freezer, the first thing you noticed were the bodies.

There’s ten that you can immediately see, and twelve once you look a little bit closer. All of them are suspended from the ceiling, each hanging from their ankle—with said ankle being held up by a meat hook.

When the door had been closed shut with a loud, booming thump you hadn’t felt any immediate fear. But now, as you’re sitting in the corner of the freezer you’d been trapped in—the corner farthest away from any bodies—that fear is starting to set in.

Before this, only a few minutes ago, you were being interrogated. Your captors were asking for information on the details of any upcoming missions, objectives, target locations, anything that you had about the 141 that you could share with them, they wanted.

Of course, you didn’t say anything. You remained silent throughout the entire thing, not talking once, even when at the end of the whole thing your interrogator slammed his hand down onto the table you were sat down in front of and yelled at you to say anything.

When he and his team figured out that you wouldn’t give them any information, you remember he muttered something unintelligible under his breath and swiftly walked over to your end of the table. He had uncuffed your ankles from the legs of the chair you were sitting down on and uncuffed your wrists from the table, and before you could fight back, he grabbed both of your wrists with one hand and dragged you behind him.

Then, he led you to the freezer you were trapped in now, and threw you in roughly before shutting the door behind you. You had hit and scratched at the door for a good minute after being thrown in, and after you figured that it was a waste of time trying to do so, you sighed and retired to the corner.

Now, as you’re huddled in the corner, you kind of regret not giving them the intel they needed.

The freezer wasn’t too bad at first—you thought you’d last pretty long in there, and mentally called all the dead bodies hung from meat hooks in there pussies and simply walked around for a bit. The walking helped warm you up a bit, but soon it got tiring, and you retired to the corner farthest away from any dead bodies.

You think the freezer is below zero degrees—no, has to be below zero, because now, just about five minutes after being thrown in, violent shivers have started to wrack your body and you swear you can’t feel your lips anymore. You haven’t been able to feel any sort of warmth in the past four minutes, all of it disappearing within the first.

And God, the smell. The smell of frozen, rotting flesh really isn’t something you ever want to smell again. Thankfully, there’s no live flies in the freezer—all of them had died of the severe cold, creating small black circles under each hanging body where they died.

You currently have your knees up to your chest with your hands trapped in between your thighs to try and keep them warm at least, with your forehead resting on the top of one of your knees. It’s working, kind of. The palms and backs of your hands feel just warm enough to not be considered cold, but the tips of your fingers are so cold they’re beginning to burn.

You pull them back a bit to trap your fingertips in between your thighs, exposing the area where your wrist and hand meet to the cold, sighing as your fingertips warm up just a bit. Your thighs, thankfully, still have some heat trapped in between them, and you think your stomach is still somewhat warm.

Around ten minutes later, you feel the heat trapped in your thighs start to dissipate. Fucking fantastic. You sigh and let your head tilt back, the back of it hitting the wall behind you, making you wince at the cold metal directly on your head. The cold seems to crawl through your hair and make it to your scalp, small pinpricks of the cold spreading throughout your scalp and the back of your neck.

You’re reminded of just how cold it is then, of how this is quite literally a freezer, and of how said freezer has already claimed twelve lives. Or, at least, has housed twelve dead bodies and several unfortunate flies.

Just then, the fear finally starts to set in.

At first, you weren’t all too worried about being saved—you figured you’d be found soon enough, since your team has a general idea of where you are. But the more you think about it, the more your brain emphasizes the general part of general idea. You start to think about how they don’t know any specifics.

Sure, they know that you were captured, and that you were being held in some small part of Italy, and the people who captured you—but what did they know beyond that? Did they know your exact location? How long would it take them to figure it out? And how long would it take them to get here?

Would you even be alive by the time they got here, if they ever did?

You notice your teeth starting to make an annoying chattering noise and you bite down to stop them. The violent shivers that wrack your body don’t help, the intense trembling only succeeding in making you more anxious. You start to become hyper aware of the cold that crawls onto your back from the freezing metal you’re leaning back on, and you quickly push yourself just a foot away from it so that it no longer bothers you.

Your feet are starting to feel numb, you don’t think you’d be able to stand on them anymore if you tried, for you fear you’d just stumble and fall down. You look around the small freezer. There’s nothing that could help you get out—there’s only the bodies suspended from the ceiling and the dead flies that surround them.

You’re glad none of the bodies are facing you—you don’t know what you would do if you had to sit in the corner with a bunch of dead bodies staring at you with their vacant, frozen-over eyes. Thinking about the eyes makes your own water, and you blink away the small tears that’ve gathered on your waterline.

You can’t feel them, but you see the tears that were once in your eyes now clumping together on your eyelashes, making your brows furrow. With them starting to cling to your eyelashes comes blurriness for the top half of whatever you can see. You sigh, a white puff of condensation hanging in the air as evidence of your exhale, and move your hand out from in between your thighs to wipe away the tears from your lashes haphazardly.

You don’t bother to put your hand back in between your thighs, instead just resting it on top of your knee. Despite it only having been around fifteen minutes since you were thrown into the freezer, you’re starting to feel more fatigued and your breath slows down significantly, as does your heartbeat.

Another ten minutes of doing nothing but staring at the wall opposite of your own pass by, and disorientation is starting to set in. You feel oddly forgetful—like at times, you forget how you even got into the freezer, and have to wrack your brain to remember that you literally got thrown into it and are now trapped in here until someone rescues you. Assuming they do. Who was it that would even rescue you?

You think long and hard for a few seconds, and can scrounge up nothing from your confused mind. You let out a frustrated huff and let your head tilt and fall forward so that your forehead is resting atop your knee, another shiver ripping through your frame. It almost feels like it’s getting colder in the fridge.

Suddenly, you hear a loud banging noise—albeit, it sounded more muffled to your ears, but you could tell it was loud—and guns being fired.

You can’t really tell when the gunfire dies down, but you can tell when the thumping of someone’s boots grows louder and closer to the door of the freezer. You try to stand up, not really knowing why since you’re in no condition to fight, having been in a freezer for about forty minutes, but you still attempt to.

You find that standing is extremely difficult after practically being frozen alive for the past forty minutes, because as soon as you try to even push yourself off of the ground with your shaky hands, you discover that you aren’t even strong enough to push yourself up a single inch before having to stop. As well as that, you find that the ground is just as freezing as the walls and air of the freezer, because your hands now ached with frostbite.

The action causes an unexpected wave of exhaustion to roll over you, and you pant to try and catch your breath, breathing white puffs of condensation out into the air.

You hear a loud bang against the door, and jump at the sound, your head whipping towards the door. You hear another loud noise, and the confused fog that’s taken over your mind only grows thicker, your disorientation only growing stronger with it. The room feels like it’s spinning, and the feeling reminds you of a word, and you know what the word is, but fuck, why don’t you know it at the same time? Why can’t I remember anything?

There’s another bang, and you hear muffled cursing before suddenly the door bursts open, a man wearing a skull mask stumbling in after it does so—he probably ran into it to open it, you think, watching the man get his balance back. He looks around for a moment before his eyes land on you, and the moment they do, you finally remember something.

That’s Ghost.

Somewhere in your confusion-clouded mind, you’re happy that you’ve finally remembered something. But right now, you can’t really think about anything—your mind is blank, and you can barely even process what you’re seeing.

You’re so caught up in thinking about the fact that you aren’t really thinking, you’re just focusing a little more on whatever’s going on in your mind and not actually retaining any of it, that you don’t even notice Ghost rushing towards you and kneeling down right next to you.

He pauses for a moment, but after a second he makes the decision to put one hand behind your back and snake one under your legs, the warm physical touch making you wince. Not that you didn’t like the warmth—you just didn’t like the sudden temperature change beneath your knees and across your back.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” Ghost grunts as he picks you up, one arm under your knees and the other behind your back, lifting you up into a sort of bridal carry. He nearly drops you because of how cold your skin is—for a moment he thinks your back and legs are wet, then he realizes that no, they aren’t wet, you’re just really fucking cold.

He takes a moment to make sure you’re secure in his arms before tilting his head to the side, all the way down to his shoulder, and muttering something into his earpiece. Despite being so close to him, his voice only sounds muffled to you—in all honesty, just about everything is starting to sound more muffled to you. You can only tell he’s done talking because he lifts his head back up and readjusts his arms around you, before walking out the busted-open door.

The walking quickly turns into running, which then turns into sprinting, making your surroundings go blurry and makes your vertigo worse—it almost feels like you’re falling. You’re grateful you haven’t eaten anything in the past few hours, because you fear that if you had, you would’ve thrown it all up by now. All you can see are blurred colors—the hallways, you vaguely remember, because I’m in a building. How’d I even get here? Why am I here? You’re pulled out of your confused thoughts when you’re set down on the ground somewhere, and forced into a lying position with your limbs all outstretched. When you slowly blink up at what you thought was the ceiling, you’re both surprised and not surprised when you see the blue-black night sky.

Not sure of what’s going on, you try to get up, but Ghost quickly pushes you back down, muttering something under his breath. He pauses for a moment, his blurred figure stopping any and all movements, before he suddenly picks you back up, making you wince at the way your head spins at the sudden movement. You hear a quiet, muffled—but clearer than before—’sorry’ from Ghost before he’s running again.

It’s a much shorter distance this time, and instead of immediately setting you down, you hear something click and suddenly you hear another muffled voice. They sound concerned, you mentally note, Or maybe confused. Maybe both, actually. No yeah, definitely both. Well, now just concerned. Or maybe that’s confused.

Caught up in your confused thoughts, you don’t realize that you’re being set down on a few comfy seats. You aren’t pulled away from your own thoughts until you feel two warm hands cupping either side of your jaw, and hear Ghost’s oddly distressed voice becoming more clear by the second. You now acknowledge the weird ringing in your ears that almost drown out the sound of Ghost, and struggle to figure out what he’s saying through the annoying noise.

“—something,” You catch the end of Ghost’s sentence, and blink up at him slowly.

“Huh?” You elegantly ask, coughing and wincing at your hoarse voice, not knowing how it got so hoarse—or why it hurt so much to talk. Your throat almost felt like it was burning, but it also felt oddly numb, a sensation you couldn’t quite put a name on.

“Oh my god,” Ghost sighs, his forehead falling onto your chest momentarily as he takes a few deep breaths. He brings his head back up from your chest and says, “I almost thought you were dead when I got in there. Jesus, you look dead. I need to— I need to get something, a blanket or— why the fuck don’t we carry any heat packs or anything in here? Swear to God, I’m gonna—” You don’t pay too much attention to Ghost’s panicked ranting and shift your head to the side to try and look at where you are, and you discover that you’re in a car. Oh. Cool. You spot the door on the passenger seat’s side still open and swinging a bit, as if it’d been opened quickly just a few moments earlier for someone to quickly get out.

Ghost suddenly backs up and gets out of the car, though staying within a foot of it, looking around for a moment before heading to the back of the car. Your head clears up the tiniest bit, just enough for you to be able to assume that he’s heading to the back of the car to get to the trunk for whatever reason, and you simply lie there on the seat cushions.

A few seconds later, Ghost comes back with a somewhat-fluffy jacket, and carefully gets into the car—half kneeling down so that he doesn’t need to lean on the seats to get to you. He tosses the coat over your chest, and it does absolutely nothing at first, at least not until Ghost gets a bit closer and tucks the coat tighter around you, treating it like a blanket. Then, it starts to warm you up just the tiniest bit. Beyond that, it does absolutely nothing. But props to Ghost for at least trying.

He quickly backs out of the car and once he’s out he closes the door behind him, and you want to get up for a moment, just to go see what he’s doing, but you don’t have to. He gets into the car again, this time in the driver’s seat, and he turns on the ignition. Once the car rumbles to life, he immediately turns up the heat and leans over to the passenger seat’s side in order to close the door, and with a grunt he manages to do so.

The newfound heat makes you shiver, and it almost feels like you’re in a microwave defrosting. Distracted by the sudden temperature change, you don’t pay attention to what Ghost is saying into his earpiece as he glances out the front window of the car and back at you. You simply tug the jacket tighter around your torso and relish in the warmth.

“—ay. So we’ll just leave then, and you’ll be fine?” You pick up from Ghost’s conversation, perking up at the mention of leaving, “Copy that, Captain. I’ll get them back to base.”

‘Captain’—Oh, he’s talking to Price—says something that makes Ghost sigh exasperatedly and take his index finger off of his earpiece, instead settling both of his hands on the steering wheel of the car and stealing one last glance at you before setting his eyes on the gravel ahead of him and pushing down on the gas pedal.

—

When you wake up, you’re significantly warmer than you were… however-long-it’s-been-ago.

You look to your left and see nothing but a white wall and a heart rate monitor—which displays that your heart rate is 115—then to your right, where you see Ghost sitting in a plastic chair close to the bed you’re laying in, eyes closed with his head tilted to the side and resting on his own shoulder.

You don’t bother trying to wake him up, not knowing how long he’s been asleep or how much sleep he’s gotten, and instead simply turn your head back to stare up at the ceiling.

After maybe five minutes of zoning out and staring up at the ceiling, you hear clothes rustling and look back over to your right, seeing Ghost start to stir in his sleep. Just a few seconds later, he stirs awake, slowly blinking his eyes open.

