#survivors remorse

[artdivadej]

Survivor's Remorse (II)

Part Two

18+ | NSFW | PTSD

Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9

How could I?

Peeta didn’t look scared but that didn’t make this ok. He’s a guy, of course his body would react on instinct. I had no right. I immediately bolt from the bed before he can grab me with those powerful hands of his. Always trying to hold me together and I’d violated him.

“I’m so sorry”, I gasped fighting my tears of disgust.

“Sweetness, you did nothing wrong”, he called in that honey sweet baritone.

I must have looked as feral as I did when I was coming off of the trackerjacker venom during my post-torture rescue. He only ever used that tone with me when I was about to lose my shit.

“I just assaulted you Peeta!”

“No. You were sleeping you-”

“Exactly! Just like what Marvel did to me! You were unconscious!”

“It’s not the same”, he tried softly. “You know how I feel about you. Marvel had no right to touch you!”

I forgot how wild the mention of Marvel made Peeta. I’d never watched our games, no intentions on seeing myself suffer in HD when it never left my nightmares. Marvel was the only tribute that Peeta had killed but I’d been unconscious when it happened. I’d woken up 3 days later latched onto Peeta like a tick, refusing to let go. No panties or shirt under my jacket and jeans but very sore. Marvel was nowhere in sight but, there was blood on the left wall of the cave. Peeta told me he’d gotten to me in time but with the soreness I had? It was clearly to keep what little sanity I’d had left intact. I allowed them to think I’d believed the lie.

It took what little good I had left in me. Forever taking what little hope I had to be with Peeta away.

“I was unconscious. So were you. Unconscious people can’t say no”, I snarled taking another step backwards.

“It’s not the same. I invited you into my bed. I lov-”

“Stop it!” I screeched bolting from the room.

I can hear Peeta scrambling to get together to come behind me but I’ve always been faster. And I cared little for pants anyway. I darted out the window and took off to the forest. It’d grown much lusher since the districts can come and go between each other. It was warm out even with night still reigning. I needed to hurt something so I didn’t hurt myself. Going to my hollowed-out trunk I bypassed the bow today, needing more personal methods of killing tonight.

I stayed out until the sky began to turn Peeta’s favorite colors. Taking that as my sign to head back with my haul. I left half of my kill in the ice cooler in the now updated shed out here that the hunters have asked my permission to utilize. They can carry the heavy buck back to town themselves. I’d skinned it. They can do the rest.

After taking a bath in the pond I finally trekked back to the Victors Village, peeking around the homes to make sure Peeta wasn’t in sight. When the coast was clear I slid into the side window of Haymitch’s living room and started a fire, depositing my kill in the sink. He was fast asleep in one of the armchairs in front of the fire with a cup beside him. I fumbled through the middle cabinet in the back compartment for my secret stash. Found em! I grabbed three of the bottles of the clear liquid and plopped down on the loveseat in front of the fire.

“Want some pants there sweetheart?”, he chuckles with a stretch that makes his bones pop loudly.

“No. But I’ll take a blanket”

He removed the black fuzzy blanket from the chair that Peeta usually sits in and draped it over my legs since I was sitting Indian-style on the couch staring into the flames. The smell of his cinnamon wafted into my nostrils hitting me with another wave of guilt.

“You know he was here looking for you last night, right?”

“I’m sure”, I grimace swallowing 1/3 of the first bottle in one swig.

I understood why Haymitch used to drown himself daily to numb the memories. I quite liked the burn of alcohol myself and the dreamy state that I felt when it hit.

“A bit early for you, isn’t it?”

“You’re one to talk”, I snort

“Exactly. I said early for you”

He took the second bottle from my lap and poured half into his teacup. I shoot him a halfhearted smirk. Haymitch was my mentor but he became more of a father to me than I’d ever known. I liked that he was flawed. It made me feel like I wasn’t alone in this. He didn’t judge me. Haymitch just was blunt. Not everyone liked that. I did. We’d grown close in our last 5 years together knowing he wasn’t one to lie to me....normally. We sat in comfortable silence for a little while before it came tumbling out.

“I molested Peeta”, I breath shakily as I take another gulp.

Haymitch choked on his hot toddy and slammed the cup down. He was on the couch beside me forcing me to look at him faster than I could register with his powerful grip. Sometimes I forget just how agile he can be.

