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mrs-kmikaelson · 3 months ago

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Our Song and Dance⁶

Pairing: Finnick Odair x reader, Katniss Everdeen x platonic!reader Summary: You'd grown used to dancing the same dance over and over again, the victor's dance, but then you start dancing with Finnick Odair and you feel things you never thought you'd feel. So you let yourself enjoy the dance, even though you knew that every song inevitably came to an end. Warnings: mentions of torture, mentions of forced prostitution, exploitation of minors, suicidal thoughts, war, violence, murder, mind games, religious references, very complicated relationships, complex mental health issues, death, and grief Words: 12.8K

Masterlist | Series Soundtrack

a/n: ladies and gents, this is the moment you've waited for! (greatest showman reference, not excluding my enbys y'all). here it is! this is the end! just for clarity, anything in present tense means r is thinking (as always), and there's an additional a/n at the bottom. love u guys!!

When you were younger, you dreamed of being a storyteller. This wasn't your first time dwelling on that fact, but now you wondered if it'd be the last.

There was a saying your mother used to say, before your father died and she went mad. You reap what you sow. It was ironic how backwards it was in your life. First you were reaped, which then subsequently sowed the domino pieces to your fake life, all falling down to lead up to this moment.

Yes, backwards it was.

You'd barely gotten a wink of sleep before faraway booms were waking you up. You didn't flinch this time; you could tell they weren't close, but Finnick's hand on your shoulder still tightened, like he was reminding you that he was there if you so needed it.

"Mortal shells," Gale informed you, looking up at the basement's ceiling. "It's not ours. Peacekeepers must be shellin' the rebels outside of the city."

It surely didn't sound like it. Cressida must've came to the same conclusion because she soon piped up, "That's not outside the city."

Inside, then. They were inside the city.

That meant it was show time.

You separated yourself from Finnick without a word, going to prepare. In his mind, you must've just been so focused that you couldn't speak to him. In yours, it was that you were so unfocused that you wouldn't.

For the last eight years of your life, you'd been spinning stories with Finnick like there'd be no tomorrow, and now that was about to become a reality. That's why you couldn't speak to him. This was the last chapter, the last dance before the song came to a stop.

So you got ready, screwing arrowheads onto their shafts and strapping yourself with guns, moving slowly as if you were frozen in time with knowledge no one else had.

This was the end of your story.

This was the end of the song.

Music beat loudly in your ears, but it was quieted by the sound of beeping. Your eyes were drawn to a black box on the table in the corner, similar to the one you once watched Finnick from, now projecting a mandatory viewing. There was no fanfare this time, as if Snow was now realizing that there was no need to sugarcoat what was happening.

The rebels had already invaded the Capitol. If its citizen's didn't know the severity of the situation before, they sure did now.

Finnick lightly snorted behind you as Snow's face came onscreen, making you resist the urge to swat him and laugh. You wouldn't have been laughing at Snow, though—you were much too angry for that—just at the boy who still found the courage to laugh in such terrible times.

You'd miss that.

Snow began speaking right away. "To all Capitol citizens more than a half mile outside the city circle, I am announcing a mandatory evacuation." Your brows knitted together. What? A quick glance at Katniss told you that she was just as confused. "Come to my home," he beckoned. "I am promising you shelter and sanctuary. All refugees... come to my home. There, you will be provided with food, medicine, safety for your children... and you will have my solemn oath to protect you until my dying breath."

Cressida made a sarcastic quip that you didn't hear, like your head was underwater.

This doesn't feel right.

"Our enemy is not like us," he continued. "They do not share our values. They have never known our comfort and our sophistication."

Somewhere in all the muffledness you heard Finnick mutter, "No shit," but it barely registered. Your eyes were trained on the image as if it'd unravel and reveal something to you. You didn't know what there even was to reveal—everything was laid out in the open now.

So then why do I feel like something's hiding in plain sight?

"And they despise us for it. Make no mistake." Snow's voice was filled with certainty and a spite so sharp it could cut through flesh. "They are not coming to liberate us. They are coming to destroy our way of life. They are coming... to bury us." He put emphasis on his last words before the stream ended, his image cutting out with a flash.

What an interesting choice of words he used. Bury them. The people in 4 had been buried underneath rubble, so much so that you couldn't bury your own mother.

Katniss cut off your thoughts. "Is he still in the mansion?" You turned toward her, seeing her eyes already on you.

You had to clear your throat before you replied, "Yeah." You'd been in that God-awful room enough times to recognize it, even in your dreams.

She nodded absentmindedly. "Okay, where's that?"

Pointing to a map she pulled out, Cressida answered, "About five blocks away. We're right here, off the avenues." She pointed to another far-off spot. "Mansion's here."

You crossed your arms. That was a long distance. "What about the pods?" you questioned.

Cressida motioned to another part of the map. "Well, they'll probably deactivate the pods around here for the residents' safety."

"That could work." Katniss looked up at you, that same fire shining in her eyes that reminded you of her nickname. "We could get close enough."

That was the problem. You could get close enough—you could really do it.

But that felt too easy.

You didn't voice your doubts; Gale did. "Every Peacekeeper's gonna be waiting."

"Next to our faces on every billboard," Cressida cut in.

You shrugged. "Well, Snow's offering shelter to all the refugees." You could feel everyone's eyes dart to you, but you kept yours on Katniss. She understood your message right away. This was your shot.

You had to take it.

The two of you were in agreement and that's all that mattered. Nobody was going to stop you.

Katniss got up, and then after grabbing the last of your weapons, you were heading upstairs.

One shot. You had one shot.

The extravagancy of Tigris' shop was lost upon you as you threw on a large coat, listening to Cressida's directions. There would be thousands of refugees; all you had to do was join them and keep your head low.

She wished you good luck, and then you found yourself hugging this girl you'd barely known for more than a few days. But she gave you trust when you needed it, and you wouldn't ever forget it.

You knew you weren't gonna see any of these people ever again, so you might as well say goodbye.

You were halfway through thanking Tigris when Peeta's voice suddenly sounded. "Katniss, let me come with you, okay?" You saw her face fall out of the corner of your eye.

He wasn't asking; he was begging.

"I can be a good distraction. They- they know my face—"

She firmly cut him off. "No, I'm not losing you again."

"What if Peacekeepers are searching the houses?" Gale spoke up. Whether it was out of spite or concern, you couldn't tell. "And if he's captured—"

He barely got to finish his sentence before Peeta was hurriedly interrupting him. "Then give me a nightlock pill, okay? I'm not going back."

You inhaled a sharp breath. Unconsciously, your hand went to the side pocket you'd tucked your pill in. Peeta's words had reignited a fear in you that you thought you'd expelled, bringing back memories you didn't want to have at that specific moment.

Please- please, I don't want to play anymore.

You didn't know you had closed your eyes until you reopened them to Gale handing Peeta his nightlock pill. Katniss went to unlock his cuffs, and that's when you looked away, getting the feeling you were intruding on something private.

Instead your eyes went to the very person you were avoiding. You met Finnick's blue eyes easily. Pretty blue eyes the colour of the ocean, your favourite colour.

Your favourite person.

A smile crept onto your face without your knowing. This was exactly why you were supposed to be avoiding him, but as you watched your best friend with the boy she loved, disregarding everything just to say goodbye, you couldn't help but want to do the same. You knew you already said goodbye to him, but you were already running out of time; why waste what little of it you had left?

One last time, you told yourself, just one last time to drown in his ocean.

You made your way over to him across the room, and before you could even get a word out, he said, "I want to come with you, too." You opened your mouth to protest— "But I'm not gonna ask you to."

You furrowed your brows. "Wha—"

Finnick lazily draped an arm over your shoulder, yet at the same time there was nothing lazy about the action at all. That, coupled with him brushing strands of hair out of your face, made you go silent. He was quiet, too, just staring at you.

The way he was looking at you reminded you of the way he examined his surroundings in the Quell, trying to remember where everything was.

It was like he was trying to commit your face to memory.

After a moment, he explained, "I know you won't let me." Of course, you wouldn't.

You weren't gonna let him watch you die.

You sighed, "I'm sorry—"

With his voice as soft as silk, he chided, "Don't be sorry." His lips quirked upward while he caressed your hair. "Just come back to me in one piece so we can have that talk?"

You tried your best to reciprocate his smile. "I will." Liar.

Terrified that he'd see through your façade, you pulled him in, wounding your arms around him tightly. He held you just as tight. Only when your face was no longer in his view did you screw your eyes shut, willing yourself not to cry.

You'd stay like this forever if you could.

But you couldn't.

Behind you, someone cleared their throat, which meant your time was up. You had to go now.

Slowly, you unwrapped your arms from Finnick's body, wanting to hold onto him for as long you could. By the time you fully let go, you felt like something was missing. And there was.

Finnick Odair would always hold your heart in his hands.

You flashed him one last smile before you turned around. You wouldn't say you loved him before you left, and perhaps you'd regret that, but if you heard him say it back, you didn't know if you'd have the willpower to leave.

Déjà vu crashed into you like a tidal wave. You lived this moment before, saying goodbye then turning your back and walking away.

I'll see you at midnight?

Yeah, I'll see you at midnight.

You didn't see him at midnight. But you came back. It wasn't the same you that came back, but you did, eventually.

You came back before.

This time, you wouldn't.

You and Katniss set off, finding the crowd immediately. It was a sea of people, impossible to miss. You joined them easily; if you were tentative, you'd get caught, so you had to march with them like you belonged.

There were dozens of Peacekeepers lining the sides of the path. When you glanced up, you found even more on the balconies of buildings, which quickly made you duck your head back down.

If you so much as removed your hood, they could identify you. And you refused to die before Snow did first.

The two of you were silent as you moved forward. There was that feeling in your chest again, the feeling that you were supposed to be saying something, but if anybody recognized your voice, you'd both be as good as dead. Katniss must've felt that pressure, too, but she didn't speak up about it, either.

On a whim, you glanced up ahead of you. You immediately regretted it when a child's eyes locked on yours.

Shit.

She was clutching onto a woman's shoulder—her mother's, you assumed. You prayed that she was too young to recognize you or too tired to make the connection, but then her head lifted up and you knew it didn't matter.

She recognized you.

You glanced away from the kid before looking back. Her gaze didn't move but neither did her mouth.

She recognized you, but she wasn't going to say anything.

You were about to breathe a sigh of relief before Katniss tapped your arm, motioning ahead. Your eyes travelled to where she was gesturing, and you could've sworn your heart stopped.

Peacekeepers.

They were checking people. You wouldn't get past them and you both knew it, so you swiftly turned around without another word. Except they were behind you, too, sweeping through the crowd.

Fuck.

You turned forward again, your heart and your mind racing in tandem to find a way out of this. You don't know what you could've possibly come up with.

You don't even think you were breathing.

Your fingers were inching their way to the gun on your hip just as a hand went to your shoulder. But before either of you could do anything, a loud boom sounded, sending you to the ground.

People were shouting everywhere all at once, mixing in with the music so you couldn't hear a thing. Your ears rang but you could still hear someone bellow, "It's the rebels!"

You glanced backward, and their yell was proven correct. A mob of rebels marched forward in a line, shooting at every guard in white they saw.

Another explosion reverberated through the battlefield, making you cup your ears. You couldn't hold back the pained cry that left you.

You looked forward, your eyes finding the same little girl from earlier, her yellow coat now tainted with dirt. She was kneeling above her mother's body, screaming. Tears sparked in your eyes.

That girl's mother was dead.

But you couldn't end up like her.

Quickly, you gathered your bearing, ushering Katniss up. "Come on!" She was stagnant, but as soon as you pulled her up, she was back from wherever she'd gone to. And then the two of you were running.

You jumped behind a barricade, only stopping momentarily. There was a Peacekeeper lying on the ground in front of you. Good, you thought. You could use his gun.

You untangled the rifle from his hands, kicking him down when he started moving. Then you were running forward again.

You ran like never before, stopping only to check that Katniss was still with you. Explosions went off on your way, shaking the ground. Some were too close, but you kept running.

Whether it was your sheer will or the adrenaline pumping through your body, you couldn't stop, not when you were so close. The gate was in your view now. You pushed through the crowd, not caring if your hood fell off in the process. There was too much chaos for anyone to notice.

The people were restless, a robotic voice trying and failing to pacify them. You were so busy climbing up a tank, trying to get a better a look at the palace, that you barely caught it. The gates will open momentarily, it was saying. The children will be received first. Stay calm. Bring your children forward.

That... that didn't sound right.

No, it did. It did sound right. It was right to bring the children forward first.

And that's exactly why it sounded wrong.

President Snow had never cared about children—why would he start now? It was puzzling; it didn't make any sense. But you couldn't make sense of it. You're forgetting why you're here, Y/N.

You shook your head, trying to bring yourself back to your objectives and not watch as the Peacekeepers lifted children from their parents' arms, but then something else caught your attention.

Whirring.

Your eyes shot to the sky where there was a lone hovercraft flying, Panem's emblem painted onto the wings. Not one of yours.

The hovercraft flew by. You don't know what you could've possibly expected, but you certainly didn't expect for it to drop parachutes in its wake.

"Gifts from the Capitol!" someone cheered.

The pit in your stomach returned, no matter how hard you'd just tried to get rid of it. The parachutes fell like they were in slow motion. You couldn't tell if they were truly moving so slowly or if was just you.

The world seemed to stop. The dance seemed to stop. And then everything clicked.

But you were too late.

Your eyes widened. "No—"

BOOM.

You were thrown through the air, landing somewhere hard. The wind was knocked out of you. At first, you were choking on nothing until you finally gained the ability to wheeze. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes.

This time, you couldn't hear anything. No screams, no more shooting. No more music at all.