You watch silently as he blinks the sleep out of his eyes, and he breathes in sharply through his nose before looking over at you and seeing you staring at him wordlessly. You both blink at each other for a long, awkward moment before he speaks.

“… Did you, uh… how was your… rest?” Ghost asks, not sure what to say. What exactly do you say, after saving one of your teammates from potential death?

“Good,” You respond, your throat having an odd, small burning sensation when you talk.

Ghost looks like he’s holding back a few words for a moment after you speak, and after one expectant look from you, he mumbles, “You should really say ‘well’ or ‘fine’ instead. It’d be more grammatically accurate and is more grammatically aligned with the verb ‘rest’.”

“… Okay?” You blink, thrown off by the unexpected information, “I’ll, uh… keep that in mind, next time someone asks me how my rest was.”

“You get asked that often?”

“I only get asked that by you.”

“Ah.” Ghost nods, looking off to the side for a moment. You’d think he was your dad and you’d just asked him how babies were made with how awkward he was, and you honestly expected the next words out of his mouth to be ‘when a man and a woman love each other very much’ before he hesitantly asks, “D’you feel better? After the whole being-trapped-in-a-freezer… experience?”

“Experience?” You question, a light laugh evident in your voice, “Yeah, I feel better. I like being warm more than, y’know, being frozen alive. Laying down in a warm bed is nice.”

“I didn’t know how else to phrase it,” Ghost huffs out, leaning back in his seat.

“So you’re gonna correct me on my grammar but you can’t think of a better word than ‘experience’?”

“Don’t get smart with me, [c/n].”

“I’m just saying,” You shrug lightly, wincing a little when your shoulders ache as you do. Ghost notices this and his eyes narrow, but he doesn’t mention it.

“Then stop trying to sass me.”

“Sass you? Jesus, fuck, don’t talk to me like I’m some preteen who just found out that they can talk back to their parents.”

“Isn’t that what you are, though?”

“No, I’m— you know what? Fuck you. Get out. I hate you. You suck.”

“That’s a colorful choice of words to say to the man who saved your life,” Ghost raises an eyebrow at you, “I’m still waiting for my ‘thank you’, by the way.”

“Don’t care, you’re never getting it,” You say stubbornly, making Ghost sigh and stand up. You look up at him as he stands up and try to sit up in your bed, but wince again when you try to move your arms. Still, you attempt to push yourself up, and only relax your weak joints and lay back down when Ghost presses a gentle hand to your shoulder to get you to stop trying to sit up.

“Don’t,” He warns softly—you didn’t know his voice could get that soft—as he pushes you back down, “Medics said you’re to keep laying down for a bit while you warm up. We’ve gotta wait until your BPM is below a hundred before letting you up.”

“That’s stupid,” You huff out, though not fighting Ghost pushing you back down.

“It’s not stupid,” Ghost lightly chastises you, “It’s doctor’s orders. Once your BPM is below a hundred, we’ll know you’re warmed up enough to start gettin’ up and walking around.”

“… Still stupid,” You grumble, not commenting on the way Ghost’s hand lingers on your shoulder even after you’ve already laid back down. Ghost sighs and kneels down so that his shoulders are level with the railing of your bed.

“You’re too stubborn.”

“I’m not.”

“Yes you are.”

“No I’m not!” Your light arguing only proves Ghost’s point further, and he knows this, the knowledge of it making him snicker quietly.

“Uh huh. Sure, kid,” He begins to retract his hand from your shoulder, but upon seeing the disappointment that immediately seeps into your expression once he even barely begins to lift his hand from your shoulder, he immediately lets it rest right back onto your shoulder.

You both sit in silence for another few moments before Ghost speaks up again, this time a bit quieter and in that same soft tone he’d used earlier, “I tried to get to you quicker. But we needed some time to get your exact location, and when we found it we were a hundred and sixty klicks away, and it was just—it took us… some time to find you.”

“It’s fine. I understand,” You respond, about to shrug but stopping yourself, not wanting to feel that aching in your shoulders again, “I don’t even know how I let myself get captured, that— that’s probably on me.”

“You didn’t let yourself get captured, you just did.”

“Well…”

“Well, what?”

“I don’t know, I just—” You take a deep breath before continuing slowly, “I didn’t let myself get captured, but I also didn’t do enough to fight against it, so I feel like technically—”

“Fuck the technicalities about how you got captured, you got captured either way, and you got thrown into a freezer,” Ghost cuts you off, talking quickly, before sighing and continuing in a softer voice once again, “Please, just let me try to be somewhat comforting for once. You know I’m bad at this, and that I never do this. So just… don’t talk about what happened like that, if not for your own mental health’s sake, at least for my attempts at making you feel better.”

You open your mouth to say something else but ultimately close your mouth and let out a deep sigh through your nose, not saying anything, letting Ghost continue to talk.

“I, for whatever reason, feel… very oddly bad for you,” Ghost poorly explains, before pausing to think for a moment then rephrasing, “Not… not as in I pity you, but as in I feel bad for you in a way that I feel like I’m at fault for what you went through even though I know I’m not at fault. It’s like empathy but… worse. Not saying empathy is bad to begin with, but this is like if empathy was bad and it became worse and—”

Ghost cuts himself off with silence and lets out a frustrated huff at his inability to put his feelings into words, and tries again, “I feel bad for you in a way that I don’t know what exactly you felt or how you felt in the moment that you were in that freezer but just the idea of you being in there without me for… I’m assuming an entire hour, if not longer, makes me feel like I failed. I don’t know what I failed at—”

Ghost quickly pauses before sighing and continuing, “Actually, no, I do. I feel like I failed at protecting you. Which is strange, because that’s technically not my job, but I felt—and still feel—obligated to protect you especially and that bothers me. Not bothers me in a sense that I don’t like you or the thought of… protecting you, but bothers me in the sense that I’m not supposed to feel like that. No amount of teasing, or borderline bullying, or anything should’ve ever made me feel obligated to think of you like— like— like…” Ghost trails off, leaving you wondering what he meant to say. He stays silent for a few moments, before you try to fill in for him.

“Like… what, a kid?” You offer, watching him shake his head negatively. You think for another moment, before trying again, “… Like your kid?”

Ghost nods affirmatively, hesitantly, and you want to scoff at the hesitation.

“And what, that’s bad to you?” You ask, your words more venomous than you intended. Ghost sighs and nonverbally shakes his head negatively before responding to you.

“Not bad in the way you’re thinking,” He answers, before elaborating upon seeing your confused expression, “It’s bad not because you’re bad, it’s bad because I’m bad.”

“… No you’re not?”

“Yes, I am.”

“No, you’re really not,” You insist stubbornly.

“Please don’t be stubborn with me on this,” His tone makes it sound like he’s almost begging you, which is… somehow beyond terrifying to think about.

“I’m not being stubborn, I’m being honest, you’re really not.”

“But I am,” He sounds like he’s trying to make his tone sound like there’s no room for any further arguments, but he fails, and you continue to argue with him.

“No you’re not!” The whole conversation feels like a parallel to the one you’d both been having just a few minutes earlier, except this time you’re not giving up as easily, “How are you bad?”

“I’m—” Ghost pauses for a moment, not having expected that argument, and he weakly argues, “I just am!”

“You’re not, and you fucking know it!”

“Okay, well—” Ghost sighs and looks away from you, “You might not think so. That’s fine. But I know I am. If not for anything else, for you. I’d be… terrible as any sort of… I don’t know, role model to you.”

“Jokes on you, you’re already a role model to me.”

“I’m being serious.”

“So am I,” You raise an eyebrow at him, “You aren’t a terrible role model. A little emo, sure, but not terrible.”

“I’m emotionally and mentally unstable, and am terrible with empathy. I’m blunt, abrasive more than half the time, and I tell the shittiest jokes known to man. I can’t— I don’t show my face to anyone. I expect everyone to act the way I want them to. I’m almost always busy.”

“At least you’re self-aware,” You brush off, “And, for the record, I don’t know what abrasive means and I can’t tell empathy from sympathy without using Google.”

Ghost looks back at you in disbelief and stares for a moment before saying quietly, “Abrasive means harsh. And empathy is showing understanding for others while sympathy is pity.”

“I also like your shitty jokes,” You add on, “I think they’re great. They make everyone else mad so I like them. And some of them are funny.”

“You find them funny?”

“Yeah?”

“That’s…” Ghost blinks at you, eyes a little watery, before huffing out a small laugh, “That’s ridiculous, none of them are funny. I call them shitty for a reason.”

“Some of them are pretty funny.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

“The Mayflower one.”

“… That one?” Ghost asks, tone humorous but still disbelieving, “Out of all the ones I’ve told, that one?”

“Yes, that one,” You insist, before pausing and holding back a smile while tacking on, “Unless you wanna tell it again to try and change my mind?”

Ghost thinks for a moment before telling the joke, “If April showers bring May flowers, what do Mayflowers bring?”

You feign cluelessness for a moment, “What do they bring?”

“Pilgrims.” The bluntness of the delivery makes you quietly snicker, much to Ghost’s surprise, the laugh not forced or anything.

“It’s still good,” You sigh, small giggles still escaping your lips.

“It’s really not,” Ghost sighs, finally retracting his hand from your shoulder to settle it on the railing of your bed and use it to help himself stand up. Once he fully stands up, he looks down at you, and one look at your face makes him want to whisk you out of bed and at least hug you, but he knows he can’t with your sore muscles and still-somewhat frozen skin.

Instead, he opts for grabbing one of your hands gently and giving it a very emotionally charged squeeze, and holding it for another few moments before letting go.

“I’m not forgetting that, by the way,” At Ghost’s confused eyes, you tack on, “You confirming earlier that you think of me as your kid.”

“That—” Ghost stammers for a moment before saying, “That was barely a confirmation, that was just— that was nothing.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes. Yeah. Yep.”

“So if I told you that you saying that that was nothing is making me a little bit upset…”

“… Then I would say, out of pity, that I did mean it and that it was a confirmation.”

“Good to know,” You nod.

“But that’s only a hypothetical.”

“Right, yeah, of course.”

You both stay silent for another moment, the silence now a little less awkward, before Ghost says, “I’m gonna, uh… head out, now.”

“Alright,” You hum simply, watching as Ghost nods to you as a sort of ‘bye’ before heading towards the curtains in front of your bed.

Before he can exit, you quickly and quietly say, “Thank you, for saving me.”

He pauses, a little confused on why you chose now to thank him—and why you thanked him at all—until he quickly recalls earlier in the conversation when he’d mentioned expecting some words of gratitude.

He smiles behind his mask, the smile evident in his voice as he replies to you, “No problem.”

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storytowrite · 3 months ago

Text

|You will always be mine ~ Lee Minho series|

PART 2

Paring: Minho x Y/N

Genre: smut, angst, university au

Word count: 942

Warnings: sex, 18+, Minho is a psycho, dom!Minho, sub!reader, abuse, slight BDSM, kidnapping, violence, age gap, Minho is an university professor, Y/N can be hurt physically (and mentally too I guess).

Synopsis: Who knew that accidental fuck in the club bathroom with a handsome man will bring you to a lot of unexpected events.

Author's note: I kept this series for a really long time not sure if I want to post it or not, but I decided to do it anyway, so I hope you'll like it.

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Monday. The beginning of the week, the end of the weekend and the end of freedom. It was a sunny day. You woke up in the morning, the sun's rays streaming through the slightly tattered blinds. You had meant to fix them a long time ago, but you could never find the time. Your parents always told you to take care of such things right away because it would only get harder to gather the motivation later, but who listens to what parents say?

You got out of bed and stretched. Time to get ready for classes. You thought. You took off the oversized shirt you used as pajamas and put on a black lingerie set. Standing in front of the mirror, you admired how the bra emphasized your breasts. You examined your reflection. The love bites left by the guy from the Saturday party had almost disappeared; apparently, he hadn't bitten you as hard as you initially thought.

You put on a black top and dark jeans. You tied your brown hair into a high ponytail and applied light makeup. Then, grabbed your bag and left the apartment. Ever since you started university, you lived on your own. Your parents had a house on the outskirts of the city, and you didn't see them very often.

On your way to the university, you stopped by a café, where, as always, bought coffee and a croissant. Sipping your fresh latte, you entered the university campus. Soon, your classes were about to begin. You headed towards the lecture hall, lost in your thoughts.

"Y/N!" Suddenly you heard a familiar voice from the end of the corridor.

"Oh, hi Woo, so you did manage to transfer after all." You smiled at your friend. "You didn't mention on Saturday that you were starting your classes here today."

"Yeah, I know..." The guy gave you a genuine smile. "I didn't want to brag until I was sure it would work out. Do you happen to know where room 214 is? This place is like a maze."

"Mhm... it's right above us, on the floor next to the men's bathroom" You replied and took a sip of your coffee.

"Oh, great! Thanks!" He grinned at you. "I'm off to class. See you later, Y/N!" He said cheerfully and walked away, leaving you alone.

You just sighed and headed to the lecture room, sipping your coffee along the way. You were almost about to enter the classroom when someone bumped into you, spilling coffee on your blouse.

"Hey! Watch where you're going!" You snapped.

"Because it's my fault, right?" You heard in response and rolled your eyes.

"Can't you walk properly, Lisa?" You asked sharply, taking out tissues from your bag.

"It's not my fault you're blocking the way!" Lisa replied, tossing her hair and strutting toward her desk like a model.