“That is not what you did! Don’t fucking say that again!”

“It’s what it feels like! I was never supposed to taint him!”

“Grow up! You’re both adults now. You know good and God damn well if Peeta invited you to sleep in that bed with him, he’s more than willing to take whatever you give him. He wouldn’t have allowed you to sleep beside him anymore once you turned 18 if you both hadn’t known what could come from your little arrangement!”

“Not like that Pops”, I cried wiping my eyes in frustration. “I almost did to him what Marvel did to me. It’s why I can’t with Peeta. He deserves so much better”

“Is that what you really think happened?”

I’d never seen Haymitch’s crystal blue eyes so downhearted. To finally understand that I never once believed any of them when they told me that lie to keep me sane.

That I know they’d all lied to me.

“If you refuse to watch the game, I think you owe it to Peeta to ask him about what happened that night”

“I did”

He knew this entire topic left me feeling as raw as if the gamemakers rubbed me through a grater.

“No, you didn’t. In the games all you did was ask what happened to Marvel. You never talked about it when he told you he got to you in time. You just assumed he meant saving your life”

“Drop it”

“No. Talk to him about it. It didn’t happen”

“Your pussy didn’t hurt for a week!”, I shout into his stupefied face pushing him away from me and stomping to the kitchen to grab another bottle now that mine were empty.

Haymitch is on me in seconds.

“Look, we can drink ourselves blue, but go sit. Get warm. I’ve got this. We’re going to talk about this. Now”

I resign myself to listen, my body already wracked with physical exhaustion. I didn’t want to deal with the emotional draining this topic required. I curl back up under the soft covers, staring into the flames, wishing they’d swallow me whole. The one person I swore to protect, I’d violated. Yet he’d come here looking for me worried about my mental health. Haymitch has made me a hot toddy and it warms my whole body with each sip.

“You were right you know”

“I always am” he huffed indignantly

“I could live a thousand lifetimes and never deserve him”

“I was being bitter when I said that”

“Still true”

“Never was. You underestimate him as a man and that’s your problem. I know you’re healing; you’re growing. We all are. But you need to accept that he is a man now. Peeta is fully aware of the consequences to all of the choices you two make. Respect him by accepting that”

“I know full well what an amazing person Peeta is”

“Clearly. I said as a man. If you’re dry humping him in your dreams, might as well accept that you love him too. No point in fighting it sweetheart. Truth be told, I thought this happened years ago”

“Haymitch!”

Either the liquor was kicking in or he just was feeling unusually open today. We never really discussed my private life with Peeta sleeping at my place or me at his. I did feel quite loose but I didn’t feel safe. I eyed the chair warily but decided I would need his scent to sleep comfortably. I dragged the comforter up with me and curled into the plush armchair Peeta always sat in, burying my nose in the arm cushion. It smelled just like him. Bread, butter, whiskey and honeysuckle.

“You love him and it’s time to accept it. Even if you were just friends, you don’t think you owe him a conversation about what happened? No matter how in denial you are about what happened in your games”

“I’m scared”, I admit with a tremble as my body sags further into the chair.

I’d only slept for 2 hours at Peeta’s and I was exhausted, the liquor snatching the rest of my energy that his comforting scent hadn’t. I’d been comfortable pretending to believe the lie without ever having to discuss it.

“You’ll get over it” Haymitch snorts tucking the blanket in tighter around me

I feel a kiss to my forehead before I’m out.

***

Haymitch slipped some morphling in your drink. It was easy to get you to listen when he slipped you some after coming down from a manic episode as your sanity lapsed sometimes. It still happened to him sometimes too. It bothered him that you’d felt this way for 5 years but, hopefully you and Peeta would work that out.

Speaking of which.

Haymitch made his way 5 houses down, not bothering to knock as he strolled into Peeta’s kitchen. He’d been up all night worried about you. It was clear because there was fresh baked bread, rolls and bagels all over the counters. Haymitch pocketed 2 rolls clearly made from District 4’s tropical ingredients. Finnick must have sent some over. He grabbed a loaf of raisin bread that had to have come out recently because it was steaming. Peeta looked up from the sink hearing Haymitch crunch on a bear-claw behind him noisily. He quickly dropped the pan he’d been holding and darted over, his wide brown eyes full of worry.