The music came to a screeching halt. The record didn't skip. It just stopped.

It occurred to you then that the fucking needle must've just scratched the vinyl, because the music restarted. But it wasn't the same.

You shot upward, coughing your lungs away and waving dust out of your face. You stumbled as you got up—that was a misstep.

Dancing, dancing, dancing, dancing—

Katniss.

Where's Katniss?

Frantically, your eyes darted everywhere. She wasn't beside you. She wasn't in front of you. You spun around, dancing, and she wasn't behind you either.

You wanted to scream her name, but you didn't. She's fine, you reassured yourself. She had to be fine—she was right next to you when the bombs went off. You just had to find her.

Your eyes scanned the scene in front of you, just now really looking at it. Bodies littered the ground, medics and Peacekeepers alike rushing to the wounded. So many wounded. You'd never seen so many bodies in one place.

You looked for a woman in a blue cloak among them. You didn't find her. But you did find someone else that was oddly familiar.

A blonde. A young blonde in a medic's uniform.

You know, I used to be jealous of you.

Jealous of me?

No, that couldn't be—

You have a family that really loves you, that beautiful sister of yours.

You blinked as if it'd make her disappear, but when you opened your eyes, she was still there, not a figment of your imagination at all. She was there.

And then she wasn't.

You had just opened your mouth, but the words died in your throat. "Prim—"

It all happened faster than you could register it.

You saw the flames first. Light travelled faster than sound. Then you heard it—the explosion. And then you felt it. You felt it more forcefully than any of the other ones, shockwaves rippling through your body.

And then you felt nothing.

The last time you awoke in the Capitol, you could feel that something bad was about to happen to you. Dread flowed through your veins like it was blood, infecting every part of you. It was as if a dark cloud hung over your head, a voice in your ear telling you to keep your eyes closed for as long as you could, to enjoy the rest while you still had it.

This time, your eyes fluttered open on their own accord. Your eyelids weren't as heavy. Your body wasn't as sore. But there was a still a weight on your chest.

The dread was still there.

Then the memories flooded back to you.

Bombs. And Primrose Everdeen.

No. You had to have been hallucinating.

With that thought, you blinked, suddenly becoming aware of your surroundings. The lights were fluorescent, but they weren't blinding like typical hospital lights—and there was an incessant beeping noise, but it wasn't very loud. You gathered that this wasn't a hospital room; it was more like a triage centre.

There was a shuffling to your right that you directed your attention to. It was a blonde woman tending to a sleeping brunette's wounds. You blinked again, and then you realized that brunette was Katniss.

You let out a sigh of relief. She was okay.

Your eyes then immediately flickered to the other presence in the room. Haymitch stood between yours and Katniss' beds. He was already looking at you.

You didn't greet him; the two of you were past that. "Is it—"

"Yes." He seemed to understand without any explanation. Your eyes fell shut for a moment then, taking it in, and he let you.

The war was over.

You won.

But this didn't feel like winning.

When you opened your eyes, Haymitch seemed to already know what you were thinking. That's what you liked about him: no nonsense, no bullshit, no trying to sugarcoat something that was so clearly sour. Just straight to the point.

"It was over after the Capitol dropped those bombs to defend the Palace. Rebels took it right after." He paused, eyes glossing over with a look you knew all too well. "Everybody felt it—Peacekeepers, Palace guards... kids. It was, uh... it was over after that."

You could remember that. The children reaching up in the air, trying to grab what they thought were gifts from their beloved Capitol. Bombs exploded in their faces. You wondered if they were strong enough to kill on impact.

You hoped they were.

Children crying for their parents. Parents crying for their children. All of the sounds melded together eventually.

But you won. You won, didn't you?

Didn't you?

He changed topics. You think it was too hard for him to talk about, too, and that was almost absurd. You never thought you'd see the day that Haymitch Abernathy shied away from anything, yet here you were.

"Your injuries are minor," he told you. "Damage is superficial. You got off unscathed." Did you? "They wanted to take you right to the Palace, but I figured you'd want to change your own clothes."

He said it casually, but the implication was there. That made you crack a smile, or at least the best smile you could give. "Thanks, H."

He nodded in acknowledgement but otherwise didn't mention it. The victors didn't talk about those sorts of things, not up until recently. You knew what happened to him, to his family, his girlfriend. And he always knew what was happening to you, but it was never spoken out loud. The things that happened in the dark were never meant to be brought under the spotlight.

So Finnick brought out the sun. And now, every secret, every body, and every monster under the bed was out in the open for everyone to see.

You just never thought the sun would burn so much.

Your gaze travelled over to the blonde woman, still at work, applying some type of ointment to Katniss' neck. She hadn't said a word.

You suddenly realized that you were staring at Carine Everdeen.

You looked back to Haymitch, then Carine, then back at him, a question lying silently in your eyes. You opened your mouth, but you didn't need to. Haymitch just nodded, a solemn countenance overtaking his face. At his confirmation, you felt yourself physically deflate.

You weren't hallucinating.

Prim was dead.

You sat there with that information for a bit, unknowing of what to do with it. Katniss' innocent little sister was dead, caught in the crossfire of a fight she should've never had to live through.

Katniss only ever volunteered to spare her sister.

And now she was dead, anyway.

She deserved to be acknowledged. You didn't know what to say, but she deserved the effort. Prim deserved the world.

Your voice was just barely above a whisper, hoarse from either the lack of use or remorse, perhaps both. "Mrs. Everdeen?"

Her hands paused mid-movement. She slowly turned around to look at you. Only, she wasn't looking at you. She wasn't really there.

You could count the number of times you spoke to Carine on one hand. It'd only ever been in passing, a hello here and there. She wasn't close with Katniss, therefore, she wasn't close with you. But right now, it didn't matter how close you were at all.

Somehow, everyone felt so faraway.

You swallowed. "I'm so sorry."

She was silent, but you could see every word she wasn't speaking in her eyes. Sadness, regret, anger, devastation. Grief. For a second, you could see her come back, but she was gone just as quickly as she reappeared.

"Me, too."

The ride from the triage centre to the Palace was all a blur. Somewhere in between everything, you got dressed into your own clothes, not the ones from 13. You briefly wondered how they got ahold of them.

Katniss was still there, sleeping. Maybe she woke up by now. You just needed to get out of there. Haymitch had told you that Finnick was en route, and you asked him to help you get out before he got there, to just tell him that they'd taken you to the Palace right away like they originally planned.

You didn't know why you did that, but you just knew you couldn't talk to him. Not yet.

They gave you a random room then left you there after you asked them to. You were sure they weren't supposed to do that, probably on Coin's orders, but the glare you sent them must've been real bad because they went scurrying out like mice.

You exhaled when they closed the door, finally alone. For a second, you felt like you could breathe again. And then you caught a glimpse of the bed and it was back to feeling like you were suffocating.

Crimson red sheets, gold accents. A ginormous velvet head board. A huge comforter that would likely warm you up— God, you were still so cold.

But you'd lied on a bed just like that before. And you were just as cold then, even with the warm body lying right next to you.

You cupped your mouth, knees buckling, but your other trembling hand grasped onto the chair right in front of you. You held onto that crest for dear life, simultaneously holding back a sob.

Calm down, Y/N. Just stop.

You were trying— you were fucking trying. But then your eyes zeroed in on items on the table in front of you. They blended in with the rest of the extravagant decor of this room, but once you saw them, it was all you could see.

A crown.

And a vase of fucking roses.

You screamed, letting go of the chair and throwing the vase the ground, not caring if any of the shards hit you. The crown was next. Then you were tumbling down to the ground, too.

The dam in your eyes broke, tears flooding down your cheeks with no sign of stopping. Sobs wracked through your body.

It hurt. It fucking hurt. Not your legs. Not your back. Not your ears. Your heart. You clawed at your chest relentlessly, pleading for the pain to go away.

"Please," you cried. "Please make it stop." You don't know who you were crying to. You hadn't prayed in ages— you didn't even know what you believed in anymore. All you knew was that you were on your knees, begging for any God to listen.

But nobody answered.

You might've sat on the floor of that room for hours—you truly didn't know. You cried until you didn't have tears anymore, until you were numb. You just sat there after that, staring at the ground, at the crown you threw.

So much power that a single object had over you. It was a mask. A contract. A lie. A trick painted in gold. Your legacy.

It was your fucking poison.

Heavy is the head that wears the crown, they said.

They didn't know the half of it.

After a while, you got sick of staring at it, forcing yourself up and immediately turning to the door. You were exhausted, sure, and you'd sleep eventually, but not on that bed.

You turned the knob on the door and shut it behind you, knowing it was unlikely that you'd return to it. You made your way through the Palace like it was second nature; you knew this place well. Dozens of parties and faux appearances would do that to you.

The Palace only held poor memories for you. Here, your life as a marionette began, and you hadn't known anything different since. What person would want to stay in a place like that, a place that symbolized the moment their life changed forever?

Getting reaped might've been when your life went downhill, but your life became Snow's the second you stepped into his home.

You found yourself pulling the French doors to the backyard open, wanting to feel a cold that didn't come from your own body. The ground was covered in a blanket of white that crunched beneath your feet. Only a thin jacket protected you from the air sharply licking your skin, but you welcomed the feeling.

You didn't know what you were doing, but when you saw two men guarding the Rose Garden, you couldn't help but be pulled to it, like you still had strings attached to your limbs.

You were just reaching the doors when one of the guards stepped in front of them, his hand out. "Sorry, Princess. Can't let you pass."

His statement caused you to intake a deep breath, whether it was from the actual statement itself or the name that so happened to spill from his lips. You had half a mind to argue with him—you weren't sure if you were in your right mind at all—until a familiar voice ordered, "Let her in."

You turned your head, seeing Paylor stood on the steps you had just walked down.

If you were in a better state of mind, you might've smiled.

"On my authority. She has a right to anything behind that door."

You didn't smile, but you settled for a nod. You weren't sure if your eyes translated correctly, but when she nodded back, you knew she received your message.

You weren't just thanking her for this.

Without another thought, you turned back to the garden. The guards opened the glass doors for you, letting you in. Immediately, your nostrils were flooded with the rich scent of earth. Green plants and bushes were everywhere, the most vibrant colour of green you'd ever seen in your life. You wondered if light hit differently in the Capitol, allowing people to see colours you didn't have back home.

Then you thought back to how people here had ignored the black tendrils engulfing the city for so long, and you realized that: yes, light must have hit differently here. It was impossible to ignore the darkness otherwise.

White roses were everywhere. It made you sick, but you stopped the bile from rising. There were so many. You used to wonder why Snow seemed so obsessed with flowers, why he wore them on his person at all times, but you supposed it was no secret anymore.

Help cover the scent of blood from sores in his mouth that will never heal.

Your eyes were trained on one of the roses when a voice cut through your daze. "That's a nice one."

Instantly, every part of your body stiffened, but you ignored every instinct screaming at you to spin around. You refused to give him the satisfaction.

"The colours are lovely, of course. But nothing says perfection like white."

Your jaw locked, and you made good effort to relax it before you turned around. Seeing him there with that smile on his face nearly made you crumble, but you stood tall, echoing, "Ironic, isn't it? How a man so tainted tries to fool the world with an illusion of purity."

His grin only widened. "I was hoping you would find your way here. I knew you would." You wanted to slap the grin off his face and strangle him until the smugness in his voice disappeared. Your hands clenched by your sides, and judging by the way his eyes twinkled, he saw.

He sat down on a ledge, musing, "You always were my greatest achievement."

The words were being spat from your mouth before you could stop them. "I am not your anything."

He tilted his head just ever so slightly, staring at you with pools of condescension as if telling you that wasn't true. It wasn't true, and he knew you knew it.

"I have a feeling your visit will be brief, so let's not waste our time, shall we?" You hated the way the word our rolled off his tongue, but you didn't show it on your face.

Snow cut himself off with a cough, bringing his handkerchief to his mouth. When he lowered it, it was spotted in blood. "Please offer my condolences to Ms. Everdeen about her sister." He tutted to himself. "So wasteful. So unnecessary."

You scoffed a humourless chuckle. "Really?"

"Why, yes, dear," he replied, shaking his head for effect. "Anyone could see the game was over by that point. In fact, I was just about to issue an official surrender when they released those parachutes."

A scowl crawled onto your face. "What the hell are you on about? You released those parachutes."

"You really think I gave the order?" He leaned forward in his seat, his eyes peering into your soul. You didn't once look away. "We both know I'm not above killing children. But I am not wasteful." He stressed the word like it was disgraceful to him. "I take life for... specific reasons. And there was no reason for me to destroy a pen full of Capitol children— none at all—"

He was cut off by another cough. It did little to disturb you; you were already disgusted from the moment he began talking. Every word he spoke was careful and calculated. Listening to him explain his rhyme and reason wasn't something you were interested in. What reason could he possibly have for what he'd done?

He took the lives of everyone he met. Every person you cared about had fallen victim to his schemes. Katniss. Johanna. Peeta. Finnick. He took your mother's life— he took your life.

There was nothing he could say to ever make you understand his perspective.

Once he stopped coughing and looked back up at you, the smile was right back on his face like it never left. "I must concede, it was a masterful move on Coin's part," he admitted. The second he uttered Coin's name, you tensed even more than you thought possible. Humour laced through his voice. "The idea that I was bombing our own helpless children to hold back the rebels... it turned the last of my guards against me. There was no resistance left inside the Capitol or the mansion." He leaned forward again, like he was letting you in on a little secret. "Do you know it aired live? There's a... particular savvy in that, isn't there?"