You rolled your eyes. Lisa used to be your friend, but now she was your biggest enemy at the university and beyond. The two of you stopped getting along in sixth grade when Lisa accused you of stealing. Since then, Lisa took every opportunity to make your life miserable. Unfortunately, fate brought the both of you to the same major at the university.

With a quiet sigh, you took your usual spot by the wall, in the third row from the end, where you could easily do everything except take notes. You hated art history lectures. They bored you, and on top of that, the lecturer was old and spoke too slowly to focus.

You glanced at your watch. Strange. You thought. The lecture should have started a long time ago. You looked around the room. Other students also seemed to wonder where the professor was. He usually arrived five minutes early, and now ten minutes had passed since the lecture should have begun, and he still hadn't shown up. Some students started packing up and preparing to leave. Some were already standing up, when suddenly the door opened, and a quite short man entered the room, who was by no means their lecturer.

"Dear students, the class hasn't ended yet. Please take your seats." He spoke up and placed his folder on the desk before leaning against it. He casually rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt, with the top two buttons undone. He looked much younger than their usual lecturer, and he was much more handsome. "My name is Lee Minho. You can call me Mr. Lee." He introduced himself. "I'll be substituting for Mr. Kang until the end of the year as he has some personal reasons preventing him from continuing to teach this subject." He informed the students. "At the end of the class, please sign your names on this list." He added, placing a white sheet of paper on the desk. "Shall we begin?" He asked, looking around the room.

You observed the man closely. His black pants perfectly accentuated his muscular thighs. The white shirt tucked into his lower garment gently hugged his torso. His dark hair was slightly tousled by the wind. He wore glasses, which added some seriousness to his appearance. He looked intimidating, yet his voice was gentle. You recognized that voice… Your eyes met. You stared into his dark brown eyes and froze. It was the same man with whom you had sex in the club's restroom a few days ago. Shock painted across your face.

"What the fu..." you covered her mouth before you could utter the last word. You knew that if anyone found out about what had happened between you and the lecturer on Saturday, you would be in trouble.

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<- Part 1 | Part 3 ->

-> Series Masterlist

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Taglist: @yaorzu-blog, @iovecb97, @hpnsfwaddict

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soolh1k · 2 years ago

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Skz ghosting you ! (pt 2)

notes: english is not my first language so apologies for any misspelling or grammar. i hope u like it !! :))) this is only the hyung line

type: text post | narrated text

genre: kinda angsty but w fluff

WARNINGS: swearing, a little bit angsty, let me know if you'd like me to tag u :)

Hyung Line pt1 | Maknae Line pt1

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ೋ Christopher Bang

Your heart ached. You knew he hadn't intentionally ignored you, but he did anyway. You really didn't know what to do. Maybe it had been a little immature to leave home without saying anything, but what he did wasn't very mature either.

Your head was a mess. You simply wanted to disappear from the face of the earth. You felt so many things at that moment. It was clear that you still loved him and would continue to do so for a long time. But if he had already hurt you once, what assured you that he wouldn't do it again? You were simply afraid. Maybe not only Chris was the problem, but both of you.

You had to return to his arms. It was clear. Despite the fear you had, the love you had for him was greater.

The doorbell rang throughout the apartment, catching Chris' attention. He quickly went to the door, hoping it was you on the other side. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and opened the door. A few minutes passed in which only you and he looked into each other's eyes, as if you thought it was all a dream.

"Hello, Chris," you said to break that eye contact.

"Oh my god, you're here, love. I thought I had lost you completely," a sad tone escaped his voice. He gently took your wrist and ushered you into his apartment, so you could talk comfortably.

"I also thought I had lost you, Chris. I really did, and it hurt like you have no idea. Every day without you is hell," you started to tell him, pain evident in your voice. "But it also hurt that you ignored me. You know I understand how complicated your job is, especially being the leader. I admire you so much. However, your job has been driving us apart for months. I don't want you to stop doing what you love because I know it makes you happy, and that makes me happy too. Clearly, I'm not going to make you choose between me and your work. That would be stupid. Can you just promise me something, Chan?" you asked, on the verge of tears. He was lost in his thoughts, realizing the damage he had been causing for months. Was he really that oblivious?

"Chris?" you called out to him, pulling him out of his thoughts.

"Darling, I would do anything for you. I wouldn't even have to think twice if I were given a choice between you and my work. You've always been my priority, and forgive me for not showing it. You're my everything. I shouldn't have neglected you from the beginning. You're the person who has always been there for me, supporting me in every decision I make, giving me love at every moment. I don't want you to leave. I want you here with me. I promise I'll change," your loved one replied almost instantly, shedding tears in the process.

"Chris, listen to me first," was your response to his heartfelt speech.

"Baby, please. I don't want us to end," he whined.

"Chris, listen to me," you repeated.

"I don't want to. If you're going to break up with me, I don't want to hear it."

"Christopher, I love you with all my being. I'm not going to break up with you. I just want you to promise me that you won't ignore me like that again. If I'm your priority, then love me as if it's the last thing you could do. Please."

"I promise, but never leave," he whispered as he hugged you.

"I'll never leave, Darling," you whispered back.

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ೋ Lee Minho

One missed call after another, Minho had been looking for you for days, but it seemed like you wouldn't be returning anytime soon, which was tearing Lino apart. It was never his intention to hurt you; you would always be the only person he loved, so he couldn't let you walk away from him. Why did he have to ruin things? Everything was going so well, so why did he leave you without any specific reason? He felt like the worst person in the world.

All he needed right now was to find you and resolve things between you. He crossed seas and lands to locate you, only to find out that you were staying with your best friend since she couldn't find you at your apartment. He knocked on your friend's apartment door and waited patiently for it to open.

Your friend opened the door, visibly tired of seeing you in distress and falling into a depressive state because of the issue. She hadn't even realized that you had been sending messages.

"Please, fix things with her. She's been going through a really tough time," your friend told Minho.

"Believe me, I want to fix things with her." She simply nodded and let him go, informing him of your whereabouts. He quickly made his way to you.

"Angel, thank God you're okay. I was so worried," he exclaimed as he recognized your voice.

"Minho, what are you doing here?" you asked, upset, not because he was present, but because you looked terrible.

"I need to make things right with you, bunny. I messed up big time, and I can't express how sorry I am. You're the best partner I've ever had, and I don't want things to end between us. I need you in my life; you're the only thing that brings me happiness. I understand if you can't forgive what I did, but please, give me another chance," he said with so much pain, almost on the verge of tears.

"Minho, to be honest, I'm hurt by what you did, and I don't understand why. I thought everything was fine between us." Now you were the one on the verge of tears.

"I'll be honest with you because I love you. I was afraid, afraid that you would be hurt because of my work. The other day, Felix showed me everything they were saying about the girlfriend of an idol, and at that moment, I started thinking about what would happen if they found out about us. Would they hurt you like that? I didn't want to allow that, so I started to withdraw into my thoughts. I wanted to protect you, and my first instinct was to stay away so that those hurtful comments would never reach you. But I can't, I love you so much that my heart won't let me stay away. I'm sorry; I just wanted to protect you, but I did it in the worst way." The love of your life couldn't stop crying, and with everything he told you, you realized that neither of you was the problem.

"Why are you like this? Why do I have to love you so much, Minho? Come here, from now on, things will be better. We just need to talk about it, okay? Nothing will separate us. I love you so much," you reassured him and planted a tender kiss on his cheek.

"I love you too. I'm sorry," he replied, hugging you tightly.

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ೋ Seo Changbin

Changbin didn't even dare to go home after what he did. He had truly hurt you, and he didn't know how to fix it. How could he have been so stupid? Did he distance himself from you just because he loved you? Wasn't that ridiculous? What was he doing with his life? Why wasn't he going to look for you? Those were some of the questions swirling in his mind at night. Lately, insomnia had prevented him from sleeping. He had been having sleepless nights, and every day away from you made him feel dead.

Chris advised him to go look for you before it was too late, but he already felt like a coward and firmly refused. It wasn't until Chan opened his eyes completely that he gave him a hypothetical situation where you both broke up in the worst possible way, even inventing that you could hate him. That day ended with him crying oceans, but with a clear mind, he knew what he had to do. He couldn't fail you once again, so he made his excuses and ran to his apartment. He had to apologize properly, he had to show you how much he loved you, that he would never hurt you again, and he wanted you to know that.

You were finishing up dinner, hoping that today your boyfriend would show up. You missed him so much and didn't want things to end badly between you. You didn't want to break up with him or for him to break up with you. You loved him too much, although you were afraid. He said he was afraid to love you. Was it because of something you did? Were you just a game to him? Why did this have to be happening, and why to you? You thought he really liked you, but his actions showed otherwise. Maybe it was all a bet, and being so naive, you gave him everything. You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn't even realize someone was knocking on the door.

"I'm coming!" you yelled as a warning, and you headed to the door and opened it. When you saw who was at the door, all you could do was sigh in disbelief.

"Sorry," was the first thing you heard from the person you had been waiting for so long. You couldn't even react when you felt him embrace you.

"I'm an idiot, forgive me. I don't know why I was scared," you began to hear small sobs, and that's when you realized Changbin was crying. So you let him in, offered him some water, and tried to calm him down.

"Tesoro, it's okay, don't worry, alright?" you reassured him, but he only became more agitated.

"Honey, it's not okay at all. It's not okay to ignore you or make you feel bad. I had no reason to be afraid of loving you. It's just the first time someone has made me feel this way, and it was pure panic because I didn't want to lose you, honey. I didn't want my insecurities to affect you, but I think that's all I did. God, I'm such a fool. Please forgive me." So it wasn't you, not a bet, none of that. It was just how you made him feel.

"Oh my god, I thought you didn't love me because you didn't like me. Tesoro, the next time you feel like that, just tell me. We can solve things in a better way. Don't doubt how much I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

"I love you, and I'm not afraid to say it. Please don't hate me. I want to be the man you spend the rest of your life with," he told you before giving you a small kiss.

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ೋ Hwang Hyunjin

You knew how closed off he could be. At the beginning of your relationship, it was also very difficult to get him to communicate his feelings with you. It was as if someone had hurt him, and he continued to have the constant fear of talking to you and getting hurt. But it's clear that he knows you wouldn't do such a thing. It's clear that you are the love of his life. No one has ever evoked such feelings in him. Even in his worst moments, he was sure you wouldn't leave so easily. But he needed to meet you to solve his problems. He became so happy and relieved when you sent him an address, telling him to meet you there in 15 minutes.

"Did I make you wait for too long?" he heard behind him, startling him a little.

"No! Of course not. I would wait as long as needed for you, Belle," he said, getting up to greet you. He pulled out your chair, waited for you to sit, and then sat down himself.

"I missed you so much, Hyunnie," you said, looking outside, avoiding eye contact.

"I'm sorry. I don't know what happened to me. My mind just wouldn't let me do anything. It was like I ceased to exist for a couple of days. I didn't talk to anyone, literally, not even the guys. I know I should have told you that I wasn't feeling well to avoid worrying you, but I truly couldn't. I didn't even want to look at my phone. Nothing was motivating me," he said, his head down, afraid to see your reaction.

"Handsome, don't worry about that. I just want to know why you're feeling like this," you understood that he hadn't been okay with himself lately, so he couldn't be okay with anyone else until he resolved his internal conflicts.

"Oh God, if I say it, I'm going to start crying, Belle."

"And I'll be here to comfort you, my love. Please, talk to me."

"Everything they say about me on social media, they hate me so much, and I can't stand it. Do you hate me?" you could hear the brokenness in his voice.

"Of course not. I could never hate you, Hyunjin. You're the most precious person in my life and probably in the lives of many others. Don't pay attention to them. Those people are just filled with envy. They're jealous because they can't be you. Literally, they're sitting at home, commenting stupid things, while you're touring the world. They're just bitter. So don't listen to them. Many of your fans are doing everything they can to make all of you happy. I love you, okay?" you assured him, taking his hand and kissing it.

"I'm truly sorry. I love you so much. Like I said, I'm yours, and I'll continue to be for the rest of my life. Please love me the same way. Stay with me. In the future, be my wife," Hyunjin declared, looking directly into your eyes.

"I love you like no one else in this world, Hyunjin. In the future, let's be happier than ever."

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Tags !!

@albaficaslover

@marcillfll

@str4wb3rryc0ww

@damselettism

#skz angst #skz imagines #skz reactions #skz stay #skz x reader #skz fluff #skz changbin #skz bang chan #skz hyunjin #skz hyung line #skz minho #skz texts #skz scenarios #skz series

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misskattylashes · 3 months ago

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Okay inspired by @thetruthisfictional post about Milex patterns. I thought I would share some observations I have made in my autistic pattern seeking brain.

I am only looking at the post EYCTE period to the present day, and not everything is in chronological order.

Louise

Louise started to appear around the same time Miles decided to move back to the UK permanently. Rather than Alex split with Taylor, there are rumours of him cheating on her with Louise, creating a reason for him to want to leave LA. It is also a convenient narrative because Miles and Taylor were friends, so the reason that Miles and Alex can’t be seen together is because Miles doesn’t like Louise because of what she did to his friend Taylor.

Which means Alex can come home to London, without it looking obvious that he is following Miles.

Plothole – the reason for his return is so Louise can split her time between London and Paris to pursue her ‘successful music career’. The truth has since emerged that Louise lives in Paris and Alex lives in London and Louise has no career to speak of.