“Is she ok?”

“You are free to come and pick up your delightful cinnamon roll at your leisure. She’s passed out in your chair. Again”

“Did...did you slip her morphling?”

“Didn’t have much choice after the nonsense she was talking”

“What do you mean?”

Peeta removed his apron and slipped on a hoodie, following Haymitch down the front stairs. Haymitch stopped and let out a sigh that seemed like it weighed his entire spirit down.

“She thinks she molested you. And that Marvel raped her”

Now it was Peeta’s turn to recoil.

“What?”

“Exactly”

It would take at least 6 hours for the morphling to wear off but Peeta was nothing if he wasn’t patient. He waited 11 years just to be noticed by you. He could wait a few more hours to clear this up and truly make you his. He made his way into Haymitch’s living room to see you passed out on his lounge. Nuzzling your nose deep into the cushions to feel as if you were surrounded by his natural smell. This brought Peeta some comfort. You still only wore one of his t-shirts and a pair of boxershorts, but it was clear you’d been out hunting. There were still some leaves in your long, dark curls. There were still some leaves in your long, dark curls. He plucked them out and ran his fingers through them tenderly.

“Sorry about this”

“Don’t be. Just...work this out. Today”

“I will”

Peeta scooped you into his arms with ease, blanket and all, carrying you to his home and lying you down back in the bed. He had at least an hour before you began to fight at the morphling, realizing you were alone.

He had to find that tape.

Then he'd have to wake up an old ally. Hopefully he'd have time for him right now.

It took about 20 minutes of fumbling through the large box from when Effie had sent the previous victor tapes over for the Quarter Quell but he finally found it. It took another 20 minutes to split the particularly unpleasant angles out, Peeta grit his teeth angrily trying to keep his head together as his rage threatened to consume him. Beetee helped him through it, talking deeply and gently through their breathing and processing techniques. Once he had the tape together he took it into the bedroom and lay it on the nightstand. Watching you sleep for a little bit, wanting to climb in beside you so bad.

A few hours of indulgence couldn't hurt.

[inthemixmedia]

kill sh*t

[tranquilityangel]

not apologizing to you. apologizing to himself.

would you rather apologies or eulogies?

[thundergrace]

Erica Ash died from cancer today. It really is a shame she never got her big break in Hollywood. But that isn't to say she didn't make an impression.

I knew her from The Big Gay Sketch Show. Then she was on the last season of MADtv. The next really notable thing I watched her on was Survivor's Remorse (M-Chuck, one of few Black lesbian characters ever, still). She was also hilarious on The Real Husbands of Hollywood. Speaking of which, she produced tumblr's favorite meme on that show:

I think the very last thing I saw her on was Legacies. She played MG's mom, and she was so good. That was the first time I'd seen her play a dramatic role.

Ah wait no she was in Horror Noire, that's right! I recommended that to you guys! It is so good!

Seems the last thing she was in was a family horror film with Anthony Mackie, David Harbour, and Jennifer Coolidge called, 'We Have a Ghost' last year. So I'll be checking that out soon!

R.I.P Erica 😔

[toyhousedramas]

I just find life makes me less angry when I default to assuming good faith.

.

[jils-things]

i have such a funny love-hate relationship with foo.ls gold because like. the way he's designed is so ... like you KNOW he was meant to get the fanbase racking their brains off on how attractive he is for a HUNTER (i HATE falling for that but ... look at me like back at november /j) i still like him because he's technically still nort.on but the way he gets characterized as a hunter - is much of like... a smug bitch....... and if you know me with chi.lde then you know i'd want to bully him /lh everytime i see him its like "ugh its him .... hi btw" LMAO

im very emotionally invested in nort.on as a survivor because i truly empathize with him but when i see fg its like OHHH this self righteous bitch okkkk okkkkkkkkk (sprays him with windex)

[yooniesim]

I don't know who to believe anymore, both of you have been making wild assumptions, and you've taken it the farthest. Please sit and think about if this is worth the time and energy.

Don't worry anon- fortunately, facts speak for themselves! Won't be any wild assumptions or claims, just their own words/posts. I won't ask you to believe anything I say at face value. Cos anyone can lie on the internet, right? I'm not gonna do that. I'll just lay it out, all the screenshots- just as he did- and people can come to their own conclusions about what they think about it. I think that's about fair, right? That's exactly what he did, after all.