You were afraid that, if he kept talking, you wouldn't be able to hold back the bile in your throat. He's crazy. This was Coriolanus Snow, a man who rose to the top by knocking down anything or anyone that stood in his way. You couldn't trust a word that came out of his mouth.

Yet you were still compelled to listen to him.

The moment you met Coin flashed behind your eyes as you blinked. You felt the sensation of shaking her hand all over again. Every encounter you ever had with her ran through your mind.

You thought back to when you were in 2 and her and Commander Lyme disagreed.

You've been underground a long time, Madam Coin. This isn't like the rest of Panem. Support for the Capitol runs deep here.

Then there is no sacrifice too great.

Snow pulled you out of your trance. "I'm sure she wasn't gunning for that Everdeen girl, but... these things happen in war." It was as if he could see the gears in your head spinning out of control.

Spinning, spinning, spinning—

"My failure was in being so slow to grasp Coin's plan," he proclaimed. "She let the Capitol and the districts destroy one another, then she stepped in to take power with 13's arsenal. Oh, make no mistake." He chuckled. "She intends to take my place now."

Your skin was crawling. You felt the urge to rip it off.

Something about his smile became more harrowing, like he was placing down his final piece on the chess board. "But I've been watching you. And you watching me." You dug your nails into your skin. "I'm afraid we've both been played for fools."

No.

"You're lying." You didn't even sound convincing to yourself.

He tutted once more. "Y/N, my dear, I may have done many things, but have I ever once lied to you?"

You were gonna be sick. You turned around before he could see the tears gathering in your eyes.

This was over.

You went for the door, but just as you were about to knock on it and alert the guards, Snow stopped you in your tracks. "I see so much of myself in you, Y/N."

You felt your lips tremble, but not a single tear raced down your cheek. You didn't allow it.

Slowly, you turned around, your voice quiet but firm. "I am nothing like you," you avowed—to him and to yourself.

You didn't spend another second wasting your time looking at him, going to knock on the door as he broke into a fit of coughing. That coughing transformed into laughter.

Snow laughed maniacally as you left the garden and didn't stop. You could hear him laughing as you powered through his backyard, echoing in the empty space.

And even when you were back inside the Palace, his laugh still followed you.

You found a random hallway in the mansion, the first one that didn't remind you of anything, and you immediately went to the wall closest to you, leaning your forehead against it and inhaling a shaky breath.

Get your shit together, you scolded.

You already broke down once today. You didn't deserve another breakdown— no, you couldn't afford another breakdown. You needed time to think.

Did you believe Snow? Was this just his last way of fucking with you before he died, trying to get the last laugh by absolving himself of the blame? He had to know that he'd reached the end of the line, that he'd be dying at your hands.

He lost, and you won. The war was over—all that was left to do was kill him.

Katniss' voice suddenly rang through your head. This isn't right, she'd said, mourning the possibility of innocent life being lost before it even happened. You remembered your response to that, too.

It's fire catching, Everdeen.

A shiver ran through your body. Was this what fire catching looked like? Children dying. Hundreds of people with their lives forever altered—hundreds of people injured or killed by those bombs going off. Fire caught onto them.

This didn't feel like a win. Mulling over Snow's accusations in your head, it all made sense. There were no victors in an arena. You deluded yourself into thinking this was anything other than a game while Coin was playing her winning card.

You remembered what it was like in the arena, surviving off of ruthlessness, uncaring of what'd happen to anyone else as long as it meant you got to win.

But this wasn't meant to be a game.

I see so much of myself in you, Y/N.

You didn't want to be like that anymore. You didn't want to play anymore.

"Y/N?"

You turned around, being met with the Girl on Fire standing across from you on the other side of the hallway. That was the name Caesar gave her from her first Tribute Parade, but you no longer found it appropriate.

The Girl on Fire was the girl who volunteered in place of her sister.

The woman that stood in front of you now had her sister killed by the very thing that once defined her.

You made it a point to never call her that again.

Katniss Everdeen was her name. She was The Mockingjay. And somehow, she became your best friend. So then and there, as you stared at one another, you knew that you had to tell her what Snow said, regardless of what you believed.

Softly, you told her, "We have to talk."

Yet no matter how soft your voice was, you don't think anything could have ever softened the blow.

Katniss took you to her room, and there, you told her everything. When you were done explaining, she looked so empty but so full of so many emotions at the same time.

Do you believe it? she asked you.

I don't know, you responded. I don't know.

You sat there with her and gave her time to absorb it, not saying another word. The two of you sat there in silence until Gale came and fetched you, saying that Coin wanted to speak with you both.

You got up and left the room but closed the door on your way out. She wanted to talk to him—she needed to.

You were there waiting for her when she was done, and you pretended you didn't watch Gale leave the room with tears in his eyes.

Side by side, you walked to Snow's cabinet room with you leading the way. No one told you it'd be there, but you had a strong suspicion that that'd be Coin's choice. When you found two armed guards in front of the double doors, you were proven correct—and you didn't know why that unnverved you so much.

About 20 feet away from the doors, you held your arm out in front of Katniss, effectively stopping her. You had sat in silence with her for who knew how long, but now was one of those moments when you felt like you had to say something, and you were gonna take it before you got within earshot of those guards.

You stepped in front of her slightly so you could look at her, and for a moment, you lost your footing. It wasn't like you saw Katniss anything other than indifferent often, but this look struck you to the core.

Perhaps it was the thin line of her lips. Maybe it was the emptiness in her eyes, no emotion in sight. Or maybe it was how you felt like you were staring into a mirror.

But she deserved so much better than being you.

Katniss Everdeen deserved the justice you never had.

You didn't know how to say all of this, nor did you know if she was in the headspace to listen, so you made sure she was looking at you when you spoke. "Do what you have to do," you whispered.

She stared at you for a few seconds, empty, but in all the darkness of her eyes you could see a faint light shine. Clarity.

She understood.

She gave you a small nod, and then you were moving out of the way, finishing your walk to the conference room. You might've been vague, but you knew your point was received. Whatever she wanted to do from this point forward, you'd stand by it.

The ball was in her court now.

The men in front of the doors gave you short nods of acknowledgement before stoically opening the doors. When they did, you weren't met only with Coin. This was a room full of victors.

And even though you suspected they hadn't been chatty before you entered, they were now radio silent.

Your eyes immediately locked with Finnick's, and you would've exhaled if you weren't under the microscope. He's okay. He's okay, and you knew that already, Y/N. You knew he was okay, but being told that wasn't the same as seeing him in person.

You didn't think you'd get to see those blue eyes again.

But you were.

Finnick flashed you a soft smile. It wasn't his classic Finnick smile, the one he'd throw at cameras and crowds. He was visibly exhausted, but he still found it in himself to smile at you.

It was the least you could do to smile back, even if it wasn't as dazzling as his.

"What's this?" the brunette beside you questioned, knocking you out of your trance. Her voice was cold and detached, but you noticed something now that wasn't there before. Deep underneath that ice was red, hot anger.

From Coin's response, you doubted she caught it. "The remaining victors." She gestured to the table. "Won't you join us?" Behind her, Johanna held out her arms, too, a mocking smile on her face that would've made you laugh if you weren't so tired.

You followed Katniss' lead, taking the last two seats at the table while also taking a cursory glance of the room. Beetee, Enobaria, Haymitch, Johanna, Finnick, Peeta, and Annie. You frowned. She was supposed to be on her honeymoon, not back in the Capitol—probably never back in the Capitol. But she glanced at you and you smiled, anyway.

"I have invited you all here for several reasons, but first, I have an announcement." Both Coin's words and her tone of made you look back at her, but then something else caught your attention.

Even under the glare of all the chandeliers in the room, you could still see the glint in her eye.

"I have taken the burden and the honour of declaring myself interim President of Panem."

Oh, you could've laughed. Even though there wasn't a single thing funny about it.

You settled for narrowing your eyes; meanwhile, Haymitch scoffed. "Interim? Exactly how long is that interim?"

Coin's hands remained clasped on the table, and she didn't flinch. "We have no way of knowing for certain. But it's clear that the people are far too emotional right now to make a rational decision." Her voice was calm and collected, if not condescending. "We'll plan an election when the time is right."

You hummed, and even though she undoubtedly heard you, she ignored it.

"But I have called you here for a far more important vote." She finally look her hands off the table, leaning back. "A symbolic vote."

Everyone in this room is a symbol in some way, you thought, but you held your tongue. Symbols didn't mean much to people who had been turned into nothing more than just that, but the thought must've escaped her.

"This afternoon, we will execute Snow. Hundreds of his accomplices also await their deaths. Capitol officials, Peacekeepers, torturers, Gamemakers. But the danger is, once we begin, the rebels will not stop calling for retribution." Dread crept into your stomach. Whatever she was going to propose, you wouldn't like it. "Thirst for blood is a difficult urge to satisfy. So... I offer an alternative plan. Majority of five may approve it— no one may abstain." She gave you a pointed glance. "The proposal is this. In lieu of these barbaric executions, we hold a symbolic Hunger Games."

Somehow, the room got quieter.

You fought to keep your face impassive—though, you were unknowing if you succeeded. You could only hope that the years of pretending paid off.

In lieu? What the hell did that mean? She wanted to spare a horde of evil people in exchange for the lives of innocents? That didn't make any sense.

But then you realized, powerful people. It'd be sparing powerful people.

Johanna broke the silence with a laugh. It bounced off the decorated walls like rubber. "You wanna have another Hunger Games with— the Capitol's children?"

Peeta monotoned, "You're joking."

"Not in the slightest," Coin responded.

You glanced at Katniss. She was mute, just staring staring straight at Coin. They all might've thought she was in shock, grieving, but you knew the truth.

It was all falling into place for her.

Finnick let out a scoff. "Is this Plutarch's idea?"

If you didn't know any better, you would've thought the look on Coin's face was offense and not pride. "It was mine." There was another scoff in the room, probably from Haymitch that time. "It balances the need for revenge... with the least loss of human life."

The least loss of valuable of human life.

"You may cast your votes—"

"No," Peeta cut her off immediately, voting first. "No, obviously not. This is crazy."

"I think it's more than fair," Jo chimed in. "Snow's got a granddaugter. I say yes." You didn't judge her for that answer, even if you didn't agree with it. All of you had felt pain at the hands of the Capitol, but you couldn't possibly imagine condemning anyone else to the same fate.

Capitol children or not, they were still children. They weren't symbols; they were human. And you refused to join any line of thinking that said otherwise.

"So do I," Enobaria said, her red lips curving into a smile that made you remember when those lips were once coated in blood. "Let them have a taste of it."

"You guys, this way of thinking is what started these uprisings." Peeta's voice was incredulous.

Annie spoke up. "I vote no. With Peeta." Despite the decision in her tone, she cast a worried glance your way right after. Why haven't you said anything? her eyes read.

You looked away from them.

"No," Beetee voted. "We need to stop viewing each other as enemies."

Finally, the voice you were waiting for sparked. "You have to be kidding me right now." Finnick had a baffled smile on his face, and you had a feeling he was going to start saying a few choice words.

And you didn't know why just yet, but you couldn't let him.

Before he could get his vote in, you blurted, "Yes." His head immediately snapped to yours, and you felt instant regret when his eyes met yours. In the swirls of all the blue, you could see betrayal.

The bile that you worked so hard to suppress earlier was back rising, but you wouldn't let it leave. He had to understand. You had to make him understand.

You kept your eyes on his, no matter how sick it made you feel, pleading to him silently. His own words echoed through your head.

Please just trust me.

Trust you to do what?

I just need you to trust me, Y/N, please. Trust me.

You did. You trusted him, even when you didn't understand it at all, and now you were just begging him to return the favour.

You closed your for a brief second. Please just trust me, Finnick.

"Yes." Your eyes flew wide open to see him already looking at you. He maintained your stare before looking back to Coin. "You've got my yes, too."

He said yes. But really, he was saying so much more than that.

I trust you.

Coin nodded, disclosing, "It's down to Katniss and Haymitch." Majority of five. Only one of them had to say yes for her plan to take off, and you already knew which one of them it'd be.

Coin's eyes narrowed while Katniss remained expressionless, and in that moment, it was clear that The Hunger Games wasn't the one Coin was proposing. It was this, and President Coin was the Gamemaker and engineer behind it all. This was a game of cat and mouse.

Only Coin wasn't the cat.

After a beat of silence, Katniss finally spoke. "I get to kill Snow," she dictated.

A few pairs of eyes flitted to you, but you only focused on one of them. Coin glanced at you, and when you didn't object, she obliged, "Of course."

The room was back to silence, but your mind was anything but. What you heard were strings, brass, percussion, and a whole orchestra of instruments. A cacophony of noise and voices singing about a necklace of hope, only getting louder, and louder, and louder, and louder—

And then the beat dropped.

"Then I vote yes." That's five. For the first time since you entered the room, there was a crack in Katniss' voice. "For Prim."

That was nearly a warning, but if Coin caught the edge to her voice, she didn't say anything about it. You think she was so consumed by satisfaction that she wouldn't have been able to notice, anyway.

She turned her attention to Haymitch if not just to stay true to her words. No one may abstain. "Haymitch?"

Katniss and Haymitch shared a gaze for a few seconds, and then he looked to you, and to Finnick, before he was looking back to Coin. He didn't agree with this, but he still lied, "I'm with the, uh, Mockingjay."

Coin nodded, poorly stifling a smile. You wondered how anyone could smile at the news of a slaughter. "That carries the vote. Excellent. We'll announce The Games tonight after the execution."

And that was it. She got what she wanted. She won.

But as you glanced at Katniss to see the emptiness returning to her eyes, you had a feeling that wouldn't last very long.