Louise’s use of social media

A genuine social media account will post day to day happenings, even not every day. Shared songs, interesting meals, something work related. Louise’s posting only ever coincided with events happening around AM. Go and check her account sometime, see how much she posted around the summer of 2022 leading up to the release of The Car. Note also how she has posted every September 21 since 2021 which also coincides with the day she was officially announced in September 2018.

Songwriting

Since EYCTE Alex has not used one female pronoun in a romantic sense. Miles barely has either, nothing to the degree of the previous two albums.

Alex’s image

This is so carefully protected. Most recent photographs were taken several days or even weeks before. Alex is usually in his ‘costume’. One of the most questionable being the recent Eurostar ones. He was sitting there so obviously being ‘Alex Turner’ but the only people who recognise him are a couple of fans who happen to have professional equipment. I suspect there are all sorts of clever wizardry and facial recognition software going on in Meta that stops unfamiliar photos of Alex being published. Before you say ‘How can they do that?’ think about times you may have uploaded a song only for the sound to immediately disappear or you get a message with the list of territories it can’t be played in. This happens in seconds so the technology is there.

The train photos fitted a convenient narrative. Just after Alex was seen coming home from Paris, Louise is seen in the Caribbean with her family. We then get a recent of Alex in NY. Louise comes home from the Caribbean to Paris, but then makes sure to tell us she is going to NY, we then get the pap walk etc.

Why are we never allowed to see Alex walking along Bethnal Green High Street or in the pub with Miles? I think this is less to do with record company pressure and more to do with Alex wanting to keep his private life private.

Miles’ use of social media

Last year when AM were in the UK, I would notice that days Alex was on a break, we would hear nothing from Miles. You might get one official post about OMB that was clearly posted from his social media team. But stories would be empty.

Once Alex went to the US in late August, many a night we were treated to tipsy Miles chatting to the TV, or filming little Maxie getting up to mischief in the house. Soon as Alex came home it stopped.

Earlier this year Miles started the late night posting again and filming Maxie. Lo and behold a few days later we get pics of Alex in NY. Soon as he comes home, it stops again.

Another thing I have noticed. When Miles posts videos he always puts the photographer's name. But he occasionally only puts an 👀. These will always appear when Alex isn’t seen elsewhere.

There are probably many more but I will probably do a part 2.

#please share your own observations #alex turner #miles kane #milex #post EYCTE

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rafyki · 5 months ago

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Goth! Nico/ Surfer! Percy AU Part 9!

I'm back!! I hope you missed me as much as I missed posting lmao This chapter wasn't planned honestly, I wanted to write directly their beach 'date', but then this happened and I decided it's gonna be one more chapter before the date - sorry xD I bet y'all are tired of this slow burn, but i promise they're gonna get together soon!

(I hope the texting format is easy to read here on tumblr, but otherwise you can read it on AO3)

Enjoy~

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

You can also read it on AO3!!

~~~

Percy: Ehi, Nico! You have the afternoon shift tomorrow, right? Let’s hang out at the beach again after it?

Me: Percy, hi!

Me: So you really do know all my shift hours, huh?

Percy: What can i say, Im a great obsever

Me: Huh, are you?

Percy: For important things at least

Percy: so is that a yes?

Me: of course

Me: No need to tell you what time I finish, I guess

Percy: nope

Percy: 20ish right?

Me: yeah

Me: see you tomorrow?

Percy: yep

Percy: see you tmorrow!

Nico had been rereading the conversation for the best part of the previous night, and the first thing he had done after waking up had been checking his phone once again to make sure he hadn’t just made it up in his dreams. He knew the short exchange by heart now, yet he kept staring at it, reading it over and over again. Part of himself was afraid it would disappear if he so much as locked his phone and looked away for a second too long.

Their chance meeting at the beach three days prior still felt like a waking dream, like he had hoped so much for something like that to happen that he had started hallucinating. He wondered if hallucinations always felt so real, if they would let you to feel the water splashing against your legs, the warmth of the setting sun on your skin, or the pressure of a hand holding yours, the touch soft and warm, everything and more Nico had let himself dreaming about for the past months. The way Percy had smiled at him had been so beautiful that Nico’s mind probably wouldn’t have been able to conjure something like it if it hadn’t been real.

Still, it didn’t feel real.

Leo and Jason would have probably blamed the feeling on Nico’s self sabotaging tendencies. You’re allowed to have nice things, Nico, they would tell him.

Was he? Could he let himself hope that he could really have this? His heart was going berserk in his chest at the sole thought.

Percy had stopped to talk to him at the beach, Percy had taken his hand and held it while walking in the water, Percy had memorized his schedule and asked for his phone number; Percy had texted him first and asked him to hang out again.

For important things at least.

Percy had said that. Important. Nico wanted to scream.

His phone's sudden ringing almost made him jump out of his skin. It was Jason’s number, but it was Leoìs voice that greeted him from the other end of the line.

“Hi there, goth boy, so how ya feeling for your date today?”

“Not a date, Leo, shut up- and why are you calling me with Jason’s phone?”

Of course, Nico’s traitor heart stumbled on the word date. It wasn’t, and he couldn’t simply assume otherwise, it would make things awkward, wouldn’t it? And so far nothing had ever been too awkward with Percy - Nico surely wouldn’t be the one to make everything between them crumbling down for expecting too much.

“Not important-”

“He lost his phone”, came Jason’s voice. “Again. By the way, hi Nico”.

Nico rolled his eyes at their antics. “Hi Jason”.

“Anyway!”, Leo jumped in. “How are you feeling for your ‘not date’ then?”

“I hate you, Valdez”, Nico groaned, letting himself fall backward on his bed. His heart didn’t seem willing to stop running like crazy anytime soon, his hands were sweating from anticipation and tension.

“You’re freaking out, aren’t you?”

He put his phone on speaker just so he could set it aside, take a pillow, and scream into it.

Apparently, his suffering was extremely funny to Leo, because his obnoxious laugh came as a reply. “I’ll take it as a yes”, he said.

“Nico, I’m sure everything’s gonna be great”, Jason said. “You’ll have fun, get to know him better, and then-”

“Then you’ll finally date, hopefully”, Leo finished.

Once again, Nico’s heart skipped a beat and did a little dance in his chest. He threw the pillow aside. “What if I make a fool of myself though?”

“Well, your boy has made a fool of himself plenty of times already, hasn’t he? I mean, he knows your schedule by heart”, Leo replied. “So I’m sure you’ll be fine”.

Jason laughed at that, and after a moment Nico joined him.

~~~

Nico expected his shift at the kiosk to last an eternity, stretching on and on to keep him apart from finally seeing Percy in the evening. And, truth be told, the first couple of hours were just like that, long and boring and way too slow.

It changed when his phone notified him of a new text.

Percy: i got work today so im coming to teh beach latr

Percy: ill meet you at the kiosk!

Nico’s heart was starting to become extremely good at doing somersaults in his chest. There were no customers at that moment, so he had time to reply, his fingers shaking just slightly as he wrote back.

Me: alright, I’ll meet you here then

Me: What time do you finish at work?

Percy: What, you wana learn my scdheule too?

Me: It's only fair, isn’t it?

And so, they ended up texting back and forth for a while and, after that, the time seemed to move faster, the day shining brighter, and Nico’s customers’ smile felt just that tiny bit more honest.

Nico’s internal list of the things he knew about Percy kept growing longer by the minute; he liked to text and wasn’t afraid to double text, his spelling mistakes were so atrocious they left Nico smiling and feeling so endeared it was almost ridiculous.

Nico’s nerves eased with every new text, his heart now beating out of excitement and anticipation more than fear and anxiety. The evening couldn’t come fast enough.

Me: Why are you spending so much time texting me instead of working

Percy: Why, arent you enjoying it :(

Me: not what I said!

Me: i wouldn’t be replying if i weren’t enjoying it

Percy: :D

Percy: im on break anyay

Percy: what abot you, youre also on your phone instead of workin

Me: there aren’t many customers today

Me: no one to buy the same old blue drink

Nico put the phone aside for a moment, hiding his smile behind his hand and hoping that no one would think he was a creepy psycho smiling for no reason. He had every reason to smile. Flirting was easier through text, even if he kept spending minutes on end before forcing himself to press send. The downside of it was that it was way more difficult to avoid it when Percy flirted back.

Percy: aww you miss me?

He wrote and then deleted a reply a few times. He was lucky Jason and Leo weren’t there today to see him being like this or they would have made fun of him for the rest of their lives.

It was strange. Nico was feeling embarrassed, but in an easy lighthearted way, and that made him feel just that little bit braver. Maybe it was because Percy was willingly spending his break texting him instead of whatever else he usually did; maybe it was the fact that he had the feeling Percy was feeling just like him.

He wrote a reply, looked at it for a few seconds and pressed send before he could overthink it too much.

Me: Maybe

Just then, before having the time to send a second text for damage control, a customer came and Nico had to put his phone down to serve them. His heart kept hammering in his chest the whole time, and his eyes kept stealing glances at the phone, hoping to see it ring. It was taking a little longer than usual for Percy to reply, and Nico didn’t know if it was because he had scared him away or flustered him too much.

When it did notify him of a new series of texts, he was still busy with new customers, and it took him all of his willpower not to make them wait while he checked his phone.

Finally, he thanked and said goodbye to the last customer of the queue, he moved so fast he almost stumbled on his own feet; and when he read what Percy had written, his heart was ready to jump out of his chest and start dancing on the counter.

Percy: me too

Percy: maybe

Percy: goot thign were seeing each other in a couple huors

Percy: cant wait

He read the words, reread it again and then again, once again feeling like they were nothing but a pipe dream. He blinked, and they were still there when he opened his eyes again.

Maybe he really could let himself hope this time.

Me: me too

Time definitely couldn’t pass fast enough.

#percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #nico di angelo #percico #nicercy #pernico #heroes of olympus #percy x nico #goth/surfer percico #my fics

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novaazurite · 1 month ago

Text

Making my grand return after 3 weeks of inactivity! (Though I may not be active all the time) Lets talk about TPOT 14!

While I did enjoy this episode a lot, the only downside I have with it is how it was a little too fast paced, I can handle that for BFDIA, but I think knowing how TPOT usually is maybe it was a little offputting, I might need to do a rewatch, but I remember a lot from the episode so im still goin with this post.

So with that said...lets start the ramble session!

So I just want to point out how Pencil is clearly living in the past on how obsessed she is to desprately reform FreeSmart by getting Book and Ice Cube, idk why it just feels funny and weird, you can clearly tell how uncomfortable they were in this and last episode that they want nothing to do with her, whatever the hell she did to them in IDFB (im still having thoughts the 'FreeSmart downfall' is gonna hppen in IDFB with Match being the first to leave the LOL.)

Ill admit the shot of the new TCOA was pretty cool, I like it when they implement 3d things into BFDI

Now... onto the CAS. I freaked out so bad in vc when I saw Pin and Ice Cube safe, ik Taggy and Book was gonna be safe so i didnt worry, but felt like Pin was in danger because she couldnt do much being stuck to Gaty, I thought Icy was gonna be out because she was used just to try and kill the fish monster, she couldnt really do much. But OH MY GOD.

I FUCKING GOT IT RIGHT. FOR A WHILE I HAD A FEELING ERASER AND GATY WAS GONNA BE OUT. Ill be honest Eraser didnt have much going on anymore because of Teardrop being eliminated in TPOT 9, so what else did he have left? I dont know exactly, I really had expected him getting out. Now TREE? I didnt expect him to be in the bottom 2, I thought he would be third to last safe, Pin and Gaty being bottom two because both of them didnt do much but be stabbed and used as a weapon by Robot Flower. As much as I love Gaty, I had a feeling she was gonna be out, and finding out I was right about her and Eraser being out made me insanely shocked. The first time I ever got a TPOT prediction right, though I thought One was gonna immediately snatch them up soon after, but good thing Book took notice of it and try to have and her, alongside Pin try to keep Gaty safe. While the others threw Eraser around basically.

Now im glad we got to see the elimination space again, and seeing the others are trying to escape, Fries and Puffball trying to break what seems to be a barrier? Also I noticed Saw, Nickel and Coiny are not there, ik they arent snatched by One but maybe theyre somewhere?

This genuinely made me sad, I had a really good feeling Two was gonna be upset about Gaty being out, I was definetly aware they couldnt bring themself to send her to the elimination space knowing how close she is to them, I didnt expect them to send her to kitchen, however, seeing the scene of One staring at her makes me feel like Two should had sent her there, Gaty is at risk of being snatched, which is gonna upset them even more or hell, send them into a panic, from what ive seen, they seem to brush off the fact Bell/Bomby/Barf Bag/Needle are missing, but what happens if Gaty disappears? Will they try to keep running the show? Theres a lot of predictions you can go off from.

I just wanna show this screenshot its so funny that Taggy is just staring at Book like this 😭😭😭

Glad to see Firey Jr again!

Its funny how DPYA tried to do the same thing from last episode trying to defeat that venus flytrap(?), like sure that would totally work again.

Kind of like how Pin thought doing this again was gonna work in BFDIA 15, LOL.

Closing out my post on the post credits scene, I kind of wonder where the other exitors went. I completely freaked out seeing Match end up in the Pillary Ruins, and this shot here is so cool like.... Knowing last episode we saw Firey and Leafy, are we gonna see more of the BFB contestants again? I wonder what they will have for the plot in future episodes...