(Also, the fact that he said myself and the others triggered by his actions "claim" to be victims, and mocked me being in mourning for my father that died 8 days ago while comparing it to his eviction took out the last tiny bit of sympathy I had. Sorry! Here's an example of a screenshot of something actually fucking disgusting for you.)

[nomorechaos]

An Abuser's Apology: Today's Rant

I read this somewhere once ... "It's like putting a band aid on a bullet wound."

Reading that, I realized that is exactly how the abusive man in my life apologizes. He covers the wound with a band aid, and claims it is all better.

When I express that the wound still hurts, he ignores me at first, denies that he had anything to do with the wound, reminds me of all the wonderful things he does for me. So there is absolutely no way the wound is his fault. He shakes his head, in a sad way, assuring me that all is fine, I am being too sensitive and imaging the pain.

A few days later, when the infection starts oozing out. And I show him the pus, saying I need something to take care of it. He angrily refuses to look at it. Saying I am exaggerating, and why haven't I forgiven him yet. He also hides the antiseptic, telling me I just need to get over it and toughen up.

A few days later when the infection starts to smell, he confronts me about it. Saying he can't stand being around the stink. I say I need help and can he take me somewhere to get the wound looked at. He angrily gets mad at me for expecting him to help. He angrily claims that he's sick of me asking him to clean up my mess that I should have taken care of myself long ago. He then claims: "If you aren't going to take responsibility for your own issues, I am damn well not going to." I cry that he wounded me in the first place. He firmly states, "Get over it!"

Now I am left, with a festering, oozing hurt. While he's out with his buddies, complaining about my physical and mental instabilities. They comfort and assure him that I am crap while he gives and puts up with so much.

This is every apology ever, for the last 35 years!!!

[artdivadej]

Survivor's Remorse (III)

Part Three

18+ | NSFW |

Trigger warnings: PTSD, Gore, Death, Sexual Trauma mentioned

Part 4| Part 5| Part 6| Part 7

When I woke up, I was back in Peeta’s bed and not alone. Haymitch must have fetched him once I gave in to my exhaustion. He sat beside me in the bed, propped against the headboard trapped in place by my arms locked around his thighs, my head lying in his lap. Once again keeping him in anchored in place. His fingers ran through my hair tenderly, twirling within the curls and rolling them around his fingers. His right hand just above my forehead, the thumb stroking my temple as he hummed The Willow lullaby in his throat lowly.

Oh, my sweet Peeta.

I couldn’t help it when I nuzzled into his hand as his left thumb began to stroke at my cheek, shifting his hips so he could be closer to me. I wiggled a little as my eyelids fluttered and while Peeta’s humming stopped, his fingers hadn’t. My heart thudded wildly in my chest with the fear of having to face him. Ugh I am such a coward.

“Love”, Peeta called in that honey sweet deep hum of his

Biting my lip, I took a steadying breath and rolled to face him, grateful the curtains of my hair mostly hid my eyes as I peeked through my lashes at him. I relinquish my hold around his thighs and slowly draw myself from his lap in a sitting position beside him, my head still lowered.

How was I supposed to just talk about this?

Biting my lip harder, it took Peeta’s gentle hand on my cheek to snap me out of my inner turmoil. As I nuzzled into his warmth, his thumb slid under my chin tilting it up with ease so that I was now forced to stay trapped in the deep honey filled depths. His eyes saddened just the slightest in the pained blink he gave when he saw that mine were still red and terrified. His index finger slid back and forth across my plump bottom lip and I knew that even red and puffy he wanted to kiss me.

It felt criminal to wish that he would.

“We need to talk” “About?” “Us”

A sharp intake of air was the only answer I gave him. I was ok to talk about this.

“And our first games”

This I was not.

“What about it?” I snap defensively pulling out of his touch.

I don’t want him touching me when the grime of that time still coated my skin. Not those hands.

“I...I don’t want to upset you” “A little late for that” “I’m sorry about that. But, I want to be with you too much to let this be what’s keeping you from me” “Peeta please” “Not this time sweetness”, he shook his head as his blonde curls moved like waves against his forehead.

Mmm. His hair only looked like that when he’d been running his hands through it repeatedly in frustration. He did it a lot when he was stuck on a design of something those strong fingers created. I loved when it was tousled like that.