Stylists brought you to your room and did your hair for you, taking the locks and forming them into the braided updo that the people had grown to love. It was a crown—that's why they liked it so much. You would've preferred to leave your hair as it was, but you compromised that you'd do the hair if they didn't make you wear that ridiculous costume.

Cinna was an impeccable designer, but if you could go forever without wearing that suit, it'd still be too soon.

On your way into your room, the stylists ignored the broken glass on the floor, stepping over it and sending each other looks that they thought were discreet. They weren't.

When they saw the crown lying on the floor, too, they didn't dare ask you to wear it.

They left soon after little small talk, though you didn't think they blamed you. You looked like shit before they got to fixing you up, making you look like you'd actually slept.

Your lips were no longer pale, coated in lipstick that didn't look like lipstick. You supposed the "natural" element was part of the Princess façade. They did something that made your cheeks look less hollow and more rosy, and they concealed the bags under your eyes pretty nicely.

Now, you looked like the Princess.

But she doesn't exist, a voice reminded you. She's not you.

You tilted your head at the woman in the mirror. She wasn't your reflection; she was a mirage. You didn't see yourself in any of it, but you didn't see yourself before they added all the glamour, either.

Who are you, Y/N?

You swore to yourself you'd find out.

After slipping on your coat, you left the room, promising never to see it again. You were walking to the front when you saw a woman in five inch heels and silvers tassles exiting a room, a big blonde wig on her head with sharp silver ticks pinned into it that looked like they could stab her if she fell the wrong way.

She glanced to the side and saw you before you could greet her, beating you to it. "Oh, Y/N!" A big grin came to her face as she marched her way over to you, heels clicking against the floor adamantly. You think she would've skipped if she could've.

Her arms wrapped themselves around your frame before you could even think about protesting. "How lovely it is to see you!" she exclaimed.

Your humour trumped your discomfort, making you laugh and reciprocate the hug. "Hi, Effie." When she pulled away, you were quick to cut to the chase, knowing she'd talk your ear off for ages if you gave her the chance. You nodded to the doors she walked out of. "Is Katniss in there?"

"Oh, yes— yes, dear!" She ushered you to the doors. "Go right ahead!"

"Thank you." Effie uttered something along the lines of 'no problem' before opening the doors and practically closing them within the same breath.

The smile that was on your face promptly dropped when you saw Katniss, looking no better than earlier, but you made quick work to bring it back. "Hey, Everdeen." You tried to make your voice light, but the heaviness in the air didn't dissipate.

She turned to you after just a second too long, almost like she hadn't heard you. A grimace crossed her face, but you could tell it was her attempt at a smile.

You stood there for a bit, keeping your hands at your sides. There wasn't much more to say—this was it. After this, you didn't know what'd happen. What would life even be like without being crushed by the Capitol's thumb? Would you go home? Did you even have one?

You didn't know how any of this would play out, but you did know that whatever ending Katniss wrote, it would likely end in the two of you separating. You'd both go home, and you'd no longer see the girl you got so used to. Realistically, you'd only been in close quarters for a month, but before that, you were isolated. Katniss helped you get acclimated with the revolution and gave you hope for a better world, and now you'd be going into it without her.

She wouldn't be at your side anymore, but you wanted her to know that you'd be standing behind her regardless.

In two strides, you were embracing her in your arms before you could think better of it. She froze, stiffening, and you were just about to let go and apologize when she engulfed you with the exact same fervour.

Your lips curved upward, and that time, it wasn't forced.

Eventually, you pulled back, resting your hands on her forearms. Her eyes didn't look so empty anymore.

You wanted to thank her for everything she'd done for you without knowing it, for saving your life in more ways than one. You wanted to tell her you loved her.

You opened your mouth, but she cut you off before you could even try. "I know." She nodded, the slighest quirk of her lips visible. "I know." Pause. "Me, too."

She knew. You didn't need to say it, and neither did she.

Things weren't okay—they probably wouldn't be for a while, but in that moment, you knew they'd get better one day, even if you wouldn't be around each other to see it.

You nodded back at her, and you squeezed her arms one last time, whispering, "Don't do anything I wouldn't do, Katniss."

And then you were letting her, walking away and leaving her alone while you still could. If you'd stayed any longer, you don't know if you would've left.

There was nothing left unsaid, and those were the best kinds of endings. But it was an ending, and that left you with bittersweet feelings you couldn't name.

Deep down, you knew you probably wouldn't see her again, and perhaps that was why you didn't meet the cars waiting for you at the front. If that was the last you saw her, you wanted that to be your last encounter.

And, so, your last memory of Katniss Everdeen was in that room.

The word revolution, in the least words possible, meant change. That's what'd been happening for months now, if not years, and your reality was on the cusp of being turned on its head.

Yes, things changed.

And yet some things never did.

West of the city, there was a big lake; you found yourself there when you were supposed to be watching Snow's execution. A certain part of you was disappointed that you wouldn't get to watch him die; it was all you wanted ever since you got to 13, your sole motivation for staying alive.

But the other part of you was relieved. He would die, yes, but he wouldn't see you again before he did. He wouldn't get another chance to exercise his power over you ever again. So instead of being there, you were here, watching the water.

It reminded you of home. Back in your days at the Capitol, you didn't get do much sight-seeing of the city. You'd be brought in for a day or two, really only for the nights, and then you'd be sent back by morning. But once you met Finnick, he started walking around with you, and some nights you'd end up here.

You'd stare at the lake together in silence. Back then, the water was as close to freedom as you'd ever get. You supposed that was one of the things that did change.

You were free now.

What does that mean?

You pondered over that question for a while. For so long, you dreamed of even just tasting freedom; the thought was unattainable for so long, but now it was in your hands and you didn't know what you'd do.

The war was over.

But it wasn't.

The fight was over for you, but that didn't mean it was over for anyone else. Homes were destroyed. People were dead, and even more people were left here just to grieve. The nation was broken.

What did that make you if you just went home and left things like this? Maybe you'd done enough. Maybe you should just go home and retire the crown, finally get the rest you'd been longing for. But you didn't want that.

Who are you, Y/N?

Maybe you could be more than Panem's Princess.

"Y/N."

You were startled by the call of your name, spinning around. When you were met with eyes that matched the water behind you, you were calmed down.

"Finnick." A smile graced his face, eliciting one from you like it was contagious. "Hi."

"Hi." So many words to say, and yet that was the only one that either of you said.

He walked up to you, turning his gaze to the lake, and just like old times, you did the same. Just like old times, the two of you stared out at the water without saying a thing. Just like old times, for a little while, you were just Y/N, and he was just Finnick.

And just like old times, all of that came to an end eventually.

"You weren't at the execution," he said at one point.

"No," you replied. "I wasn't."

"But you already know what happened." It was set up like a question, but it wasn't.

You turned to see him already looking at you. His eyes weren't angry; they were just curious. You quirked one side of your lips upward. "I had a feeling." Judging by his statement, your feeling was correct. Your lips quickly drooped downward. "Is—"

He nodded before you could finish. "Katniss is alright." A breath of relief left you. "Paylor's gonna pardon her eventually. She'll probably be taking over." That confirmed it.

Coin was dead. And Snow was, too.

When you got your bearings, you shrugged. "I'd vote for her." You might've said it just to bring some humour to the conversation, but it wasn't a joke. You had no doubts that Commander Paylor would lead the nation with courage.

Finnick chuckled, agreeing, but as soon as he stopped, the light disappeared, reminding you of the weight of the conversation you were about to have. You didn't think you'd even be alive to have it, but you were, and now there was no avoiding it.

He must've seen the shift in your demeanour. "Y/N—"

"I love you," you breathed, cutting him off. If you were gonna have this talk, then that was the way you needed to start it. "I love you, and I have loved you for years. I'm so happy that I get to say it out loud now, because I never thought I'd get to, but Finnick, I—" the quivering of your lips made you stop. Realization dawned on his face, and that made tears come to your eyes. "I don't think love is enough."

He stepped closer to you, grabbing your hands. You let him. "Y/N—"

A tear raced down your cheek. "I don't know who I am when I'm not pretending. I lost myself trying to love you," you confessed, more tears falling down your face, but in the blur, you could see tears in his eyes, too. "I need to find myself again. I'm not— I'm not in the right headspace for a relationship right now, and it wouldn't be fair to you to jump right into one like everything's okay." Your voice shook. "It wouldn't be fair to either of us."

You were just about to pull your hands away when he squeezed them tighter. "No, I can— I can wait."

Your chest tightened as you held back a sob. He was so frantically trying to hold onto you when he shouldn't have been. You shook your head. "No, you don't understand. I need to stay here— I need time—"

"I can give you time!" he exclaimed, his voice cracking, simultaneously cracking your heart. "I can stay here— I can wait. Y/N, I will wait forever for you if you need me to."

This time, the sob did leave you, and there was nothing you could do stop it. "You shouldn't have to! You should just go be happy—"

"I can't be happy without you," he argued, stepping even closer to you like his every action was begging you to see his perspective.

At his interruption, more sobs fell from your lips, and he promptly pulled you into his chest. Instinctually, your arms wrapped around his torso, and his hands went to your head, caressing your hair as you cried.

You cried, and cried, and cried, and he held you all through it, letting you soak his shirt with your tears. He held onto you tightly, and not just physically, either.

Finnick Odair would never let you go.

Never again.

Somewhere in the haze of it all, you calmed down. You don't remember when you did or what happened after that, but eventually, your eyes were fluttering open to a white ceiling. Your hands grasped at your surroundings, feeling linen scrunch beneath your fingertips.

You glanced to the side where a big window was, light shining in from the moon. You furrowed your brows. How long were you out—and where were you?

Slowly, you stood up, soreness hitting your body immediately. You held back a hiss. Sleep must've given the bruises time to marinate; you decided to ignore it.

You walked through what was clearly a bedroom and opened the door. It opened into a hallway; noise was coming from the left, so that's where you went.

You didn't know what exactly you were expecting when you reached the end of the hall, but it certainly wasn't Finnick in front of a stove, frying something out of view.

"Finnick?"

He turned around, eyes widening. "Oh, hey— let me just—" your brows raised as he turned back to the stove, picking up the pan and dropping its contents onto two plates on the counter. Eggs. You blinked, and memories flashed underneath your eyelids of scenes just like this one.

You didn't think you'd ever see him cooking again.

When you opened your eyes, he was back to facing you, a sheepish smile on his face that looked just a touch out of place. "Sorry, I was cooking us some food." He gestured behind him then added, "Since you can't."

You scoffed, almost like you hadn't just been bawling your eyes out, almost like you were back at home and everything was still fine. "Okay, first of all, screw you—" he let out a chuckle, "second of all, thank you. And third of all, where the hell are we right now?" Your eyes scanned the area; this wasn't a hotel room. It was an apartment. "Last I remember, we were at the lake."

"This used to be Cressida's old place," he explained. "Said we could crash here as long as we wanted. She doesn't really wanna be here either way."

"Oh." We. We could crash here, he said. You were brought back to reality. "Finnick—"

"Let's eat," he cut you off, an easygoing smile on his face. Easygoing, but not easy. You could see the nerves churning behind his expression, so with a sigh, you nodded, letting him lead you to the dinner table and pull out your chair.

You told yourself you did it for him. But really, you wanted to prolong this for a little while longer, too.

He put your plate and cutlery in front of you. You wondered how he managed to procure eggs that weren't expired, but you didn't ask him aloud. You just picked up your fork and started eating.

Whether it was your hunger or your desire to hold onto this, you stayed silent as you ate. You even caught Finnick eating slower than usual; he wanted to hold onto this, too. He was determined to do so.

You and Finnick did what you did best: you pretended. You pretended that you didn't just lose it and cry yourself to the point of passing out. You pretended that you didn't have to talk after this. You pretended that you were still living in the life you had before the Quell, eating dinner every night just like this. And in remembering those dinners, you pretended that you weren't pretending then, too.

But you couldn't pretend forever.

You finished your food first and waited for Finnick to finish his. He took his time, and you let him. You let him twiddle with his fork when he was done, and then you let him take your plates and wash them afterwards. And once they were on the drying rack and he had no more excuses, you stood up from your chair with reality ready to spill from your lips.

"Finnick—"

He took no more than second to get to you. "Please, just— hold on."

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. "We can't avoid this forever."

"I know." Despite the shake in his voice, there was undeniable resolution in it. "And if... if what you said is really what you want, I'll give it to you." Out of sheer surprise, your eyes opened. The face you loved so much looked pained, but he still gave you a smile. This time, you could tell it wasn't real; it was purely for your sake. "There are countless things I need to apologize to you for, and I'd spend the rest of my life making it all up to you if you let me, but I'd do anything for you. So if what you want is for me to walk out that door right now, I'll do it." He swallowed, like he was scared out of his mind. "I just want to ask you one thing first."

The rational side of your mind screamed at you not to entertain it, to say no and get him to leave while you could both still bear it. He was willing to give you an out—that's what you wanted.

Was that what you wanted?

No, what you wanted was to feel better, and sometimes, Finnick did that, but other times, he did the exact opposite. Most times, the rational you corrected. Most times, he made you feel worse. But the happiness he gave you in those few times overrode everything else.

The other version of you, the one that remembered the good just as equally as the bad, nodded and gave him the greenlight.

He enveloped your hands in his, and the warmth made you realize just how cold you were. "Dance with me," he pleaded. "Dance with me and then decide."

No. Don't do it—

Transfixed by the way he was staring at you, you found yourself agreeing and ignoring your inner voice. "One dance," you told him.

The smile on his face became a grin. Real. This time, it was real. "That's all I'll ask," he promised. You took his word for it.

One last dance.