And something tells me FreeSmart may reform again, knowing Match is with Ruby and Bubble, and apparently Pencil trying to get Ice Cube and Book back, though its not gonna happen.

#object show community #osc community #bfdi #battlefordreamisland #battle for dream island #tpot spoilers #Tpot 14 #tpot #bfdi tpot #bfdi spoilers #novaazurite rambles abt bs #A very long ramble session

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otomehonyaku · 8 months ago

Text

DIABOLIK LOVERS アニメ公式ノベライズ Official Novelization ☽ Chapter 2 Translation

[Previous chapter] ☽ [Next chapter]

Originally written by Yukuzuki Hiroha 結来月ひろは Translated from the Japanese by @otomehonyaku

STORY Following her father’s job transfer, Komori Yui is sent to live with the Sakamaki brothers. However, these six brothers turn out to be sadistic, ill-tempered vampires. The men are after Yui’s sweet and incredibly rare blood, and go to great lengths toying with her body and soul to get it. Before long, Yui finds herself trapped in an alluringly dangerous love game(1)...

1. 吸血愛戯 (ラブゲ��ム): Stylised as ‘love game’ but written with the characters for bloodsucking (吸血), love (愛), and play (戯). The latter character also has a connotation of playfulness/mischief.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

DISCLAIMER This is an unofficial translation intended for those interested in reading the story of the Diabolik Lovers game/season in a slightly more literary format in English. I have no affiliation with Rejet or Frontier Works whatsoever. All rights belong to them, but PLEASE DO NOT POST THIS TRANSLATION ELSEWHERE OR TRANSLATE TO OTHER LANGUAGES WITHOUT MY PERMISSION.

Now that that’s out of the way—have fun reading! ❤️

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Episode 2

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The evening sun cast a warm glow on the mansion. By the time the chandelier was lit, Yui was sitting on a bed in an unfamiliar room.

Where am I?

Yui sat upright and looked around. In the corner of the room was the suitcase she had brought to the mansion, as well as her bag. The room was gorgeous with its pink tones and large bed with a lavender-coloured canopy that most girls her age could only dream of. However, Yui wondered why she had been sleeping in this room.

I arrived at the mansion, and then…

Yui gasped. Right. I found out that they are vampires, that’s why. Remembering the moments leading up to her losing consciousness, she inattentively pressed her fingers to her neck.

“Thank God, I wasn’t bitten.” Feeling reassured, Yui lowered her fingers to her chest, but suddenly noticed something. “Huh?”

She wasn’t wearing her own clothes, but instead wore a négligé that she had never seen before.

“Did I change clothes earlier?”

However, Yui had no memory of doing so. In fact, she didn’t remember anything after Ayato pushed her to the floor and she lost consciousness. That meant a stranger had undressed her while she wasn’t conscious.

“Why am I here? I want to talk to my father…”

Yui wrapped her arms around herself, a thought ran through her mind.

The fact that she is not my own child bears no meaning at all.

That was what her father’s diary had said when she found it in the forbidden room. I’m not my father’s biological daughter after all… Still, she wasn’t quite sure if she really believed that. She didn’t want to.

“Dad… What’s going on? Please come back home…” Tears started welling up in the corners of her eyes when she remembered the days she’d spent with her father, but the moment was cut short.

“Oh, Bitchlet. It’s no use crying, y’know?”

Yui yelped in surprise.

When she looked up, Laito was sitting there on her bed, watching her intently.

“You look hot in your little négligé,” he said, “and you smell delicious, too.”

Painfully reminded of her current lack of clothing, Yui scrambled for the bed sheets and used them to cover up her chest. Still, the smirk that had been on Laito’s face the entire time grew deeper.

“I wonder if you’re trying to seduce me, little bitch.”

“Why would I…” Yui made an effort to get away from Laito, but soon felt the headboard press into her back, and she knew she had nowhere to run. Oh no… If I don’t do something, he’ll…

The boy was only a hair’s breadth away from her face when he abruptly disappeared from her line of vision, along with the sound of an impact.

“Don’t go touchin’ my things without permission.”

Ayato was the one who had sent his brother flying.

Laito repositioned his hat onto his head and looked at him. “Ayato, you’re too rowdy.”

“Shut up.”

Has Ayato come to my rescue? If he hadn’t come in, Laito would surely have bitten me. But why would he help me? Even though Yui had not said anything aloud, Ayato called out her wishful thinking immediately.

“I’ll have her.”

So he didn’t come to save me… he was only acting because he didn’t want me swiped away from under his nose.

“Please, don’t!”

“You three. If you do not hurry, we will all be late.” In the blink of an eye, Reiji had also appeared by the side of the bed.

“Again, Reiji?”

“Aw, man, things were just getting good…”

Ignoring Ayato’s and Laito’s complaints, Reiji turned to Yui. “You too. Hurry up and get dressed.”

Yui was glad that the second son had saved her from getting bitten once again, but grew suspicious at his words. “Get dressed? Are we going somewhere?”

“Of course. We’re going to class.”

“Class… at this hour?”

“Please, Yui. Your dull-wittedness is astounding. Do you really not understand anything until I spell it out for you? We attend night classes.”

Yui cast a glance upon the clock at her bedside, and the hands pointed to 5:20 PM. Had she not been here, her classes would have already ended at this time.

“But… we still have an entire day of classes ahead?” Having attended a regular school until now, Yui could not hide her confusion.

“Contrary to what is normal to humans, going out during the day is bothersome for us. As you will be living in the Sakamaki household from now on, we expect you to conform to our lifestyle.”

“But…”

“If you have any complaints, you are welcome to leave at any time,” Reiji said. He then turned to walk away..

“But you said you’d kill me if I ran…” The complaint slipped past Yui’s lips in a voice that was too quiet for Reiji to understand.

“What was that?”

“N-nothing.” Yui shook her head vigorously.

“Then please hurry and put on your uniform.”

When she followed Reiji’s gaze, she saw that a brand new uniform had suddenly appeared on her bed. It consisted of the same blazer that the brothers wore, and a skirt that had white frills attached to the hem. The white shirt ribbon that came with it was tied together with another red ribbon on the centre of the chest. Did they go through all that trouble to get me a school uniform?

“Um…” When Yui raised her face, the three brothers had disappeared from her bedside. And now they’re gone. They really are vampires…

Alone once again, she sighed heavily. When she tried to get up from the bed, her hand grazed past her rosary.

“Right…” Yui tightly gripped her rosary. “This might be the time to look for the room where I found that diary.” The brothers would be gone, and she would have the room to herself. This chance might not present itself again.

Yui went to the door and eased it open the tiniest bit in order to check her surroundings. Good. Nobody’s outside my room. Ready to seize the opportunity, Yui prepared to leave the room.

“Yo.”

“Huh?” Somehow, Ayato was standing right in front of her.

No way. There was nobody here.

He looked at her scantily-clothed form with an amused grin on his face. “You’re still wearing that? C’mon, I’ll help you change.”

“I’m fine, thank you!”

Yui shut the door in his face and sighed again.

Not a chance after all… because I’m not dealing with humans, but with vampires. I should keep my head down for now.

Having given up the idea of going to the forbidden room today, Yui reluctantly got ready to head to class.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

When Yui finished getting ready and descended to the ground floor, a large black limousine was waiting in front of the mansion. Are we… going to school by limousine?

She hesitated for a second, but the driver opened the door for her.

Well, I guess I have no choice, then.

“Thank you,” Yui said to the driver before she climbed into the limousine, but he kept silent as he shut the door.

The limousine was spacious enough to fit all of the brothers, and Yui was the last one to arrive. When she sat down on a seat near the door, the limousine quietly departed from the mansion.

The brothers didn’t talk to one another. The only sound that could be heard was the car’s engine, and the lack of conversation was in stark contrast with their behaviour yesterday.

Yui looked at the brothers. They couldn’t have been more different from each other—they each had their distinctive hair and eye colour. Are they really brothers?

Reiji was reading a book, and Subaru was sitting next to him, staring out the window with a sullen look on his face. Maybe they just don’t get along. On the opposite side, Laito’s face lit up like he was scheming, Kanato was talking to Teddy, and Shuu was listening to music with his earphones in.

They really aren’t talking.

“What’re you thinking about, Pancake?”

Yui had been lost in thought until she was surprised to see Ayato coming towards her, and she instinctively held out her hands to avoid him. The vampire didn’t seem pleased by that.

Taking advantage of sitting right next to her, Ayato moved in closer. “You got some nerve trying to disobey me, Pancake.”

“All this time, it’s been ‘Pancake,’ ‘Pancake’… I have a name, you know. It’s Komori Yui. Please use it properly.”

“Shut up. Names lost their meaning to me about a hundred years ago, Pancake,” Ayato retorted, drawing out the syllables. Obviously offended, he suddenly bent over Yui, his mouth going for her neck.

SNAP!

The sound of Reiji’s book slamming shut broke the tense atmosphere.

“How many times do I have to tell you, Ayato? Take such behaviour to your own room.”

Grumbling, Ayato let go of Yui.

Thank God…

“And you. Take this.”

“Huh?”

Reiji held out a juice box for her. “It’s pure cranberry juice. It works best against anaemia.”

“T-thank you,” Yui said in earnest, feeling a little surprised at Reiji’s sudden kindness.

“No need to thank me,” he responded, sending her a cold glare. “You will have to learn that you are simply our prey, and drink that every day.”

Their… prey? Yui’s hands trembled. She had known it deep down already, but still, Reiji’s cold words struck a chord. Her body was seized by fear. Soon, she was shaking.

“You know, Teddy? When humans are scared, their teeth start ‘chattering.’ Interesting, isn’t it? Let’s observe closely.” Kanato held out Teddy toward Yui.

To these men, all I am is prey.

The one eye Teddy had that wasn’t covered by an eye patch gleamed at Yui.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

With her lips forming a tight line and her body absolutely rigid, Yui sat in the limousine for another while until it passed under the moonlit gate of Reitei Academy. So this is the night school they were talking about… This was her first time to attend a night school, but Reitei, with its courtyard bathed in moonlight, looked to be a particularly prestigious one.

Yui trailed behind the brothers after they’d gotten out of the limousine and followed them into the courtyard. It was bright and enormous, and the staff had done a good job keeping it tidy.

That’s good. Even though they teach classes at night, it still seems to be a normal school. Yui had felt a little uneasy when she was told to go to the school the brothers went to, but most of the students somehow seemed to be normal humans just like her.

The moment the Sakamakis entered the school’s courtyard, all students stopped and stared.

Well, if you count out the fact that they’re vampires, they certainly are handsome… When Yui looked at them properly once again, their outward appearance was very well-put together. It certainly wasn’t strange for them to attract attention looking this good.

However, nobody tried talking to them.

Even when they passed through the hallways and a group of female students looked over while chatting with one another in a low voice, they fell silent when Yui returned their gaze. When Yui averted her eyes again, the girls hurriedly moved past them.

What was that for? She turned around and looked at the girls’ backs as they walked away, thinking it strange. Reiji stopped in front of the staircase and called out, pulling Yui out of her daze.

“You are in the same class as Ayato and Kanato, so please go with the two of them.”

“Okay.”

In all earnest, Yui had been looking forward to some time away from the brothers, but she had no choice. She did as she was told, but Reiji’s cold voice stopped her before she could leave with Ayato and Kanato.

”I am not done talking yet.”

Yui reluctantly faced him again.

“If you do not wish to be struck with a whip, I would advise you to not do anything reckless. Understood?”

Meaning that if I tried to run away…

Reiji’s unrelenting gaze gave Yui the chills.

“Answer me.”

“…Yes.”

Feeling Reiji’s ice-like stare on her back, she walked away and headed to the classroom.

This should be it.

When Yui went into the classroom, Kanato was sitting at the very back, a book open in front of him as he cradled Teddy in his arms. Ayato was slumped over on his desk. For some reason, they were the only students there.

But class is just about to start. Why isn’t anyone else here?

Yui considered asking Kanato, but seeing him talk so animatedly to Teddy made her close her mouth again. She quickly glanced at the blackboard. It said Today’s Home Economics class is cooking practice. Please assemble in the school kitchen.

“So we’re doing a cooking class today.” That’s why the classroom was empty—everyone else must have already gone to the kitchen.

We should get going, too. I can’t be late on my first day here. But where is this kitchen?

“…Cooking practice?”

Yui’s voice roused Ayato from his nap, and his face twisted into a suggestive grin. “Hey, Pancake.”

“Ayato, please don’t call me weird names at school.”

“Shut up. You’re better off worrying about where to find the school kitchen.”

As if he had read Yui’s mind, she fell silent.

“Yours Truly could do you a favour and take you there.”

“Really?”

”Yeah. C’mon.” Ayato grabbed her by the arm and dragged her out of the classroom.

“Ah, wait!”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“…Um, Ayato?”

“What?”

“Where are we?”

The room Ayato had dragged her to was filled with cooking utensils and supplies. However, there were no other students in sight.

“It’s the school kitchen.”

“Then why is nobody here?”

“‘Cause this is the old kitchen. They teach the cooking classes in the new one.”

In other words, Ayato tricked her into coming here.

“So why did you bring me here?”

“As for the reason…” Ayato stood up from the chair he’d been sitting on, and stalked towards Yui.