“First of all, you’ve always had permission to touch me however you wanted to since our first games. I don’t know if you remember but, I’m pretty sure I gave you explicit permission in that cave and again on stage in front of millions of people”

I searched my memory.

The interview.

I told Caesar about how I felt that I could keep Peeta and it gave me hope. I hadn’t wanted to elaborate on what I meant because I wasn’t quite sure myself. Peeta had lit up beside me, his body weight shifting so that he was domineering now dwarfing me with his body and energy on that loveseat. He had whispered it so huskily in my ear, his warm breath fanning against my neck in a way that made me grateful my thighs were pulled up tight on the couch firmly pressed together.

“So, now that you’ve got me, what are you going to do with me?”

When I’d answered him, he’d kissed me with such passion I had the distinct feeling that he would have made love to me right there if there weren’t other people in that room.

“That was not an invitation” “I’m the one who sent it love. I’m pretty sure it was” he chuckled pulling me closer so that he could rest his forehead against mine “Oh sweet girl...I want to kiss you. Really kiss you”

When I didn’t move away his eyes widen a little before his right arm snakes around my waist and pulls me so that my leg is thrown over his, my left tucked on the bed between us. His hand is back on my cheek, my neck arching to meet his eyes. When had he gotten so much taller than me? I didn’t realize I’d licked my lips or been staring at his until his tongue flicked out and copied the action. A small pant of anticipation leaves my lips bringing a small smirk to his lips.

“We have to talk first”, he breathed. “Oh Peeta please” I gasp wanting to stay in this dreamworld he had me trapped in “I promise I’ll have my mouth on every single inch of you tonight” “Oh yes please” “After love”

With a huff I tucked my face into his neck for a minute attempting to calm down. Why was I giving in to my normally easy to stifle urges like this?

I took care of these thoughts I had about Peeta at home.

Alone.

I wasn’t vocal about this. I never admitted my craving for him like this aloud to anyone. What the hell was going on with me? My body still felt heavy, a small thrum like a hummingbird's wing going through my veins.

Morphling. That fucking Haymitch. Traitor.

Peeta turns me in his hold so that my back is to his chest, his large thighs like tree trunks on the outer of mine, fluffy and plump in comparison. When had he gotten so damned hunky?

Well...he was kind of always this way, wasn’t he? When he’d turned 17 and we went to those games I saw a completely different Peeta than I had 2 years before at 15 tossing flour in his parents bakery. Peeta was stocky and cut.

It made sense that every girl but me had noticed and wanted him, not being big on anything outside of survival. Not until I'd volunteered, slamming my hand over Katniss' lips as I violently yank her backwards into line. She had a family and honestly, most of our district to provide for. We hunted together but I had no one that needed me.

I was alone. I always had been. If I could save her then I could help the district stay fed. Even with me dead Gale and Katniss would still be alive to provide the meat for our people. A necessary sacrifice.

“Do you want me to touch you?” “Sometimes”, I admit before I can stop myself and just sigh in defeat knowing the morphling and alcohol has given me a loose tongue regardless. “I’d never thought about any of that until you’d kissed me in the cave. Something just different about that one. I could feel you really didn’t want me to go. I laid up that night going over every good memory I’d ever had. You, your blonde hair, the dandelions that always seemed to grow around you...were always in the background. It was in that cave I realized I’d always been watching you too”

His arms tighten around me and I wish I could see his face. He inclines his head and I can feel his wide grin against my cheek.

“Do you like me?”

I don’t know why but I start gasping for air, tears streaming down my cheeks in resigned guilt, his arms tightening nervously.

“Yes” “Do you love me?” he husks as his breath catches in his throat

I begin to struggle against his stronghold now. If I admit it to him, I can never stay with him. I need to run.

“This is what we need to talk about. Why are you running?” “I can’t. We can’t” “Because of what you think Marvel did to you?”

Now I’m hissing like an angry cat trying to get out of his hold. He barely had to use any effort to keep me still and I was still already almost out of breath. Marvel, the fucking Capitol. The list was growing of thing I didn't want to think about and tried to force myself to forget.

“He didn’t hurt you the way you think he did love” Peeta whispers in that honey sweet drop tone again

I begin to settle but he knows this is a façade and his grip does not slacken in the slightest. He knows me too well.