He led you to the open area between the kitchen and the living room, keeping your hands in his hold and pulling you closer. You rested your head on his, listening to his heart rattle against his ribcage. God, you missed that sound.

You missed this.

Finnick swayed you slowly to the music, nothing external or tangible, but the music you were dancing to was more real than any song you'd ever heard.

You realized now that the rational you was right. Finnick set his trap, and you lied in it. Because now that you remembered what this felt like, how could you willingly give it up? How could you ever leave?

The song might've been filled with heightening moments, and there might've been times when you just wanted to throw the damn record player into the wall, but it was your song.

And this was your dance.

Minutes passed before you pulled away. Finnick's hands immediately tightened on yours, and you squeezed them right back. You were pulling away, but the song wasn't over.

It wouldn't be over for a long time.

You warned him, "It's gonna be a lot of work, Finnick."

"I'm okay with that."

"We had a life back home— you had a life. I wouldn't be blaming you if you wanted to go back to it."

He was shaking his head before you were even done speaking, eyes earnestly poring into yours. "I'll build any life so long as it's with you."

You searched his eyes for any sign of doubt or lying but found none. When you were sure that you believed what he was saying, that he believed what he was saying, you released the smile you were holding back.

"Okay."

His eyes widened. "Okay?"

An involuntary giggle left you. "Yeah. Okay—" without warning, he picked you up and was twirling you around, making you squeal. "Finnick!"

Your laughs resounded throughout the apartment, and when he put you down, it was just to engulf you in his arms again. You wanted to kiss him, and he wanted to kiss you, but you'd have to work your way back up to that.

And eventually, you would.

No, your song wasn't over.

It was just restarting.

In district 12, Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark stood inside their home. They started to live together after some time had passed, and while they weren't a couple at that moment, they were still together. That was more than enough for the both of them.

Katniss chopped up vegetables for the dinner they'd be having later with Haymitch while Peeta read her a letter, addressed to them both. They didn't get mail often, not in 12, so they didn't know entirely what was happening with everyone else, but this letter informed them of all that they'd missed.

You'll be happy to hear that Katniss' mother has been training new medical units in the Capitol. Thanks to her, we'll be able to heal many more people at a much faster rate.

Gale has been promoted to a captain in district 2 to help keep order and security. He's doing well there.

Johanna has gone back to district 7 where she is taking the healing process one day at a time. She'll take as much time as she needs.

Annie and Julian are back in 4, along with Mags. They spend every day loving their son the way we all should've been loved, and it's a beautiful sight to see.

I am in the Capitol. I run a centre for children all over Panem who have lost their parents. One of the children has been staying with me personally for a while; she reminds me of you, Katniss. I'm thinking of adopting her.

Finnick has been here with me. We're happy together. One day, not any time soon, but some day, I'm gonna marry him, and the two of you better be there for the wedding.

We've all suffered so much. But we owe it to the memories of everyone we've lost to do our best with these lives.

I hope you're both finding some peace.

As Peeta read the last lines, Katniss smiled for the first time in a long time.

Sincerely,

Y/N

Taglist: @avoxrising @mxacegrey @littleshadow17 @lovelyteenagebeard @nasyanastya @catastrxblues @zodiyack @zulpix-blog @mushroomelephant @muggies @lantsovheiress @hobiebrowns-wife @notplutos @faeriepigeons @hnslchw @unholyhuntress @aclmagic @gloryekaterina @ayme301 @lem0ns77 @kisskittenn @onlyangel-444 @moonagedaydream505 @spderm4nnnn @satellitespeirs @glitzcute @iammirrorball @corpsebasil @forever-sleepy-sloth @omwtkydttfym @divinelovers @maggiecc @i-am-a-simp1 @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @nelliereadsstuff @how2besalty @dreaminglandsworld @eilaharmonia @catvader101 @lexa138 @h0neylemon @dakotali @hermionelove @theseerbetweenus @whosscruffylooking @yourdailymemedelivery @emma-andrea1 @s1lngwns @meenyminymoes-blog @roxi-reid @rattertatter @sunnybunnyy2 @just-levyy @amaranth-writing @jennaaaaaaaaaaaa @joshhutchersonisdaddy @my-name-is-baby @hehehe13356 @quazsz @chloecharms23 @darlingsoulbeautifulthoughts @thehairington86 @imaegonstargaryenswife0 @ment1tavoid @hereliesme @tayrae515 @mottergirl99 @blackdxggr @giverosespls @erindiggory @feyretopia @bibliosaurus @sleila @soursonnets @blackoutdays13 @lovelyteenagebeard @nj01 @0bsessedwithfictionalcharacters @marimba375 @willow-g-1 @blahablah2 @inatimate-icarus @shoebillcuicui @scoliobean @awritingtree @h-------n @yoonki-bored @miserablebl00d @iloubr @fairytales007 @beannnnnnnn @dominicfikexoxo @aclmagic @helaenaluvr @ravenmedows @bigdolldoeeyesgirl to all taglist members, tell me if you want to be added to my finnick taglist overall! thank you for reading my fic, and thank you for enjoying it enough to even ask to be on the taglist.

additional a/n: see what i did there at the end—our song and DANCE ;) you guys, this is it. the song is over (for us at least). i'm in a mix of like pride and sadness. this has quite literally taken a year to finish. it's one of my fav things i've written to date, and at one point, it was the only thing i was writing. to those of you that have stuck around to the end, thank you. i really hope u enjoyed the series and its ending! i'm thinking of writing little blurbs for this and whatnot if ur interested, all revolving around their journey. eventually, i'll post a list of canons ab y/n and where i think she ends up. once again, thank you all so much for your support. reading your comments has never failed to make me smile. i love you!! have a great day.

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astarioffsimpmain · 1 month ago

Text

Share With Me

Pairing: Gale x F!OC (Lyra)

Word Count: 1.6k

Author's Note: I took @senualothbrok 's advice and wrote some Gale on my birthday, and this fic was born! So, this is my birthday fic (technically for yesterday), but also, kind of an announcement fic!

Lyra is a new OC for me, and she is part of a much bigger project I have been working on in semi-secret for a little while now. I am writing a reverse-isekai chapter fic with Gale x Lyra! My story takes a lot of inspiration from my friend Senua's piece, "The Difference," but I'm getting to tell my own story, which I have never done so intimately in published work before. I'm excited and scared and I hope you all will take this journey with me. ❤️ This piece is in the same universe as that project, but is a separate one-shot. Now, on to the fic!

You stretched, allowing blood flow to your legs as you turned over. Quietly, you gazed out the open window next to your bed, closing your eyes when you felt the cool breeze blow in against your face. “It's not so bad,” you muttered under your breath as you watched the multicolored leaves flutter and spin in their journey from the trees to the ground.

It wasn't as though you were much of a social butterfly to begin with. But, not being physically capable of even sitting in your living room on your birthday because of the pain left a sour taste in your mouth. Even so, you did your best to brush all of that aside and enjoy the autumn air, and before long, you were drifting back into a comfortable slumber.

Your peace did not last long, however. A knock on your door startled you, as Leda wasn't home, until you remembered — Gale. Becoming used to the presence of this man, who, until a month prior was a mere story of fantasy to you, now living in your home with you, seemed impossible still.

“Gale?” You called out, the scratch of your voice betraying how close to sleep you had been.

“Guilty,” His sheepish voice answered from the other side of the door, and you smiled.

“Come in.”

The doorknob turned, and Gale's handsome face peeked through the crack. “Good morning,” he said gently, and your heart leapt in your chest. ‘If the sun ever burned out, that smile could save us all,’ you thought wistfully as he pushed the door all the way open and came inside. You propped up on your elbow and smiled at him, nearly missing the tray he pushed into the room with him — nearly.

“Gale,” you gasped, your eyes tearing away from him at last in order to take in the spread before you. “What is all of this?”

“Uhm…well, heh.” His hand traveled to the back of his neck and he chuckled. “I couldn't possibly allow you to celebrate your birthday in bed, in pain; alone, without a single breath of fanfare. You deserve a considerable amount more than that. So!” He clapped his hands together suddenly. “We have eggs, toast with apple butter spread, sausage, some fruits, and a pumpkin flavored coffee - iced, of course. I also have a menu for lunch and dinner, if you'd like.”

Your heart swelled in your chest and the sight of Gale before you blurred as tears clouded your vision. He continued.

“I brought your… what did you call it? Computer? In here with me, so that we might watch one of those plays you enjoy.” He paused, seemingly returning to himself, and withdrew ever so slightly. “Of course, none of this is required by any means! All merely suggestions. If you'd rather be left in peace and quiet, I will leave this here and be-”

“Gale,” you interjected, but it's as though he didn't hear you at all.

“I would be happy to leave this here or take it away-”

“Gale-”

“The last thing I would wish is for you to feel pressured in any way-”

“Gale!”

He fell silent immediately, and you couldn't help but feel guilty.

"Come here,” you choked out and reached for him. There was no hesitation. His hands encompassed yours and you nearly sighed aloud in relief. The pain he eased was not in your body, but within your soul. You had been dancing around these feelings you held for a man from worlds away, desperate to keep yourself safe from rejection's cold sting, but when he was here; when he was by your side, your hands safe in his, your fears fell silent. They didn't matter. For even if he rejected you today and disappeared tomorrow, you will have known him; you will have touched him, and you will have loved him with every aching beat of your battered heart.

You smiled at him, your eyes misted with tears, and took in the worry etched into his beautiful features. ‘Did I do too much? Does she not like it? Have I upset her?’ In that moment, he was as easy to read as a book cover and you squeezed his hand in assurance.

"Thank you, Gale," you murmured, and a smile crept across his pink lips, but his eyes were still uncertain. You couldn't bear to let him think that he had done anything but send your heart soaring in your chest, so you took a deep breath and made a brave decision.

Leaning up, you took one of your hands out of his and brushed your fingertips gently upwards through the coarse hairs of his beard, and his lips parted in surprise as your palm came to rest on his cheek. Simultaneously, you pulled yourself up and Gale down, your lips grazing his beard before finding the hollow of his cheek and pressing a tender kiss there.

"This means so much to me. You mean so much to me. I haven't known how to tell you, but…" you whispered in his ear and felt him shudder. You pulled away to ask him what was wrong, but your words were swallowed before their inception by his lips on yours, hot and insistent as his fingers came up to cradle the back of your head, and his digits curled into the hair at the base of your neck to keep you locked in place.

The shocked yelp leaving you melted into a throaty moan as his taste consumed you. You were aflame. His tongue sought entrance into your mouth and you whimpered, allowing him in with no hesitation.

He pulled away suddenly, his chest heaving as he rested his forehead against your own. “Is this-?”

“Yes,” you gasped. “Gale, fuck- yes.” And your breath was stolen once more.

"Gods, Lyra," he groaned against your lips. "You cannot possibly fathom how delectable you taste."

“I- mmf!” Your words were once again lost on your tongue as his delved deeper, exploring you with as much fervor as he did his favorite tomes. He stroked the length of his tongue against yours and a soft, breathy sound emanated from the back of his throat. You came apart in his arms, pulling him closer than you thought possible in this awkward position, and grasped onto his shoulders like the lifeline they were.

A month of hesitation, fear, and uncertainty were swept away in the crashing tide of Gale’s teeth colliding with yours as he used the grip he had on your hair to gently, but firmly, tilt your head to the side, giving him unparalleled access to your depths. You felt fingertips glide up the curve of your neck and you shuddered violently, a whimper ripping from your throat and falling onto his tongue like a prayer. The stiff hairs of his beard scratched the sensitive skin around your mouth as you moved in tandem with him, your mind barely remaining tethered to your body.

Your hands wandered, exploring the dips and planes of Gale’s body as he leaned further over you, conscious of your pain even in the haze of passion. You learned him by touch alone, pressing your fingertips into the muscles and grasping at soft rolls and curves. He felt so foreign and yet so familiar; he felt like coming home.

When you broke apart, it felt like eons had passed. Blue eyes connected with brown ones and you paused there, drinking in the feeling of closeness you had craved for so long. He was searching you; you felt it. “Stay with me,” you whispered, and watched his Adam's apple bounce with the force of his gulp.

“Is that what you want?” He whispered in response.

“Don't you?”

“By all the gods, I want it more than anything. But that's not what I'm asking.”

You canvassed his beautiful face, reveling in how close each of your favorite features were to you now. You could reach up and trace each crease, line, and scar; run your fingernail along each pore, pocket, and imperfection that made Gale who he was. “I want it too. I want you here with me. Please.”

He closed his eyes and a smile pulled up at the creases of his mouth, a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sigh falling from his lips as his warm hands fell to each of your cheeks. “Then you'll need to scoot over. I'm quite a bit larger than the space between us now.”

“Oh Gale, I'm certain you are,” you tittered and he blushed furiously, a hand over his eyes.

“Gods, you will be the end of me.”

“I'm not so sure, you might get me first.”

His hand fell and he looked at you pointedly. “If you continue to tease me, then perhaps I shall.”

Warmth flooded your entire body and you moved back immediately, allowing him room in the bed beside you. His laugh pulled your mind from the heat pooling in your belly and you smiled up at him as he removed his shoes and laid down on his back beside you. His arm opened to you and you were there in seconds, curling under it and pressing close to his side.

“Do you wish to eat? Your breakfast has, more than likely, gotten rather tepid by now.”

“Of course! We can't waste all of your hard work!”

“We?” He questioned you, his eyebrow raising.

“Mmm,” you nodded, reaching across him to grab a strawberry and press it gently to his lips. “I can't eat all of this by myself.”

Gale grinned around the strawberry and opened his mouth to you, taking a slow bite of the juicy fruit, his eyes never leaving yours. You felt his hand come to rest on your lower back and pull you closer to him.