Oh no, not again… Yesterday’s events were still etched into the back of her mind, making Yui freeze in place, but the answer coming out of Ayato’s mouth surprised her.

“Make me some takoyaki.”

“T-takoyaki?”

…Like, actual takoyaki?

“Well, I don’t expect anything but the world’s best takoyaki.”

A takoyaki pan was already present on the table, making Yui realise the height of his expectations. So that’s why he brought me here? She wasn’t sure if this was the actual reason why, but this wasn’t the time to think about that.

”But… we should head to class, quickly.”

“Don’t talk back to me. Yours Truly will eat your takoyaki. Now get cooking!”

“You could at least ask nicely…”

“You say something?” Ayato clearly wasn’t intending to go back to class.

Yui did as he said, and started the preparations to make takoyaki. Fortunately, most of the ingredients were already there, and Yui somehow managed to make takoyaki with them.

“Here you go.”

Ayato stuffed the takoyaki into his mouth without hesitation. “So good!”

Next to an innocently grinning Ayato, who feasted happily on the takoyaki, sat a rather dreary-looking Yui. “It’s only my first day of school and I’ve already skipped a class…”

Yui had never expected it to come to this on her first day after transferring to Reitei. She had never skipped a class before, even at her old school.

“No use worrying ‘bout such small things. Have a bite.”

Before Yui could answer, Ayato pushed a ball of takoyaki into her mouth. “It’s delicious!”

“Right?”

For something she had made herself, it had turned out pretty well. As the two sat and enjoyed the takoyaki, Yui caught a glimpse of the clock hanging on the wall.

Their next class was about to start.

“We need to clean up. I don’t want to miss our next class too.” Yui began carrying the cooking utensils she used to make takoyaki to the sink. To avoid her getting wet, she took off her blazer, and hurriedly began washing a bowl. She had not realised there would be so much washing-up to do.

Ayato, satisfied with a belly full of takoyaki, stretched out his legs and reclined in his chair, watching Yui as she did the dishes.

“Give me a hand, Ayato. You were the one who wanted me to make takoyaki, right?”

Silently, the vampire got up from his chair and crept over to her. He stopped just at her back. Yet Yui had not heard him coming over the sound of the running water, and so she called out to him again.

“Hey, Aya—”

When Yui looked over her shoulder, Ayato was right there. He was looking down on her quite literally, and as soon as she saw the look in his eyes, she immediately squirmed away from him.

“What’re you running away for?” He stalked over Yui, who was now standing by the window. “I’ve been going crazy since yesterday. I don’t wanna hold off any longer.”

I have to run…

Ayato captured her in his arms with ease.

“Let me taste you.”

“Please, don’t…”

The words did not reach him. Ayato grabbed her chin and turned her face to the side, exposing the nape of her neck.

“No bite marks at all. Your skin looks delicious, really.”

Taking in the sight of her slender, pale neck right in front of him, a satisfied smile played at Ayato’s lips.

“Yours Truly will be the one to take all your firsts.”

The next moment, Ayato’s teeth hovered above the skin of her throat. A predatory gleam clouded his eyes before he buried his fangs deep in her neck.

Yui gasped. The pain of Ayato’s sharp teeth piercing her neck and the feeling of her blood flowing freely into Ayato’s mouth made her body tremble. Even if Yui wanted to run from him, he had a strong grip on both her jaw and her waist.

“Fuck… what is this? I’ve never tasted blood this sweet before.” Ayato briefly pulled away from her neck, his eyes twinkling with delight. “I like you.”

Before long, Ayato’s fangs brutally punctured Yui’s skin a second time.

“Please…”

Yui was not sure whether it was because he was sucking her blood, but her head began to grow numb, as if she was not herself anymore.

I’m… scared… If he keeps feeding on me, I'll truly become their prey… I’m so scared.

Yui gathered all her strength to push Ayato away from her. However, the force of her push made the skin tear where Ayato had punctured it with his fangs. The intense pain shooting through her neck knocked the breath out of her, and her face contorted in agony.

“Idiot. If you move around while I bite you, you’ll only make it hurt more, you know.” When Ayato looked up, his lips were stained a bright red when they pulled away from his teeth in a smile.

“Ah…”

His lips were stained the colour of Yui’s blood.

I’ve really been fed on.

With the pain and shock of having her blood sucked, the fear showed plainly on her face.

“Seeing you in tears with your face twisting in pain… It’s too tempting.” Ayato wiped the blood from his lips with the back of his hand, and then licked it off before reaching out to Yui again.

“Please, stop…”

“No stopping now.”

Ayato pushed her up against the window and bit down on the nape of her neck again.

The moonlight illuminated the two of them through the window, contrasting with the dark room behind them. The moon above Yui was the last thing she saw before her consciousness fell into a deep darkness.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“You two are an embarrassment to do such a thing on school premises.”

Before long, Reiji was standing in the doorway with his arms crossed and his eyes fixed on Ayato and Yui. Ayato clicked his tongue as he turned around to face his brother.

“Damn it! Shit was just getting good.”

“Look at the state of her. That is your fault, Ayato. Take responsibility for your actions and take her home.”

When Ayato glanced at Yui, who was still in his arms, he noticed that she had already passed out. Might’ve been a bit too rough. The colour of Yui’s face was past the point of flattery, and she did not look like she would be waking up anytime soon. At the same time, Ayato could not simply leave her there. He knew exactly how Reiji would react if he did, and he wasn’t looking forward to that.

“Hmph.”

Ayato swept Yui up into his arms, and the next instant, they had disappeared from the room completely.

“Good grief. If only they could just behave.” Reiji let out a heavy sigh and walked out of the room.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Ugh…”

Yui opened her eyes on a bench next to the indoor pool inside the mansion.

Why am I here? I thought I was at school…

“Yo, you’re awake.”

Ayato was sitting on the armrest, lazily playing around with the uniform ribbon that had somehow found its way from neck into his hands.

Right, he fed on me…

Yui tried sitting upright, but the loss of blood had also drained the strength from her body. Seeing her struggle, Ayato walked over to her.

“S-stay away!”

Ayato halted.

The fact that vampires needed human blood for nourishment, Yui knew. But Ayato, on the other hand, only seemed to be toying with her.

“Why are you doing this?” Yui asked.

Ayato stood over her, staring at her coldly. “You still don’t get it?”

“Huh?”

In a flash, Yui’s body was raised in the air, and Ayato’s face was a hair’s breadth away from hers. He’d picked her up with ease and began walking. Yui struggled to have Ayato put her back down, but he leisurely strode over towards the pool. He came to a stop right by the edge of the water.

“Yours Truly is the one who controls you. Stop complaining about everything!”

Ayato had barely finished speaking before he threw Yui into the water.

Yui screamed. A loud splashing sound echoed off the walls of the indoor pool.

Oh no, I can’t swim…

To make matters worse, Yui was still wearing her uniform, and it weighed her down even more as it absorbed the water. She tried to wrestle herself to the surface, but despite her desperate efforts, she still felt herself sinking towards the bottom of the deep pool.

Ayato watched her struggle from the poolside.

“Tell me that I’m the best. Tell me that I’m better than anyone else, and that you’re mine.”

In a stroke of luck, Yui managed to come up for air. She begged for Ayato to help her, but she kept getting pulled back down.

“Ayato—I can’t—I can’t swim…”

Yui desperately screamed Ayato’s name, but she had already disappeared under the surface of the water.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Whether he had heard her or not, Ayato's expression remained unchanged as he stared down at the water. This is Pancake’s fault. She disobeyed me…

Memories from his childhood haunted Ayato as he watched Yui’s struggling form in the pool.

In his thoughts, Ayato travelled to a lake far away, one hand strenuously reaching out of the water, flailing desperately. The blurry shape of a woman seemed to come closer from under the surface of the water. Ayato fought his way up, and reached out a hand towards her.

However, the woman had not come to save Ayato from drowning. She merely looked on, her expression flat.

Help me…

Ayato’s face twisted in despair knowing that his words would not reach anyone, but rather disappeared into the lake.

Help me…

Yui’s screams for help lined up with Ayato’s distant memory and without giving it any more thought, Ayato launched himself into the water. He did not know why he did it. Even though he harboured a sliver of doubt about his own behaviour, he took Yui into his arms under the surface of the pool.

Well, he did tell us not to kill her.

Reminding himself of this fact, Ayato cupped Yui’s face in his hands, and pressed his lips to hers.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It’s warm… and I can breathe again.

When Yui opened her eyes, she realised that Ayato had been transferring air to her with a kiss. Ayato pulled away as soon as he saw that she had regained consciousness.

Why is he looking at me with such a forlorn expression?

In the deafening silence of the water, Yui saw herself reflected in his eyes, which were clouded with sadness.

Don’t look at me like that, Yui wanted to say, but the air Ayato had given her became bubbles under the water.

I can’t breathe…

Seeing the struggle on Yui’s face again, Ayato undid the top buttons of her blouse to expose her shoulder, and sank his fangs into her skin.

“Nnh!”

Bubbles rose to the surface of the water again when Yui cried out. When Ayato switched to a different spot, biting her again and again, the blood seeping from the wounds in Yui’s skin floated around the two of them like a red ribbon that bound them together.

I have no air left…

Just when Yui was about to lose consciousness again, Ayato held on tight and pulled her with him to the surface. Yui coughed heavily to clear her lungs of water and desperately fill them with air at the same time. Ayato’s head was now above the water as well, and his eyes gleamed with a bewitching ferality that she had never seen of him before.

“Fuck, I can feel your blood flowing through my body… I can feel its power…”

“Please, no more…” Yui begged in a soft voice. Her face was white as a sheet, and the cold water and Ayato’s feeding had left her trembling incessantly.

“It can’t be helped. Let’s call it here for today.” Ayato held on to Yui as he swam to the edge of the pool, and hoisted her upwards onto the tiles.

Feeling an intense relief at being on solid ground again, Yui fell to the floor. Ayato threw a towel over her head.

“Huh?”

Yui was surprised by Ayato’s small gesture, but before she could thank him, Ayato turned his back on her and walked away without saying anything.

What does he really want with me?

Unable to figure out his motive, Yui tightly gripped the towel.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Around the same time, a man in a long, dark coat appeared in the woods surrounding the mansion. His motives seemed unclear窶派e merely stood there. However, as if he had noticed something, his head suddenly snapped up, and his red eyes focused on the sight in front of him.

Ah… Brings back memories.

The man’s eyes were trained on the Sakamaki mansion.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Yui had used the shower room adjacent to the pool, and when she returned to her room, she was stopped by the faint sound of a door unlocking once again. With suspicion, she followed the source of the sound, and reached another dilapidated spiral staircase.

“This staircase should lead to that room…”

Since then, Reiji had forbidden her from entering, but Yui was not prepared to give up on finding her father’s diary. I might be able to sneak into the room unnoticed from here, Yui thought as she ascended the stairs and found, as expected, the forbidden room.

Yui entered quietly, and immediately began the search for her father’s diary. It should have been right around here…

Carefully tiptoeing around the shards of broken glass, Yui eventually found the diary among the books on the floor.

“Gotcha!” She opened the little notebook without delay. “Huh…What’s this?”

Yui’s eyes widened in surprise. Her hands trembled as she flipped the pages.

The pages were all completely blank where her father’s handwriting had been.

“It’s all… gone…” So what on Earth did I see before?

In a daze, the notebook slipped out of Yui’s hands and fell onto the floor, the sound reverberating through the quiet, empty space.

#ok so this is where the bite play comes in right #but the thing is #I wish the bite play had a little more… oomph in this novel you know #I tried to make it sound a little bit better in English but if i were to translate it word for word it it would just be #He bit her. He sucked her blood.#like ma’am……..#i do have to admit that i’ve been picking up writing again too but idk i might post some excerpts at some point #it’s rukiyui stuff including y’know…. bite play #and after care and all that lol #idk if it’s any good but i’ve been eating up anything rukiyui lately anyway so if there’s more people like me please make yourself known he #diabolik lovers #dialovers #diabolik lovers translation #diabolik lovers translations #diahell #otomehonyaku #my translations #Diabolik lovers novelize #Diabolik lovers novelization

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pedrito-friskito · 11 months ago

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I’m baaaaaaaaaaaack. 😇

friskito has returned!! didja miss me?

I never meant to disappear into the ether like I did, and I can’t guarantee this is me 100% back to where I was, but we are taking life as it comes, folks!

my darling @prolix-yuy tagged me in a wip game a few weeks ago, so I figured what better way to announce my return than to tell you what I’m working on and what’s coming soon! (also, just as a little note, I’m gonna start posting a lot more on ao3 as well!)

so, without further ado….

STRAWBERRY WINE: you didn’t think I was gonna leave this one unfinished, did you? I’ve got not 1, not 2, but 4 parts completed, ready to be edited and posted once the motivation grabs hold. part 32 will be up FEBRUARY 3RD (brace yourselves!)

DISOBEDIENCE (PART II): I said there’d be a part 2 when I posted part 1 back in….October, and it is officially in the works. no date, but we’re getting there.

BLACK BUTTERFLIES and DÉJÀ VU: the Soap Mactavish little sister AU nobody asked for…reader x Ghost, follows the timeline of the MWIII game (did I cry playing the game? yup. did I cry writing parts of this fic? also yup) - not complete but multiple parts, part 1 will be up FEBRUARY 5TH.