“Tell me what you remember about that night”

I am now totally still in his arms fighting against the vicious memories. ‘Even if you were just friends, you don’t think you owe him a conversation about what happened?’. I know Haymitch is right so, with a shaky breath that steadies with the tightening of his arms around me, I begin to talk to Peeta about that night.

***

I’d killed 2 tributes who’d been on my tail that day and was bleeding pretty badly from one of them. A career. He’d had a curved blade that sliced me across my stomach from ribcage to ribcage.

I’d fashioned a needle out of my fishhook and used some of my own hair to stitch what I could up to staunch the bleeding, at least until I got to a bag with a real first aid kit in it. I bit down on some tree bark to staunch my screams and give myself something to focus while I stitched myself together.

My sponsors must have liked this.

I was done and washing the blood off by the river, delirious from blood loss (thankfully my was body in shock) when I heard the familiar beeping of a parachute. There was a note from Haymitch. It contained a syringe to give me a boost of some blood supplement to keep me going and a 3 oz jar.

HIDE & APPLY –H.

Whatever it was, he knew it would leave me open to attack. I’d need recovery time.

Injecting the needle directly into my neck I look around the bank hoping it has some rock caverns like the one further upstream does.

It doesn’t.

Shit.

Maybe I can make it there before the adrenaline wears off? I’d been looking for Peeta for most of the day when the Careers had caught up to me and I was exhausted. As I stumbled along, I found a nice one that was perfect for daytime sleeping too. Covering the entrance with twigs and leaves I dipped inside of the camouflage.

Once tucked neatly inside I lay my back against the left side of the entrance’s wall. Pulling my shirt off I unwrapped the bandages I’d hastily wrapped around myself and began to slather the blue ointment on generously. It had an instant numbing sensation before it felt like a cool jelly was rolling over the sutured skin. With a sigh of relief, I tucked the jar away, pulling my knife to sit on my thigh as the numbing sensation began to spread throughout my entire upper body.

This is what Haymitch was warning me about. I had to get away from the lip of the cave if I was going to be practically immobile for a few hours. Just as I’d begun to drag myself backwards to the heart of the place, I heard the sadistic cackle.

“Found you” Marvel smirked climbing in.

Adrenaline was always my saving grace at the worst of times and I was depending on it heavily right now. My hand was still around my knife so I slashed it at him with a roar of defiance, refusing to be killed this way. I’d nicked his cheek because he was a bit too tall for the cave but he was still stronger and I was weak from blood loss and medication. He’d knocked my hand aside, slamming my wrist against a stone to let it go, before pinning it above my head.

“Glad to see Clint didn’t get the tits. They’re hot” he panted

As I kicked and bucked beneath him his panting only grew louder, fumbling with my pants as he yanked them down my legs. Oh no!

If there was going to be any boy I’d ever let touch me, it would be....

“Peeta!”, I screech like a wild animal biting at the arm that held my hands pinned

I can hear his buckle going and my heart is practically pounding in my ears. They wouldn’t let him would they? Of course they would. They sold us to sponsors. The Capitol would love this. Star-crossed lovers ripped apart by Captiol favorites and tainted beyond repair before death. This was primetime tv. Oh but this would only air in the Capitol. A secret from the Districts about their taboo guilty pleasures.

I wanted to cry until my throat was raw but I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. He was pushing and yanking against me so roughly but, so much of me was numb and my consciousness was fading, it was hard to tell when I couldn’t even lift my head. With the very last ounce of strength left in my body I screamed loud enough to hopefully scar every single pair of ears watching for all eternity,

“I only want Peeta!”

As my eyes roll in the back of my head I see a flash of gold before I’m out cold.

***

“That’s what I remember” I breath still shaking in his secure embrace “Can you promise to listen to what I remember now? Please sweetness?”, Peeta coos softly in my ear

I hear Haymitch’s condescending yet honest voice in my ear, ‘Grow up.’ and the alcohol/morphling cocktail was helping ease my stubborn attitude.

“Yes”

It’s all I offer.

I don’t expect what he does next and it makes me understand why he’d yet to slacken his hold on me. He’s playing our games on a small screen at the end of the bed.