“Come,” he murmured after swallowing, and took the strawberry from you, holding it to your lips now. “Let's share.”

fin

Tagging, Darlings: @micropoe10 @knightofmight01 @just-a-refrigerator @fanon-and-canon @senualothbrok @charlenestrawart

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale x tav #gale x reader #gale x oc #gale x lyra #gale x f!tav #gale x female tav #gale x f!reader #gale x female reader #birthday fic

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starboybutler · 10 months ago

Text

don't count on it

summary: buck can't sleep. bucky helps him out.

word count: 2675

warnings: period typical homophobia and homophobic attitudes, handjobs, brief objectification of women, brief talks of war, guys being dudes

notes: i began writing this before i watched mota yesterday so forgive me if anything seems out of character. this came to me in a dream at three am and i've been thinking about it since. this is also inspired by @precious-little-scoundrel so thank you for your lovely blog marina. i hope everyone enjoys!

his entire body radiated with a dull ache deep in his joints. as soon as his back hit the bed, his eyes drooped as if he’d fall asleep right then and there. and yet, he laid there, staring at the dull gray ceiling.

he always did this. he yearned to sleep, but as soon as the time to lay down came, he couldn't fall into a sound slumber. too many thoughts racing in his head, too much aching in his body– too much noise all around him. the hum of the rickety air conditioning, the faint mutters and laughs of his bunkmates as they brushed their teeth and got dressed for bed, his own breathing reverberating in his ears. it all was so mundane, but too overwhelming.

he shut his eyes, hoping sleep would just come to him. he tried to ignore it all– the sounds, the thoughts…but nothing. he was still awake.

the bed dipped next to him, and he didn’t even have to open his eyes to see who it was.

“finally outta the shower?” buck asked, hands tucked behind his head as he waited for a response. “you take forever in there. you're like a woman.”

“yeah yeah,” bucky dismissed, shoving buck playfully as he set his belongings down. “and you didn’t shower long at all. dunno how ya got anything clean in that time.”

“i’m very clean.” gale huffed, cracking one eye open. “i just don’t like showering with other people. i like my alone time.”

“uh huh. you just wanna be able to rub one out in there.”

gale sat up and shoved him, laughing in surprise at his friend's brazen words. it was always like this. bucky, being brazen and outgoing, all while buck watched from the sidelines. he liked it that way. he always felt a weird joy when bucky would tell random stories of reckless things he did in the past, or when he insisted on singing after a few drinks at the bar. he’d always say that he was a prude when he resisted his drunken tugging of his arm, trying to urge him on stage with him. buck never took it personally though– mainly because bucky was right. compared to most of the men he’d been around he was prude. he didn’t gamble, drink– hell, he didn't even have one night stands. many of the guys got drunk and went home with the first broad they saw, but buck didn’t feel anything towards the women who would brazenly grip at his arms and called him a stud. sure, he’s made out with a few of them– and almost made a mess of his uniform– but he never took them back to base. he didn't want to lose his purity like that. sure, he’d done plenty of heavy petting and dry humping, but he’s never went all the way with a girl before. it just didn't happen.

he got teased about it, sure, but he stuck by his guns. he didn't see the big deal in rushing to stick your cock into some random woman and then brag about it the next day. it all seemed very shallow to him. he was always told that sex is special– between two people with a strong, loving bond. and he held that close to his heart. he actually was planning to save himself for marriage– but when you're a hormonal teen…its a little hard to fight those primal feelings.

“oh please, i haven't done that since i got here.” buck said earnestly, laying back down and stretching out. “honestly, i haven't done that in almost a year.”

bucky laughed. “no way. i always joked about you bein’ a prude, y’know, but this is a little far.” he cracked. “where ya too busy? or are you actually that green?”

“i’m not green,” buck grumbled, sitting up and rubbing at his eyes. “i jus’-- goddamn, i dunno. i wanna save myself, y’know. i try not to do it too often.”

“good god man, you didn't even go for it before you were here? you’re crazy.” egan snorted. “now you’re stuck ‘round all these guys.”

buck just shrugged, laying back down and sighing heavily. “oh well. what can ya do?”

it was quiet, for a moment. buck could feel that bucky was was there, but he was silent– like he was contemplating. buck opened one eye and gazed at him, confused at the way his lips were twitching.

“you…you really aren’t gonna…indulge in any ladies out here?” bucky said, softly, like he was ashamed of asking. “you’re gonna lose it, man. it’s only been a week and i already feel all pent up.”

buck felt his face heat up slightly at the implication that his friend was horny. he bit his lip, dragging his eyes away from his black-haired friend as he let those words soak in. “really?”

“yeah. i– it’s been a while for me too, actually. i didn't really think about how it’d only be us guys out here. shoulda got something before i came out here.”

despite buck’s stance on remaining celibate until his marriage, he strangely understood the other man. even though he hardly engaged in such things, he felt the tension in every room he walked in. everyone seemed taut, like a bowstring– waiting to snap. whenever they’d spar, workout, or shower, the air would be thick enough to cut with a knife. it was an unspoken thing– but everyone felt it. no one wanted to talk about it, because…well, what would that make them? they don't allow fairies in the force, that’s for sure. something so scandalous couldn't even be thought about, unless you wanted a good beat down by every other troop in sight.

“i dunno. i think the last time i did it left me satisfied for a while,” he lied, not wanting to admit that he had the same fire simmering, albeit dimly, in his belly. he never felt like this, so what the hell was his deal?

“bullshit,” bucky swore. “no way your fist leaves you satisfied for years to come. you need a woman, buck. one that’ll rock your world.”

“you know i’m savin’ myself.” buck hummed. “besides, hookin’ up with some random woman doesn't sound appealing.”

“you’re wrong, man.” bucky sighed, laying down next to buck and resting his head on his hands. “it’s magical. raw. primal. makes you feel like a real man.” he grunted, inhaling deeply. “hooked up with this one chick– god, she was gorgeous. eager to go down on me– and she gripped ‘round me so damn tight i thought she cut off my circulation. kept bouncin’ on me and talking about how big i was. goddamn.”

buck’s cheeks flushed at the words leaving his friends mouth. the way he spoke about the woman like she was a pastime or a hobby and not a person was surprising. he could see it, though, clear in his minds eye– a young lady, moaning and panting, bouncing eagerly on bucky’s thick cock, bucky panting and calling her a good girl–

he paused. why was he thinking about bucky so much? and why did it make his face flush even more?

“issat right,” buck mumbled, trying to calm the butterflies in his stomach from his lewd imagination.

“uh huh. god– i dream about her all the damn time. what i’d give to be buried in her now.”

silence again. only this time, it felt more tense than the last. the vision that buck had– bucky’s cock, his breathless voice, his flushed face. it made him all hot, like no other girl had before. it scared him.

“you ever been with a girl? obviously not all the way– but at all?”

“of course i have.” buck said defensively. “i– i just…it was high school, maybe. real nice girl, real pretty. she came over to study, and we ended up making out. i was still kinda new to the whole….sex thing, so i told her no when she tried to go all the way. we did end up uh…. rubbin’ on each other though. felt nice.”

“and this was high school?” bucky asked. “and you haven’t been with a girl since?”

buck shook his head. bucky stared at him for a moment, something unreadable flashing in his eyes as he gazed at the blonde. “damn. no wonder you're so damn tense all the time.”

“i’m not tense.”

“you are. you’re always quiet– thinkin’. you never let loose. i bet if you got a handy you’d be as rowdy as the rest of us.”

“quit bein’ dirty.” buck tsked, smacking bucky’s chest lightly. “i don’t need a handy. i need some goddamn sleep.”

“i’m tellin’ ya man. you need to get laid.”

“i’ll smack ya if you say somethin’ pervy again.” buck promised, making bucky snicker softly.

it was quiet again. buck closed his eyes, but he felt as restless as earlier. moreso, even. he kept thinking about bucky’s last hookup, the way he described her, how tight she was. was she really tight? or was bucky just that big, like the girl said?

and there his mind went again. thinking about bucky. that wasn't normal. he needed to stop thinking about bucky and think about girls. like the girl he frotted with in his childhood bed- whatever her name was. the way she grabbed onto him, panted into his neck, shivering and shaking something awful as she came undone all over his slacks. he remembered being shocked at the gush, his cock still unbelievably hard down his thigh after two orgasms. he remembered how bad it hurt, being hard for so long. he wondered if being in a girl was better. he wondered if bucky’s cock stayed hard after he came inside that girl. no– stop. don’t think about the man right next to you. why did he keep–

“you’re breathin’ funny.” bucky observed.

“no i’m not.” buck argued, flustered at how his friend picked up on his heavier breathing. he prayed that he didn't look down and see his dick tenting in his sweats.

he must've. no. he did. his eyes trailed down the lean length of buck’s torso, landing on the large bulge under the fabric of his sweats.

“see what i mean?” bucky breathed, his voice lower in tone than normal. “you're so tense, buck,” he muttered, his hand moving from behind his head. “always so damn tense.”

buck swallowed hard as he felt bucky’s hand rest on his thigh, slowly inching upwards towards his aching cock. his breath stuttered, his face red-hot– but he didn't make a move to stop him. not at all.

bucky’s hand slid into his loose sweats, past the blonde curls, and gently grasped at his cock. buck inhaled sharply, his hand moving to grab bucky’s wrist in a moment of panic. bucky halted, looking up at buck tentatively.

oh, god.

“don't think,” bucky muttered, giving buck a soft squeeze. “jus’ lemme help, yeah? lemme get rid of that tension.”

buck let go slowly, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. bucky’s hand gave him a curious squeeze, making buck grunt and rock his hips up into his grasp. slowly, hesitantly, bucky started to move his hand up and down his throbbing shaft.

“oh, god,” buck swore, his face flushed dark red as he felt his stomach clenching with each milking tug of bucky’s hand. he felt himself, dripping with precum all over his friends hand like a girl. he hardly began touching him, and he was already….

“close,” buck warned, his voice breathy and embarrassed as he started to pant softly. “oh, jesus–”

“no,” bucky grunted, pulling his hand away abruptly, much to buck’s dismay. before the blonde could even complain, bucky was straddling him and staring holes into his pretty blue eyes. “wanna see you.”

buck swore his face was radiating light at this point, and bucky’s gaze wasn't helping one bit. it was so hot and intensely desirous that buck thought he was going to get eaten alive.

bucky grasped the blonde’s cock again, giving it small, rhythmic squeezes as he stared into buck’s eyes, taking in how they were welling up with tears– and how his flushed face was beading with sweat. it was so different, so absolutely wildy hot that buck, ever stoic, was falling apart below him.

buck had never had someone look at him so hotly before– not even that girl back then. it was making him nervous, but also hot and needy. the thought that his friend wanted him carnally set a fire in his stomach and his heart.

he began pumping him slowly, twisting his wrist and squeezing, all with an expertise that shocked him a little. he could still hear the buzzing of the ac and the quiet conversations of the other troops as his mouth fell open, head falling into the plush pillows behind him.

bucky’s breathing was growing heavier. he could feel the other man’s heat as he used his thumb to swipe at his leaking slit, his breath catching as buck gasped beneath him. the blonde swore he felt a certain hardness poking at his thigh, but he didn't care at all right now. he needed to cum. he needed bucky to make him cum.

“say my name.” bucky demanded, his face flushed as he began jerking buck’s cock faster. “need to hear ya say my name when you cum.”

“bucky–”

“nah. louder.” he demanded, his own breath speeding up and becoming ragged as he stroked buck faster. “scream it. yell it. make sure all our boys know.”

“fuck–” buck whimpered, his cool, stoic demeanor completely gone as he bucked his hips up into his friends fist, moaning like a cheap whore. “b-bucky!”

“that’s it. fuck– no one can make you feel like this–” he panted, speeding up his ministrations. “can they, buck? i’m the only one. don’t– ngh- ever let me catch ya with anyone else. i’ll kill ‘em.”

“bucky,” buck whimpered, his stomach clenching one final time as his orgasm washed over him, a fire like he hadn't experienced in forever. his cock shot thickly over the front of bucky’s shirt, making the other man groan and bite his lip as his friend came apart. the way bucky was straddling him, stroking him through his orgasm, the faint sounds of his friends voices through the thin wall– oh, fuck.

he dissolved into pathetic little tremors and whines as he came down, his cock bubbling weakly at the tip. bucky was panting hard, his face red and eyes hungry as he gazed at the blonde. suddenly, buck was sure that there was a hardness prodding at him.

silence.

“you–” buck panted, reaching out to grasp bucky’s erection, only to be stopped. “wha–”

“don’t worry about me.” he mumbled. “fuck, everyone’s gonna be here soon. jus’--” he stuttered, clambering off of buck awkwardly, tucking him back into his sweats. “get some sleep, buck.”

buck was too tired to try and chase after him as he scrambled away. his body felt heavy as he closed his eyes, finally succumbing to sleep.

when he awoke, he went straight to the breakfast hall. he felt like last night was some fever dream he had cooked up in his fucked up mind.

he sat at a table near the window, graciously taking the coffee he was given. only a few minutes later, the chair in front of him had been filled by his friend.

it was dead silent. then, bucky finally spoke, his voice calm and steadier than buck expected.

“sleep good last night?”

buck’s face flushed slightly, but he nodded, his eyes not leaving his plate.

“good.” bucky hummed, leaning back in his chair. “got a mission. you right and ready to fly?”

“you know it.”