ONE PLUS ONE: for my calculated risks lovers! I truly cannot believe it’s been a year since I update this story, but one is on its way! a glimpse into their wedding night, and some well-deserved shenanigans…! this will be up FEBRUARY 14TH!

and I can’t really classify these at WIPs because have I started them? nope. do I really want to write them? uh YES.

CHAMPAGNE PROBLEMS: I hinted at this one before - santi garcia x reader x frankie morales. based on the tswift song, prepare for angst and drama and a sprinkling of heat.

THE UNTITLED DIN DJARIN HOCKEY AU: I know there’s gonna be 4 parts (like 4 periods in a hockey game hahahaha) but is there a plot yet? nope. all I know so far is rink medic x hockey player din, modern setting, the rest has yet to come to me!

so there you have it! my inbox is open if anyone wants to say hi (or has thoughts about anything that’s on the horizon!) xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxo

and tagging a few potentially interested peeps (again i’m SORRY I LEFT FOR SO LONG 😭)

@iamskyereads @psychedelic-ink @inklore @winchestershiresauce @thevoiceinyourheadx @theradioactivespidergwen @wildemaven @amywritesthings @steadyasthe-flowers @undercoverpena @splendiferous-bitch @munsonownsmyass @alwritey-aphrodite @vermillionwinter @spacecowboyhotch @nothoughtsjustmeds @saintmurd0ck 💕

#kay talks to people

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laxmiree · 6 months ago

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[CN] MLQC Season 2 Chapter 59 Translation [Lucien’s Route (3/3)]

⚠️ SPOILER ALERT ⚠️

This post contains a VERY HEAVY SPOILER for the chapter that has not been released in EN yet! Feel free to notify me if there are any mistakes in the translation~

Lucien gazes at the shallow bite mark left by my teeth on his hand, a hint of amusement mingled with helplessness in his eyes.

With his other hand, he gently pinches my cheek.

"Is this how Miss Werewolf executes me?"

Translation under the cut!

[Previous Part-> Click Here]

—[Lucien's Route - 10: First Clearing After Rainstorm]—

As dusk falls, my face grows increasingly pale as Lucien escorts me back to my room.

MC: As the game progresses, I feel like the pressure is getting bigger and bigger, and even my head hurts more.

I can't help but reach out to rub my head, but Lucien gently holds back my wrist. His fingers gently brush against my skin as if offering some kind of comfort.

Lucien: I have a better way to relieve it. Come with me.

He guides me to lie back on the bed, and I rest my head on Lucien's right leg, feeling his fingertips slowly massaging my temple.

Lucien's fingertips are purposely dipped with water, and their slight coolness gradually soothes my mind.

When I slowly open my eyes, his silhouette is tenderly outlined by twilight, with the light catching on his eyelashes and casting a focused shadow.

The continuous sound of flowing water since entering the mansion seems to fade at this moment, leaving only our breathing amplified in my ears.

MC: [softly calling out his name] Lucien.

I can't help but call his name. Lucien looks at me and blinks.

MC: I hope we can see each other again tomorrow and walk to the last day together.

Lucien: I hope we can make it through the night safely too.

Lucien bows his head, his lips brushing my forehead in a kiss as fleeting as morning dew.

Lucien: [whispers softly] MC, may you have a sweet dream tonight.

I close my eyes and fall into a brief slumber, waking up just in time for the werewolves' activity period.

I don't know when Lucien left, but I still feel his presence lingering in the air.

I shake my head, dispelling the wild thoughts from my mind. No matter what, the game isn't over yet, and tonight is undoubtedly even more critical.

✂———————–

I quickly meet up with Mousy. To avoid any misunderstandings between us, I specifically explain what happened in the morning.

MC: It has been three whole days. If I don't identify a real werewolf, they might start doubting my identity as the seer…

MC: We will achieve victory soon. Do you believe in me?

I confidently recited the lines I had rehearsed during the day. Mousy seems taken aback by my directness and nods in agreement.

However, I am fully aware that the longer the hunter survives, the less likely the werewolves are to win.

As I think about this, I don't feel any regret, but rather more and more at ease.

Perhaps in the time I can't see, Lucien is also taking steps closer to the ending which belongs only to the two of us.

Braving the deafening rain, we head to Joker's room again. As we open the door, a flash of lightning strikes a giant tree in front of the window, charring it.

I refuse Mousy's help and personally push Joker into the pool.

Watching the deep green color disappear into the water, I feel a sense of relief that I haven't felt in a long time.

That night, I had a rare good night's sleep. By the time dawn arrived, the rain had already stopped.

It was still some time before my usual wake-up hour, but instead of waiting for Lucien to come find me, I took the initiative to push open the door and go out.

Lucien's door wasn't locked; it opened with a push. He stood by the window, looking at the clear, blue sea.

Lucien: [gently] You’re here.

After being confined all night, the morning breeze flows lightly into the bedroom, ruffling his hair and revealing his smiling eyes.

Lucien: Did you have a sweet dream last night?

Thinking about the scene where I personally "dealt with" the Joker last night, I smile.

MC: [smiles happily] Mm, I had a very good and happy dream~

✂———————–

Soon, all the players are gathered in the banquet hall again. The long, once full table is now left with only a few people.

Apart from Lucien and me, there are only four people left.

Zhao Jianqiang, who was already not in a good state, is lying on the table today, tapping his head.

MC: Can you still hold on? Do we need to tell the officials?

Zhao Jianqiang waves his hand, putting on an "I can still manage" expression.

Zhao Jianqiang: ....Boss, don't worry, I can still work overtime when the game is over!

.......In this state, it's better not to work overtime. It would be troublesome if there is a work injury.

Before joining the game, he was busy editing the film "Odyssey." After this ends, I really need to give him a proper vacation.

Simply put, let's "liberate" him tonight.

As I am pondering, Zhao Jianqiang suddenly stands up.

Zhao Jianqiang: Let me speak first... I am actually the grave keeper. Yesterday, the baldhead that MC checked was indeed a werewolf.

I quietly look around, and no one questions Zhao Jianqiang's words. Without a doubt, my identity is ultimately confirmed.

MC: Then I'll also share the results of my check from last night. Luckily, I identified another werewolf.

I stand up under everyone's trusting gazes, my eyes falling on the burly man who has been very low-key these past few days and is now quietly watching me.

MC: It's you, Mr. Gentle Giant.

Another round of execution is over. In the eyes of everyone, the Seer has successfully identified the Werewolf for two consecutive days, and the game is about to end smoothly.

Or rather, no one is willing to think about the authenticity of my identity anymore.

The irreversible ending is always difficult to accept.

As I get up and walk out of the banquet hall, I'm suddenly called out to.

??: MC!

White Angel rushes over to me. It seems like she has been waiting for this opportunity for a long time, a shy blush coloring her cheeks.

Angel: The game is almost over, MC. You're in a very dangerous position right now.

Angel: I have a good idea who the next werewolf is. Don't worry, I'll protect you tonight!

...I never expected that the person who gave the wolf faction a bad start would be right before me.

MC: Are you the Guardian?

Angel: Yes! My judgment was right. With you as the Seer, we will definitely win.

Angel: You might not remember, but we've actually met in real life.

MC: Eh…?

She sees the confusion in my eyes and explains to me with a smile.

Angel: I am a nurse and volunteer for the An Kang Charity Project. I am responsible for caring for deteriorating patients.

Angel: When you came to report, I was the one who received you.

Angel: I deliberately 'subverted' my dress style in the game, so it's normal if you didn't recognize me at first.

‘Carnival Night’ has been going on for so many days, I have completely immersed myself in the identity within the game.

Suddenly hearing about real-life matters, I feel a surreal sense of suspension. I ponder for a while and finally nod in realization.

MC: Oh, it's you!

Angel nods, looks towards Lucien not far away, and whispers in my ear.

Angel: Mr. X is Professor Lucien, right?

Seeing me nod, she beams a radiant smile.

Angel: It's really you! I'm thrilled to meet a media person who tirelessly reports on deteriorating diseases and Professor Lucien who has been dedicated to researching deteriorating diseases.

Angel: Participating in the closed beta of 'Carnival Night' turned out to be the luckiest thing for me this year.

Angel: Even after leaving the game, as a regular healthcare worker, I will continue to support you all!

After Angel leaves, I stand there, my heart feeling like it's stuffed with tangled knots of thread, a strange sensation I can't quite describe.

Even though it's just a game, deceiving someone with expectations and trust in me still leaves me feeling a little guilty.

My empty right hand is enveloped by another warm hand. Lucien has walked to my side without me noticing.

MC: You heard everything?

Lucien: Mm.

Lucien and I interlocked our fingers, palms pressed tightly together, sharing each other's warmth.

Lucien: [chuckles softly] You've done very well.

—[Lucien's Route - 11: First Clearing After Rainstorm]—

I bite my lip, suppress the emotions in my heart, and smile at Lucien.

MC: Looks like my role as a producer has contributed a bit to the care of deteriorating patients~

Lucien nods, his seriousness clearly visible in his eyes.

Lucien: Not just a bit, but a lot.

Lucien: After all, scientific research isn't purely about rational study; it's intertwined with human emotions and interests.

Lucien: Just like in 'Carnival Night,' those who grasp logic and truth may not necessarily surpass those who manipulate hearts and exchange interests.

I nod slightly, feeling a bit guilty, and listen as Lucien continues speaking.

Lucien: The media can both widely disseminate the latest scientific research results and play a role in monitoring and holding scientific research accountable.

He pauses briefly, then adds softly.

Lucien: —This helps prevent issues like academic misconduct and unethical research practices during the scientific research process.

His gaze seems to drift away from "Odyssey" and look into the distance.

Such an expression makes me inevitably think of the night he took me to the abandoned research institute. I can't help but ask.

MC: Are you... thinking about Mr. Xu?

Lucien, however, shakes his head. When he looks at me again, his eyes remain calm and serene as usual.

Lucien: In the path of scientific research, there have been many such things in the past. And in the future, there will be many more.

Seeing my puzzled expression, Lucien smiles.

Lucien: For example, research on deterioration worldwide has stalled at this stage.

Lucien: Many research institutions have adjusted their research directions and terminated research projects as a result-

Lucien: -And for those projects that still exist, obtaining funding has also become more challenging.

Lucien casually picks up a glass of juice from the tray carried by a passing butler and hands it to me.

Lucien: Given this background, those who continue striving for deterioration research are making efforts to revitalize this research direction.

Lucien: For them, more than studying deterioration itself, what's crucial is making 'innovative discoveries', securing funding, and sustaining the research institute.

The deliberately emphasized tone makes me vaguely understand the implied meaning of Lucien's words.

MC: You mean... some of them have started to take desperate risks?

Lucien nods, his expression still indifferent, revealing no specific opinion or feelings toward these people.

Lucien: Among the organizations researching the deterioration disease that approached me for cooperation, quite a few are involved in such activities.

MC: [worriedly]…What about you? Is there similar pressure at Ultima Bioscience Research Institute?

Lucien: I'm fortunate that there haven't been any so far. Therefore, I can focus more on my research.

Instinctively, I tighten the grip on his hand, and I see Lucien give me a gentle and reassuring smile.

Lucien: [chuckles] It's getting late. Don't forget we're still in the "Carnival Night". Do you want to see other places?

✂———————–

That night, Mousy and I pushed Zhao Jianqiang into the pool.

Since I have already decided to stay with Lucien until the end, I no longer consider the strategy or the winning and losing of the werewolf faction.

After saying goodbye to the seemingly downcast Mousy, I return to my room with a relaxed mindset and quickly tally the votes.

Mousy and I have 2 votes together, while Lucien and the White Angel have 2.5 votes together. It seems that tomorrow will be our last day as werewolves.

I lie on the bed, turn over, and a strong sense of unreality rises in my heart.

Carnival Night has been going on for several days now, and apart from being startled by Brother Genius on the first night, it seems like everything has been thrilling but safe…

But I have actually always been very concerned about what Brother Genius said about the "game rule loophole" on the night he committed suicide.

Why was he able to go out at that time, and how did he kill himself?

Thinking about this, I remain puzzled, feeling as if a little claw is scratching at my heart, making it uncomfortable to lie down or sit.

Finally, I steel myself and stand up from the bed.

Since the werewolves are going to lose tomorrow anyway, why not take advantage of this long night and go out to investigate?

I look at the clock on the wall. Although the time for werewolf and seer activities has passed, dawn is at five o'clock, and there are still a few hours to go.

So, I get up and walk to the door. After silently giving myself three seconds to hesitate, I decisively open the door and walk out.

Sure enough, I am not punished or sent back to my room for coming out during off-activity hours.

The large mansion is already empty, with most of the room name plates having the players' names crossed out.

I walk alone through the secluded corridor surrounded by pool water, searching for anything unusual.

My body trembles when I reach the atrium, and I stand frozen in shock.

The light in Brother Genius's room, which should have been offline a few days ago, is on.

My heart tightens uncontrollably as I hold my breath and walk to the door. Before I can push it, the door opens from the inside.

Lucien: Good evening, MC.

Lucien smiles while holding the door, and the indoor light dyes a warm hue on his hair. He steps aside and invites me in.

Lucien: Please come in.

I walk in as if on a sleepwalk and sit down. After glancing around the room, my eyes fall on Lucien, and I can't help but stare at him.

MC: Why are you sleeping here... Isn't your room on the other side?