“No!” “You promised” “But I-” “It’s only about 5 minutes I promise. I even had Beetee help piece it together with me. Luckily, he was awake”

I trust Beetee. Beetee was always a friend. He’s one of the reasons I recovered so well from the trackerjacker torture with so much of my mind in tact. I’m still tense in his arms but I don’t try to run now. The assurance that an ally has helped him soothes my distrust.

Peeta continues the video.

It’s that night and Peeta is clearly tracking me. Had to have been the way I was him to find me once they made the announcement.

“I knew I was close but you move so quietly in the forest. I mainly had to track you through your snares and the wildlife I know you’d recognize”, he explains.

I watch him track me pretty well for someone who’d only been learning it for a week. It’s clear he only can because he knows me. Then his head snaps up. It’s clear Beetee made sure none of the Capitol commentary is on it, just the sounds from the games. I appreciate that. Then clear as a bell, I can hear my scream from the northeast.

He really wasn’t very far from me.

“That was my name”, Peeta breaths his hands shaking

Peeta’s wide body tears through the brush, towards the sounds of the scuffling where he heard the scream come from, unforgiving of anything in his path.

“Come on. One more time. One more time love!”, he was whispering under his breath.

He was at the river now, looking around wildly for any sign of me. It was clear to see his whole body was shaking as he fought his fear of the worst.

“I only want Peeta!”

It wasn’t more than 50 feet in front of him. That cave! He’d have never noticed it if he hadn’t heard me.

He bolted for it and I closed my eyes.

My breath hitched in my throat, not wanting to really see this from his point of view. I’d been in denial about this too long to have to face it like this.

“Open your eyes. Please. You need to see this” “I know what happened” “No, you don’t. I said I got to you in time. I wouldn’t lie to you about that” “Peeta...you have no idea how sore I was” “I didn’t say it wasn’t for lack of trying. He was trying but he was too excited. Scared. Inexperienced. I’m not really sure. I didn’t really give him time to explain himself”

Now I tilt my head up and nudge his chin with my temple forcing his attention off of the paused screen back down to my face. When his eyes meet mine, I search them for a while, seeing that honest gentility I’d always come to know from him.

“Prove it”

Peeta kisses my forehead before turning my face back to the screen. Now he’s threaded his fingers through mine as he holds his arms wrapped tight around me. I like this position.

“Ready?” “Ready”

Peeta bursts into the cave, looking around wildly before he looks down. Marvel isn’t aware he’s there yet as he’s cursing in annoyance and shifting his hips. Peeta crept closer picking up the knife I’d been forced to drop.

As he slunk to the left with deadly silence, he realized just what was happening. Marvel was struggling to try and penetrate me, his hands shaking as he kept just trying to shove himself in, his left arm on the wall behind my head to try and keep his balance while his right hand raked at my skin.

Peeta’s eyes go feral, his lips pulled back in a snarl and he drops the knife. The sound startles Marvel but it’s too late now. Peeta’s hands are around his slim throat and lifting him from my naked body as if he weighed nothing, slamming his temple into the side of the cave over and over, a wild fire in his eyes. Each time his head met the stone it making a sickening wet, crack.

Peeta picked the knife back up when Marvel slumped to the floor with a moan, part of his skull crushed. But Peeta was not finished. Peeta forced him to his knees, hands gripped tightly in his hair, yanking them by the root. He held him there before me, so he could stare directly at me through the streams of blood running down his face.

“Mine!”, he rumbles loudly in Marvel’s ear in a deep cadence I’d never heard from him, his honey eyes dark as night.

Before Marvel can blink Peeta slits his throat, letting his blood run over and at my feet.

It was as if he'd sacrificed him before me for the disrespect. Was it wrong to love watching him become such a force? To love that he'd do such a thing for me.

The games really have made me a monster, haven't they?

“You are nothing”, he sneers in his ear waiting for all the life to leave his body before dragging him out of the cave and kicking him into the river for the Gamemaker's to find.

Rushing back inside to find me Peeta quickly checks if I have a pulse first. He lets out a sigh of relief before taking the water jug Marvel had. He used it to wash the blood from my reopening wounds of my upper body.

“I’m sorry love. I promise I’ll cover you soon”, he apologizes as he cleans my body.

He rewraps my stomach wound and uses the rest of the bindings to fashion me a makeshift bra, for modesty's sake I suppose.