“that’s my boy.” bucky smiled, and buck hated that he got butterflies in his stomach from it. “i’ll see ya in the air. don’t fall asleep in the seat, y’hear me?”

buck smiled, taking a sip from his bittersweet coffee. “don’t count on it.”

taglist: @mooodyblue @lauvmyself @kaiistheguy @slowsweetlove @lillypink

#austin!elvis x y/n #austin butler x you #austin butler x reader #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler smut #austin butler #callum turner #callum turner x reader #mota #masters of the air #mota fanfic #masters of the air fanfic

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tobecatherine · 8 months ago

Text

You are home

Part two to Nightmare Comfort.

Part One

Okay ya'll here it finally is, the long awaited part two to my Gale fanfic and as promised it is spicy! So only 18+ please! It ended up way longer than I planned but I hope you'll find it worth the read.

This is def romantic/sappy with very light kink.

TavxGale- First Person

Word Count: 3057

I hope ya'll enjoy!

Ever since you confided in Gale about your nightmares, he has been extra attentive and caring towards you. Every night, he would tell you sweet stories from his imagination or his favorite books, hoping to fill your mind with positive thoughts and banish your worries. He even offered to use magic to help, but you declined. With time and his loving care, you were confident that the nightmares would eventually fade away.

Your new nightly routine was a welcomed change. After dinner and a walk together, you two would snuggle into bed and listen to Gale's soft voice until you drifted off to sleep in his arms. Even though the nightmares still came, they were easier to push away with Gale by your side. Your heart was filled with love and gratitude for the man next to you.

These peaceful nights became the usual routine over time. When Gale returned home from teaching at the academy, he would enthusiastically share stories about his students while helping you prepare dinner. Then, you would eat together, clean up, and set out for your evening stroll as a couple.

The stars shone just as brilliantly tonight as they did on the evening Gale professed his love for you. You couldn't help but wonder if he had cast another enchantment, as the stars weren't always visible above the buildings in town. But when you looked at Gale, you realized that the night sky was its own magic that night.

"I love you," you whisper tenderly, intertwining your fingers with Gale's as your heart flutters. Even after all this time, his touch still had the power to make your heart skip a beat.

"I love you too, my dear," he replies with a smile. "I wouldn't be here without you. I am forever grateful for the days I get to spend by your side. You...changed me."

"I didn't change you. I simply showed you that you are someone worth loving," you say, turning to face him and gazing into his eyes.

As your eyes meet, a soft smile spreads across your face before you lean in to kiss his velvety lips. You can feel him grinning against your own before he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

As his lips softly brushed against yours, he whispered, “You were right, I never felt like I was enough. But you helped change that.”

You leaned your foreheads together, standing there in each other's embrace for a moment. His arms securely around your shoulders and yours wrapped tightly around his neck. Taking a deep breath, you let yourself share this intimate space with him, feeling your hearts beating as one as you kissed him again. The kiss deepened as Gale's tongue gently grazed your bottom lip, and you eagerly parted them for him. You wished you could stay locked in this moment forever, kissing him until the end of time.

But reality came crashing in as you became aware of Gale's arousal pressing against your stomach. As tempting as it was to take him between two buildings and have your way with him, that idea was quickly dismissed when a drunk man stumbled out of a nearby building.

"Maybe we should head back earlier tonight," you murmur with a playful lilt in your voice.

Your lips were still tingling from his kisses, and his flavor lingered on your tongue. Without any words exchanged, you suddenly find yourself being whisked through space and time, ending up in the front room of your home alongside him.

"Do you have a magical teleportation device hidden here?" You quirk an eyebrow at him.

"You never know when you might need a quick getaway," Gale responds with a mischievous grin.

Gale pulled you close, his lips crashing into yours with an intensity that made your heart race. As your tongues danced and hands roamed, Gale's lips began to trail down your neck. His strong hands moved from your lower back to your hips, then to the back of your thighs as he effortlessly lifted you in his arms. You couldn't help but let out breathy moans as he kissed and nipped at your skin, one hand tangled in his hair and the other holding onto him tightly. Being a bit of a tease, you started grinding against him, causing him to almost lose his balance and lean against a nearby wall. You couldn't help but grin mischievously as you did it again, enjoying the way Gale growled against your skin in response.

The sounds Gale made sent shivers down your spine, igniting a heat that spread to your already quivering core. No one in your life had ever set you on fire the way Gale did. You had past lovers, sure, but Gale was different - Gale was your forever. With a gentle tug of his hair, he pulled back as requested, his dark eyes locked onto yours. In them, you could see the burning desire he had for you, causing a whimper to escape your lips. As your eyes remained locked with his, you bite your bottom lip and let him see all the love, passion, and care you had for him in that moment.

"Please, make love to me," you whisper, nearly begging as both of you pant in anticipation.

"My pleasure," Gale responds with a devilish look before crashing his lips against yours once more.

Gale stepped away from the wall and closed the short distance to your room. He pressed you against the nearest wall, his hips moving slowly against yours. You tried to respond in kind, but he held you firmly, trapping you against the wall. He pulled back slightly to look at you.

"I'm going to show you how much you mean to me, and worship you like you deserve," he said, grinding his hips in circular motions. The heat in his voice sent shivers down your spine.

It was clear that Gale was taking charge tonight, and you eagerly followed his lead as he set you down on your feet, your knees wobbling. He caught you in his arms with a chuckle.

"Already weak in the knees?" he teased before kissing you again.

Together, you and Gale stripped each other of clothing in a frenzy of kisses and caresses. Soon, you were both naked, with Gale hovering over you, his body pressed against yours. You could feel his arousal against your thigh as your hand trailed down to stroke him.

The two of you were lost in a haze of kisses and gentle touches, reveling in the sensations of each other's bodies. As your hand moved up and down Gale's length, his moans echoed in your ears, sending shivers down your spine. With eager fingers, you guided him towards your wet center, but Gale stopped you suddenly. Confused, you looked up at him for an explanation.

“Let’s take our time tonight,” he murmurs against your lips, his hand gripping yours as you move together slowly. “Do you trust me?”

“I trust you with everything,” you reply, breathless as you continue to pleasure him.

Gale suddenly sits up, taking your hands and tenderly kissing each palm before conjuring a rope to tie your wrists to the bedposts. You're surprised by this unexpected turn of events, but Gale simply kisses the tip of your nose and reassures you that tonight is all about you.

With a nod, you relax and let him take control. It's difficult not being able to touch him, run your fingers through his hair or scratch down his back, but tonight is different. Gale has always been an attentive lover, but tonight he takes it to another level. The sensation of goosebumps rising on your skin makes you tingle all over, and you can't wait to see what else he has in store for you.

Gale made sure you were comfortable before sitting up to face you. Watching him gaze at your naked form, you couldn't help but feel a rush of embarrassment and arousal. Though you had seen each other naked many times before, the way his eyes roamed over your body now made you feel like he was trying to etch every inch of you into his memory.

"You are more beautiful than any rare gem or star in the sky. I am beyond lucky to see you as I do," he said, causing you to whimper and turn away slightly, feeling exposed and vulnerable. But Gale's hands began to explore your body, drawing your attention back to him as he hovered above you. "Please don't turn away, my love. To have the vision of your bare form imprinted on my mind is a priceless treasure."

You leaned up to kiss him passionately, feeling the heat from earlier intensify in your core. You never thought words could make you climax, but it felt like they just might have. The thought of being completely under his control sent shivers down your spine, and the heat in your body seemed to pool in your stomach. You bite down on his lip as you finally break away, your neck aching slightly from the angle.

With a mischievous grin, Gale slowly explored your body with his hands and lips. His movements were deliberate, as if he was studying your reactions. You could tell that he paid close attention to your moans, giving you exactly what you wanted and avoiding anything that didn't bring pleasure. Was this what he meant when he said he would worship you? If it was, you were more than happy to accept it.

Every touch from Gale felt electrifying, heating up your entire body by the time he settled between your thighs. His soft lips traced kisses along your inner thigh, occasionally nipping at the supple skin.

"You're already so wet for me," he chuckled before licking a slow line up your folds.

You couldn't help but squirm under Gale's skilled tongue, wanting to feel him closer. When you pressed your hips forward in silent request, he obliged, running his nails lightly along your thighs as his mouth worshiped every inch of your folds. He teased and kissed everywhere except where you desperately wanted him, making you whimper in frustration.

"Gale, please," you pleaded with hazy moans as his touches pushed you closer to the edge.

Gale's hands moved down to spread your lower lips apart with his thumbs, exposing your swollen clit to the cool air of the room. You shuddered as you panted for breath, feeling his tongue work magic on the sensitive bundle of nerves. The way his lips wrapped around the hood of your clit was indescribable, sending waves of pleasure through your body as you braced yourself against the restraints.

"More...please...I'm so close," you begged him without hesitation.

Without a word, Gale leaned in even closer and intensified his efforts. His tongue circled and flicked with increasing speed, driving you wild until you reached another peak of ecstasy. Just when you thought it couldn't get any better, Gale's fingers teased the opening of your core, skillfully brushing against every nerve ending and driving you to the brink of insanity. And when he finally pressed two fingers inside of you, hitting that perfect spot that made you see stars, you couldn't hold back any longer.

As your body tensed and trembled with pleasure, Gale continued to ravish you relentlessly, pushing you into another wave of ecstasy. But just as you were about to reach the ultimate climax, his mouth pulled away and spread your thighs open again. As he slid inside of you, completing the final piece of your union, you felt yourself falling into another blissful release.

You gasped as you felt his erection slowly breach your tight entrance, stretching and filling you with a pleasure that left you breathless. Filling you to the hilt Gale pressed his hips to yours, letting the end of your last climax clench around his cock. The sensation of him filling you as you came was a different kind of bliss in itself. Your hands once again straining against their binds, wanting so badly to touch him.

As he began to thrust, you could feel yourself clenching around him, drawn deeper into the abyss of pleasure. Your moans turned into cries as he hit the spots that made you go wild. The sensation of him inside you was overwhelming, and you could tell he was enjoying every second of it.

Gale's hand slid up your body, his fingers gently caressing your breast, and then tweaking your nipple just right, sending a shock of pleasure through you. The combination of the sensations was too much, and you knew that you were about to reach the peak of your orgasm once again.

Your body arched violently, your nails digging into the palms of your hands as you reached the peak of pleasure. With a satisfied grin on his face, Gale watched intently, knowing that he had fulfilled all your desires. As your legs trembled and your breaths grew shallow, you were acutely aware of the wetness between your thighs as Gale's arousal continued to throb inside of you.

“Gale… please, finish inside me,” You plead, not wanting to break the intimate connection between you.

Gale thrusts himself deeper inside of you, causing your eyes to roll back in ecstasy. Your legs instinctively wrap around his hips, holding him close as he emptied himself into you. Your tightness squeezes his cock as your lips meld together in a sloppy kiss. A contented sigh escapes your lips as you start to drift off once again. In this moment, lost in pure bliss, you feel nothing but love and adoration for the man who has brought you such immense pleasure.

As you lay there, basking in the afterglow of your passionate encounter, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the connection you shared with Gale. His touch, his voice, his presence—all of it enveloped you in a warmth that was both comforting and exhilarating.

You reached up and gently caressed his face, tracing the lines of his features with your fingertips. He leaned in and kissed your palm, his eyes never leaving your own. There was a depth to his gaze that you couldn't quite put your finger on, but it filled you with a sense of security and trust.

His voice was soft as he asked, "Are you alright? Did I hurt you?"

You smiled and shook your head, lifting your hand to cup his cheek. "No, Gale, you didn't hurt me. You always take care of me."

And I love you, too," he said, his voice filled with sincerity and warmth. In that intimate moment, the world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you cocooned in each other's embrace.

As you lay there wrapped in each other's arms, a sense of peace washed over you. It wasn't just about the physical connection you shared but the deep emotional bond that had formed between you and Gale. You knew that whatever challenges life threw your way, as long as you had each other, you could weather any storm.

Feeling a surge of gratitude, you pressed a gentle kiss against Gale's chest, feeling his heartbeat steady beneath your lips. In this quiet space of love and acceptance, you knew that your connection with Gale was something rare and precious.

Gently, Gale released your restraints, allowing your limbs to fall weakly to the side. You felt a wave of exhaustion wash over you but you knew that there would be time for rest later.

His voice was soft as he asked, "Are you alright? Did I hurt you?"

You smiled and shook your head, lifting your hand to cup his cheek. "No, Gale, you didn't hurt me. You always take care of me."

As your breathing steadied, Gale pulled out slowly, leaving a warm trail of himself inside you. He reached over and grabbed a soft, fluffy towel, gently dabbing at the evidence of their passion. You watched him, still breathless and glowing with afterglow, feeling a profound connection with him that went beyond mere sex.

He helped you sit up, wrapping his arms around you as you snuggled into his chest. His heartbeat steadied yours, and you knew in that moment that you had found something truly special with Gale. He was more than just a lover—he was a confidant, a protector, a friend.

You turned to him, your eyes brimming with emotion, and whispered, "I love you." The words hung in the air between you, heavy with significance and meaning.

Gale leaned down, kissing you softly on the lips, and then whispered back, "And I love you, too," he said, his voice filled with sincerity and warmth. In that intimate moment, the world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you cocooned in each other's embrace.

As the soft light of dawn filtered through the window, you closed your eyes, savoring the moment and committing it to memory. In Gale's arms, you found home place where love was infinite and time stood still.

After this night, you never had the nightmares again.

#fanfiction #bg3 gale #gale bg3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale bg3 x reader #gale bg3 smut #baldurs gate gale #gale x tav #smut #bg3

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dw-flagler · 4 months ago

Note

Great to see a bg3/worm combo fan like myself. Which party members do you think are the undersider’s favorites?

bit of a tough question for me. See, your problem is that you should have asked someone smart or perhaps literate. Long, boring, and almost completely incorrect Post below. Don't read this.