Lucien: I couldn't sleep, so I often wander around at this time. Did I scare you?

MC: Not really, it's just…

I ponder my words for a while, feeling a headache coming on and a bit of irritation growing in my heart.

Having reached this point, I no longer care about our identity as werewolf and hunter or about the mansion owner's personal tasks.

So, I look at Lucien and decide to stop hiding anything, pouring all the questions in my heart in one breath.

MC: Alright, I actually want to know, when did you start coming out at night?

Lucien: [frankly and without hesitation] Since the night of the third day.

I look at his calm expression, feeling only more puzzled.

MC: But why risk breaking the rules to do this? Is it because you discovered something?

Meeting my questioning gaze, Lucien smiles slightly.

Lucien: Because at that time, I realized the same thing you are realizing now: there is something suspicious about Brother Genius's death.

Lucien: The game is based on rules: werewolves kill humans, humans vote players out, and the only two execution methods in the game are pushing them into the water.

Lucien: Out of so many humans being killed, only Brother Genius's death was different.

With a graceful gesture, he motions for me to look towards the bedroom door.

Lucien: There are some bloodstains on the outside of the door frame that haven't been thoroughly cleaned. He walked out of the room and died at the door.

Lucien: So I infer that he was not killed by the werewolves, and the werewolves' target on the first night should have been Joker.

MC: ...How do you even know this?

Lucien: [chuckles] It's just a guess based on intuition and understanding.

Lucien's eyes curve into a smile. Though he frames it as a guess, his words carry an undeniable insight.

Lucien: I guess there is a cute classmate in the werewolf faction.

Lucien: [the glee in his tone! he doesn’t even hide his happily wagging ‘fox tail’] This classmate has a low tolerance for Joker, yet still wants to play with me, the hunter, for a while longer.

His hushed voice mingles with the secretive sounds of flowing water, cloaking his words in suspense.

Lucien: After all, for the werewolves, it's far too dangerous and unbelievable for a hunter to survive until now.

Lucien: What do you think, Miss Werewolf?

The facade I've been barely maintaining in front of everyone finally crumbles entirely at this moment.

I look at Lucien, feeling more relieved than frustrated.

This is wonderful, I can finally be completely open and honest with him.

MC: You figured it out long ago, didn't you?

MC: From the first day... no, from the moment Mr. Hunter first saw me, you knew, didn't you?

Lucien leans in close, his fingertips gliding across my face, from the wisps of hair on my forehead to the corners of my eyes and lips, which are taut from tension…

Lucien: So cute.

MC: What?

His non-sequitur leaves me flustered, and I instinctively lean in closer, trying to hear him clearly.

Lucien: Your small gestures as you lie, your feigned innocence when defending yourself, and your little wickedness in weaving traps for victory... They are all very cute.

MC: …..

I am rendered speechless, unable to argue, yet finding the sly Lucien before me utterly infuriating.

I reach out and grasp his hand as it caresses my cheek, stare at him for a moment, and then decisively bite him.

MC: Mr. Hunter's guess is correct. But it's too late. We're about to win.

—[Lucien's Route - 12: The wind is calm, and the waves are still]—

Lucien gazes at the shallow bite mark on his hand left by my teeth, a hint of amusement mingled with helplessness in his eyes. With his other hand, he gently pinches my cheek.

Lucien: [chuckles helplessly] Is this how Miss Werewolf executes me?

I spread my hands out, letting him pinch my cheeks, and I can only speak unclearly.

MC: I wish I could, but unfortunately, it's not the time for the werewolves to act yet. You've just narrowly escaped death!

Lucien releases my cheek and gazes at my impassioned demeanor, his eyes crinkling into soft crescents.

Lucien: Well then, I must thank you, Miss Werewolf.

MC: Then can I accept a thank-you gift from you?

Lucien tilts his head slightly, his eyes openly revealing a look full of indulgence.

Lucien: [with that very indulgent tone of his] Of course, you can. What do you want?

MC: We previously agreed to explore the waterway structure inside the mansion together, but various delays have prevented us from doing so.

MC: Regarding this, I want to complete it and solve this mystery before the game ends.

Gazing at Lucien with anticipation, I catch a smile on his lips.

Lucien: Alright. Tonight, I can satisfy all your wishes.

Lucien: Let's go, we have many places to go.

✂———————–

We walk hand in hand through the mansion, quickly finding what we are searching for since most of the rooms are empty.

All water pathways on the blueprint that we draw connect to form a magic formation and the center of the formation ultimately converges in the master room deep within the mansion.

Exchanging glances, Lucien and I enter the master room once more.

Under the moonlight, the originally clear water takes on a dreamlike pink hue, with soft waves rippling gently.

However, I can not forget that this vivid pink is formed by the bright red blood from those executed, gradually flowing throughout the mansion and gathering here.

A faintly visible magic circle lies deep within the water as if awaiting its final “sacrifice”.

All the clues from the game so far finally connect in my mind, forming a vague conclusion.

Perhaps this so-called island banquet was nothing but a long-planned sacrificial ceremony from the very beginning.

Even though I don't know what the final result of this magic circle will be, I no longer care.

Lucien and I lock eyes, and he gives me a sly wink.

Lucien: It turns out that the lady of this mansion before me is actually so dangerous.

Since Lucien has already guessed my identity as a werewolf, it's no surprise that my identity as the mansion owner is also revealed. I pout.

MC: Yeah, although I just found out about all these things too. But now, I no longer care about these settings.

Pulling Lucien along, I get into the dreamlike pink pool and smile at him.

MC: I just want to bring this Carnival Night to an end that belongs to us.

We hold hands tightly, wading through the water just like last time. However, this time, I am the one leading us to our destination.

The pressure in the water gradually increases, my breathing becomes rapid, and the curiosity and desire to explore in my heart compel me to speak.

MC: Lucien, can you tell me why you have been helping the werewolves?

Lucien: I'm not deliberately helping the werewolves.

Lucien's deep gaze falls on me, his low voice echoing in this seemingly infinite space.

Lucien: I'm simply doing what I want to do and witnessing the result I want to see.

MC: ‘’Result”?

The rippling water casts dappled light on Lucien's face, which holds a faint smile.

Lucien: Whenever I see you in action, I want to know what you will plan, what kind of decisions you will make, and what kind of statements you will say…

Lucien: [gently] I want to explore every side of you and witness where you'll ultimately arrive.

His gaze on me is burning and clear, as if tangible.

Lucien: And the result is... you, finally arriving before me.

[:”””” he must feels so happy that regardless of everything, out of so many possibilities, she just wants to run to his side🥺]

My heart skips a few beats, and my voice drops to a whisper.

MC: B-but I'm doing something "bad" though…

Lucien: But this isn't reality, is it?

Lucien: It's precisely because tonight is a “carnival" night that I get to see another possibility of you and cherish this possibility.

He says, tapping the tip of my nose.

Lucien: Besides, I haven't missed any of those guilty expressions you make after being "bad" each time.

We have reached the center of the pool, at the top of the magic circle, and I open my arms to hug Lucien.

MC: [smiles softly] Alright, you've seen everything about me and guessed it all. This werewolf is cornered now.

MC: But before I'm out, I have one greedy wish.

MC: Mr. Hunter, may I "choose" you tonight?

Lucien's heartbeat remains steady as he gently strokes my head, as if what I said were merely an invitation to a date.

Lucien: [with that indulgent and gentle tone again 🤧] Is this what you wish?

MC: Mm. Ever since I gained the role of a werewolf, I've often found it troublesome. There were many times when I didn't want to continue.

MC: However, just imagining moments like this, when only you and me left, makes me want to linger in this game a bit longer…

Lucien lowers his head and looks into my eyes, his gaze containing a hundred kinds of unspoken tenderness.

Lucien: From the very first second I saw you on this island—

Lucien: I had already accepted this choice.

Lucien hugs me back, letting me lead him as we sink into the water together.

The pink pool water blooms with large swaths of gorgeous crimson. At the moment he is eliminated, a chill also spreads across my waist.

Blood continues to flow from the bullet hole, and my vision quickly fades into darkness.

✂———————–

[Literal chills as I translated this part ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ. I personally like how the whole chapter echoes their relationship progression throughout the main story. Even if they're clearly on opposite sides, they always find a path where they can walk side by side—'enemies' that just want to 'play' with each other as long as possible and protect each other, with Lucien speaking out for MC during the day and MC kill everyone else but Lucien during the night🤧. Lucien's "Queen-maker" aspect is also reflected in this chapter. He guides her but doesn't dictate because he always respects her choice, no matter what it will be. In addition to that, he looks forward to every possibility she can become through her choices and cherishes them. In the end, he lets her be the one leading him to whatever end she chooses for both of them, even if it's to kill each other and die together for love༎ຶ⁠‿⁠༎ຶ ]

✂———————–

Lucien and I are transported back to the assembly hall. As soon as we open our eyes, we see the eliminated players noisily gathered together.

Brother Genius: See, there's definitely a loophole in this game! The wolves can even kill two people in one night! My attempt the other night was a breakthrough!

Uncle: A temporary setback does not define a hero. Next time, I won't be eliminated so easily.

The sound of various discussions about the game fills the air. I quickly pull Lucien to a corner.

Lucien: Is your head feeling better? Do you want to rest after the summit ends?

MC: I'm okay, I'm okay. It's strange, but as soon as the 'Carnival Night' ended, I felt much better!

MC: Hehe, just now, I was eager to end this game quickly, but now I feel a bit of regret.

MC: What about you? Did you enjoy "Carnival Night"?

Lucien gently tucks away a stray strand of hair from my face, a faint smile playing on his lips.

Lucien: I really like it, our own special ending.

MC: Hmph, I also like to watch Professor Lucien fool and confuse everyone!

MC: At that time, I could only hold back from showing any expression; otherwise, I would have given myself away.

Lucien chuckles softly twice, his expression revealing a hint of contemplation.

Lucien: However… there are still some loopholes in the game's rules and punishment system. I believe the Infinite staff overseeing it in the background already know this.

MC: That's right... I was scared several times when I was the werewolf! Once by Brother Genius, and once when I saw you in his room…

I am thinking about the feedback to give to Infinite when Lucien suddenly opens a private message, seemingly communicating with someone.

MC: Is there any work that needs to be handled?

Lucien nods and closes the private message.

Lucien: It was the research team that had visited many times, pressuring Pete to meet with me no matter what.

MC: So persistent... How does Professor Lucien plan to handle it?

Lucien: This time, they have come up with some rather interesting hypotheses. I think we can give them a chance.

I can't help but pout and reluctantly hold onto Lucien's sleeve.

MC: Well, I also need to be busy with wrapping up the summit…

MC: When we're done, let's play more "Carnival Night" rounds together!

Hearing this, Lucien can't help but chuckle softly. He leans over and whispers tenderly in my ear.

Lucien: [chuckles, then whispers] Okay. Next time, it's your turn to explore my secrets.

After bidding a brief farewell to Lucien, I headed to find Zhao Jianqiang so we could proceed to the summit venue together. However, I discovered that he was already offline.

Without giving it much thought, I click on the teleport button for the venue, and the scene before my eyes gradually darkens.

✂———————–

Okay, so some context for the next part: What happens afterward is that the Loveland City Digital Technology Summit comes to a successful close. When MC wakes up, she finds Zhao Jianqiang becoming unresponsive after playing "Carnival Night." Zhao Jianqiang is taken to the hospital. The cause of Zhao Jianqiang's condition is unknown, and his vital signs are normal. But it's notable that he briefly had high brainwaves during the game.

✂———————–

—[Chapter 60-11]—

Inside the Ultima Bioscience Research Center, sunlight streams through the windows into the office, the warm light floating in the air and illuminating the entire room.

Lucien gently removes the game headset and rubs his temples, trying to relieve the fatigue caused by being immersed in "Odyssey" for a long time.

He takes a report from the tidy desk and grabs a pen, recording on it.

Sunlight spills over Lucien's shoulder, casting dappled light and shadows, gently enveloping his figure as he occasionally pauses to think.

In the report, he records every sensation he experienced during the "Carnival Night" game in detail.

This includes headaches, accelerated heartbeat, shortness of breath, and even slight tremors in his fingertips.

After finishing the recording, he pulled out a stack of white paper from the side of the table and neatly arranged it on the desk.

Without exception, these sheets of paper are filled with his sensory data at different points in time during playing "Odyssey". The densely packed handwriting appears particularly rigorous.

Lucien gazes at the detailed notes, his eyebrows slightly furrowed. After thinking for a moment, he takes out his phone and makes a call.

Lucien: Hello, Dr. Chen, this is Lucien.

Lucien: A patient named Zhao Jianqiang was admitted today, and I hope you can provide a copy of his examination report.

The tip of Lucien's pen glided across the paper, pausing at a piece of data.

Lucien: His situation is rather unique and may provide some insights for our research.

Lucien: In times of necessity, I will not rule out requisitioning him as an experimental subject.

✂———————–

[Next Chapter-> (not yet released)]

#“ENDING THAT BELONG TO US” 🥹🥹🥹#ngl this also kinda implies that if MC gone really “bad”#Lucien still cherish her no matter what 🤧#mlqc lucien #mr love queen's choice #mlqc cn #mlqc spoiler #mlqc #mlqc translation #mr. love queen's choice #mr love lucien #mlqc xu mo #mlqc spoilers

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