Let's say all the undersiders are playing the video game baldur's gate 3. Who's their favorite companion?

-Taylor's is likely Wyll, since he is pretty similar to her, with his highly self-sacrificing nature and focus on Doing Good. Everything wyll wants to do in-game or does in his backstory is pretty much what she would have done in his place. I think she wouldn't really dislike any of the companions except for Astarion, just because they're supposed to be likeable. She would be ambivalent about shadowheart. She would dislike minthara but she never realizes you can recruit her.

-Rachel would not play Baldur's Gate 3. Straight up, you couldn't make her. Even if you somehow did, she would quit before the prologue ended.

-Brian would like... Lae'zel? We know how much he loves women that beat the shit out of people. Lae'zel does in fact beat the shit out of people. I don't feel he would particularly like most of the party in bg3. He's normal. He's so normal guys. All the companions have quirks or something silly just be normal. Brian wouldn't really care a ton about the story, I don't think. He'd follow the greater plot beats of what's happening, but like he would not follow or care about Lenore's story, for instance. He would enjoy the turn based combat though, I think.

Lisa would probably like Jaheira the most? I'm mainly guessing here (see above). as a video game, she would likely only ever see it as a video game, and wouldn't really be able to look past its writing. Lisa would probably just see a mess of dialogue triggers and path outcomes, and never really see it as more than the sum of its parts. I would wonder what she does for fun after she gets her powers but i somehow doubt Lisa does things for fun anymore. She might enjoy doing exploits to do like a million damage, but I can't imagine her liking a video game much. Anyway she'd probably like some of jaheira's jokes.

Alec. I, um. I'm gonna be honest. I have no idea. I feel like he'd probably find Astarion's quips funny (though not super funny). I don't think he'd like karlach much, because I think he'd see that the game clearly writes her to be likeable and he would find that annoying, in a don't tell me what to do sort of way? He probably wouldn't care much about the story, and he wouldn't really care for the gameplay? He doesn't particularly strike me as a Turn Based Strategy fan. Alec probably plays the game for like 5 hours, gets bored, realizes he can't refund it, uninstalls it, and then plays something else.

Aisha. I am in a similar position with Aisha as I am with Alec. The characters I understand the least (and I don't understand the others very well to begin with). I think she'd romance Astarion but Ironically. I don't think she'd like him but she'd romance him because he's popular and then she would kick him in the nuts in a complex gambit for postmodern ironicism. As for the video game, she'd probably enjoy the combat in a "makes overpowered multiclass combos" sort of way.

Let's say all the undersiders are in the video game baldur's gate 3, as in they are tav. Who's their favorite companion then?

Taylor's opinions turn right around, probably. Shadowheart goes from a mildly annoying but helpful cleric to a dangerous follower of an evil god. Astarion becomes a shifty dangerous rogue (not that she ever likes him much). She immediately dislikes and distrusts wyll, and says a bunch of insane shit about his pact with a devil. probably compares it to a drug addiction at least once. Once he explains, if he explains, she'd probably come around to him, but it's a big if. Taylor's paranoid. She can't trust any of these people. Her party would probably end up being gale, wyll (because he's at least better than the others), and karlach, just because she can't/won't trust any of the others, not enough to watch her (non insect covered in this reality!) back.

Brian would dislike everyone in the party significantly more. Lae'zel would still be his favorite member, but he would very much disapprove of a lot of her decisions. Like guys, can't we do all this important stuff about vlaakith or shar or whatever after we stop the parasites from eating our brains? It's kind of important.

Lisa would probably have an aneurism. You basically have to talk every member of the party off a ledge at some point in the game. She would not like Gale because he does insinuate that the player is dumb a few times and she hates being called dumb. She takes one (1) look at karlach and her eyes start bleeding.

Rachel hates all these people, with the exception of Karlach, who is straightforward and--I don't want to say "simple" because that implies things about her intelligence and karlach isn't stupid. But karlach is simple! she's not lying about anything, she never hides her opinions, she's never coy. She tells em how she sees em, full stop. Rachel would appreciate that. She would probably begrudgingly respect Wyll because of how he's so consistently fucked over by a smug fast-talking asshole. On the other side, she'd hate Gale. Even though he's genuine pretty often, he's very much the smug type. She would tolerate him, though. She again begrudgingly tolerates Shadowheart. Lae'zel is straightforward but also calls you stupid and fights you several times. If Rachel romances any of the companions it's probably lae'zel. She kills Astarion. Note: by endgame she probably likes all the companions significantly more.

My gut feeling is that Alec wouldn't like most of the companions. He'd sympathize with Astarion if nothing else. Similar backstory squad. I feel like Astarion would secretly resent Alec for "having it easier" because alec is significantly younger than Astarion.

Aisha's opinion of Astarion would probably turn around if he was real to her. She would actually like him, though she definitely wouldn't date him.

How would the undersiders react to some of the major moral choices in the game? (provided that they were actually in the game and not playing it)

Taylor would do all the "good" choices, because for the most part there aren't hard moral choices in BG3 (that don't have some secret third "good" option). The main thing is that she'd probably encourage wyll to sign his soul away to save duke ravenguard. Similarly with Shadowheart and her parents. A little self sacrifice never hurt anyone (that taylor doesn't want to suffer). She becomes a mind flayer to beat the netherbrain. Duh.

Brian is an interesting case here. He would not care one lick about the plight of the tieflings or the grove, he would just want the parasite out by any means possible. Oddly, I think Brian would probably be the "evilest" potential replacement for tav. Like, he would want nothing more than to get the parasite out and then just leave. He skips almost all the side quests in acts 1 and 2 because he literally just wants to go home. He probably skips a lot of the ones in act 3. He's got a goal and he's sticking to it. Who gives a shit about the necromancy of thay? While he'd vastly prefer to just let the emperor do it, He might be forced into freeing orpheus just to appease lae'zel. In which case he's not turning into a mindflayer. He spent weeks (tendays i mean) specifically avoiding this, he's not gonna do it now.

Lisa would play both sides every time. Like. She'd start the raid on the druid grove but switch sides at the last minute. I do think she'd ultimately do the "good" choices (because there's not a lot of moral depth to BG3's plot) in the end, but she would be absolutely inscrutable literally 24/7. Betraying people just for sheer love of the game. (she gets a kick out of seemingly siding with gortash, and then destroying all the steel watchers). I cannot imagine her becoming a mindflayer. She probably would free orpheus and make him do it though. She would not appreciate the emperor taking the form of like her dead brother or something. If we say she's a wizard (see below), then I could see maybe a 50/50 shot on her becoming a god with the crown of karsus (is that even possible? I mean, is gale the only one that can do that or can a player-character also do it if they're a wizard? I didn't play a wizard because we already have gale).

Rachel is a little similar to Brian, maybe. She's not the kind to do stuff out of compassion for her fellow man. She might side with the druids in act 1, just because the goblins of act 1 abuse animals pretty regularly. I mean, worm rachel is only really compassionate for specifically dogs though, and worgs are kind of like wolves. I don't think she'd ever actively side with the goblins, though. They're dickheads. She would definitely kill that woman who abused the dogs at the mail carrier in rivington, though. Probably take all the dogs herself. Torch the building. She would not save orpheus, would just let the emperor take care of it, and would destroy the netherbrain. (she might save orpheus if she romances lae'zel. Though if she went to the creche she would get the whole party killed).

Canonically, in Worm, Alec found the person he believed to have the strongest moral compass and basically just said "yeah that sounds cool" to like her every decision. An autistic woman is speaking, listen and learn. He might try something similar here. Hey, Shadowheart. You seem like you know what morality is. You're in charge now. (much like canonical worm, he chose poorly (still better than taylor though))

I'm not sure what aisha would do. Game aisha would be easy. She'd just do whatever was the funniest option every time. Blow up the monastery, let the gondian hostages all trip and die, fuck and then kill minthara. But if it was real to her? She's hard to pin down, I think. She might just stick around for the ride, without any strong feelings one way or the other? I mean, she wouldn't become a mindflayer, but the other stuff? She'd probably do mostly good stuff, with the occasional exception, because, again, BG3 is pretty black-and-white. Do you do the good thing or the bad thing? etcetera.

And a final little bonus: what DND class best represents each Undersider? Just for a little hit of the lamest nerd shit anyone could ever do.

Taylor, I would probably say is a bladesinging wizard? I might also say necromancer. My reasoning is primarily that taylor is the most bookish of the undersiders, the most studious, and she's the most versatile. Wizard is the most versatile magic class in Dungeon Dragon. I said bladesinging wizard, because a big thing about taylor in any fight is that the taylor within the swarm is also dangerous. She uses her baton to great effect, cloaking herself within the swarm for surprise attacks. Bladesinging wizard is the only wizard subclass that even can use melee weapons. (it also helps that by all accounts wizards shouldn't do melee combat, they're supposed to be bad at it, but randomly a bladesinging wizard isn't, and that's taylor being The One Master Cape that actually fistfights people) Of course, this runs into a minor problem which is that a big thing about taylor's power is that it's offputting. Unsettling. she's extremely good at scaring people, to the point she often does it practically by accident. This might be why necromancer might be better, since necromancy is seen as disgusting or offputting. But then you lose the taylor within the swarm part. So i guess it's a matter of which you think is more important to her as a character. There's also swarmkeeper ranger, but ranger kind of sucks, and plus taylor barely ever uses her gun, to the point i don't think she even reloads a gun during the course of the entire book.

Lisa is a tough one. Nothing fits her well, but a lot of things fit her kind of well. Here's 2 options, each with advantages and disadvantages. (Lore bard is also a possibility, but I think it is a bad one)

Inquisitive Rogue. You may think Mastermind rogue, since she's a mastermind cape, but mastermind rogue focuses more on the lying than the detecting lies, so inquisitive. It fits pretty well mechanically, especially that inquisitive rogues can just immediately detect illusions or shapeshifters, but the thing that I don't like about it is that rogues primarily use dexterity, with intelligence being secondary, and charisma usually being a dump stat. Additionally, rogues focus heavily on combat with weapons, which is not lisa's Thing. She does have her gun, but she doesn't really use it that often, preferring her words instead.

Divination Wizard. For one thing, (most) wizards are terrible in melee combat and have low health, which is a better fit for lisa "i work best not fistfighting glory girl but end up doing it half the time anyway" wilbourn. Additionally, wizards have intelligence as their primary stat, which is better for lisa. The large variety of spells does allow Lisa a much less limited amount of perception, though the "sees the future" thing is not her power. Whatever. Look, it's not too far off. This is the best I have, okay?

Rachel is pretty simple. you might be tempted to say she's a beastmaster ranger, though I don't think it's a good fit. For one thing, rangers kind of suck. The beastmaster also has the problem of only having one beast to master, as opposed to rachel's many many beasts. Additionally, rachel does not usually fight people directly, usually using her dogs instead (since that's her power). I think a shepherd druid could be a better fit for her. It gives her the innate ability to basically speak with animals, druids tend not to really interact with or like people, and she can summon and empower many more creatures than a beastmaster's 1. Of course, this has problems of its own. Rachel lindt is not capable of turning into a bear in the web novel Worm. She also can't do that in Ward.

Brian is probably the easiest. shadow monk. He's a hand-to-hand fighter who loves doing crazy ass stunts in service of cold clocking 12 year olds, who also has abilities that work very well to aid him in stealth or surprise attacks. Within the lore, shadow monks also often work as mercenaries. It's Literally Him. Also as a little fun fact, Shadow monks have an ability that is literally exactly his echidna clone's power (teleporting through shadows). They are also immune to the effects of radiation*, which also is a thing Brian can do. This is the only slam dunk conversion for any of these little bastards, to be honest. He's a shadow monk. We're done here.

Alec is probably a great old one warlock, since that's the class focused the most on controlling others, with a greater focus on incapacitation as opposed to mind control. It's closer to his shaker-like power. (to my knowledge there is no spell that allows you to straight up control somebody forever in dungeons and dragons). You could make a case for enchantment wizard, but there's too many wizards here already. You can also link a warlock power thematically to his connection to his father, something that doesn't really care about him very much but he draws power from (even if he resents it). great old one warlocks also have resistance to psychic damage, and like that's one of his major characteristics, what with him being highly resistant to emotional master powers and all.

Aisha is hard. Nothing fits aisha. Her ability to make people forget about her existence is hard to replicate. The closest thing I know of is that enchantment wizards get an ability to make people forget they were charmed by said wizard's magic, but that's, like, it. I was hoping that somewhere there existed a subclass I didn't know about that was like all about making people forget stuff, but tough shit I guess. thief rogue(the best one for sneaking). fuck you, gary gygax.

Bonus:

Sabah could be a creation bard, since creation bards can animate objects and use them to like hit people and stuff. But this is much more limited than her power, and it's not quite the powerful summons that I was hoping for. That being said, i've lowered my standards significantly because nothing works ever.

Lily could be a fighter but none of the fighter subclasses let you make a random object invulnerable. It's a real problem. About as close as I can get is the arcane archer, which allows the fighter to imbue projectiles with a power, but not the "instantly kills anything and pierces any defense" power, for some reason. Strange. And none of this covers her other powers.

Extra bonus:

Amy is a divine soul sorcerer. She only ever uses healing spells (or sometimes buff spells) even though she's got a level six disintegrate just like sitting in the chamber. Mocking her.

#bg3 spoilers #worm spoilers #*kind of. it depends on how you'd rules lawyer it since radiation isn't technically a mechanic in dungeons and dragons because it's trash #sorry to whoever asked this cause it's been like 4 weeks at this point #in the dungeons and dragons world taylor used scorching ray on that toddler #wormposting #reddit ass post #anon ask

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