“I’ll make this part quick I swear. I’m sorry”, Peeta apologizes again softly looking into my sleeping face.

I know what he’s going to do. He has to double check, and get all traces of Marvel off of me. It’s clear he’s trying to figure out where the cameras would be placed, as he looks suspiciously around the cave, before giving up and just doing his best to shield me as much as he can. He’s on his knees, mine propped up over his and resting atop his thighs so that even if he could see all of me no one else could. He grabs the jug and a piece of his shirt he’d ripped to begin cleaning between my legs. He’s so gentle and serious as he inspects to make sure Marvel hadn’t actually penetrated me. He hangs his head for a second before mumbling to himself.

“She’s gonna smack me when she sees this”, he groans before taking his middle finger, gently and slowly slipping it within me.

My eyes narrow and I’m sure he feels my back stiffen, because his arms tighten slightly around me, to stop me from actually smacking him if I were so inclined.

Video Peeta lets out a deep sigh of relief before planting a kiss to my bent knee.

“You’re all good love. Impotence must be a Careers thing” Peeta chuckles to himself in a private joke.

Once I’d been fully cleaned by him, Peeta quickly dressed me in my pants and tucked me deep into the sleeping bag. That only lasts for a few hours because I’d begun to flail in my sleep calling for Peeta, threatening to open my wounds again. He never left my side after that.

I hadn’t realized I’d been hyperventilating until Peeta’s voice is calling out to me softly. Marvel didn’t. He couldn’t. Peeta really had gotten to me in time. I wasn’t a complete monster.

I wailed and slumped against his chest feeling boneless. Peeta turned me in his arms and began to lay kisses over my forehead and tear-filled eyes over and over before making me look into his again.

“I need you to understand something sweetness. Whether he had or hadn’t, it wouldn’t have changed a thing for me about you. I love you. Do you hear me? Someone hurting you wounds me; it could never disgust me. I kept my distance because I didn’t want to pressure you when I knew what he tried to do to you. I need you to want to give me all of you. To have you watch me drown in all of your pleasure as you let go and trust me with all of you. But that had to be on your time. To find out that you’ve been pushing me away all this time because of him...” Peeta’s voice cracks as his forehead lays against mine “I killed almost as many tributes as the Careers did in that arena Peeta. All I wanted was to keep you safe. I didn’t care how much a monster that made me. Then we got back...and the Capitol changed my eyes, my mouth and even tried my breasts before Haymitch took me from the surgical table in a rage. I’d become the monster they wanted. Marvel was under orders to take the last remaining shred of my humanity left. And I thought he had Peeta. Do you understand what that meant?” “Tell me” “My world was now darkness. You are light. You are air. All the good things in the world. Even having been cast into the darkness, you still outshined it. I feel like I’m standing in the sun when I’m with you. I couldn’t bring myself to taint the one thing in my life I’d swore to live and die for. Even when they were breaking my bones and trying to force me to forget the real you, I held onto that light. I knew no matter how dark my world got, as long as you were close enough to shine some light, I could breathe. But I couldn’t drag you into the darkness with me” “I would follow you to the pits of hell if it meant I could spend eternity with you”, he rumbled

Something in me snapped.

I didn’t give him time to move out of reach again. I pulled his bottom lip into my mouth and threw my left leg over his so I was straddling his lap. Peeta responds eagerly, taking me into his arms and slipping his tongue under my top lip taking control of my passion as he hungrily explored my mouth.

He even tasted of honey and nutmeg.

Both of his warm hands slid up my back beneath my shirt, bunching it up higher and higher as he caresses my skin. It’s easy since it’s one of his and quite loose on my small frame but his hands are leaving trails of goosebumps all over my skin and I tremble against him unwittingly.

When he nips my plump bottom lip I gasp, my hips jerking so that I ground against him. That...that felt good. Capturing my lips in a heated kiss Peeta’s hips roll against mine and I see just why it feels so good. I can feel his length against the seat of my underwear. I whine in his mouth as a shuddering breath escapes his lips.

Leaning back to press my hips further into his I throw my head back and begin to roll in a steady rhythm with him. Just as I’m about to lean back up for another kiss I feel his lips enclose around my right nipple, his mouth so wet and needy.

“Peeta!” I croon with a jerk of the hips

His left hand cupped my breast to get a better angle and yes, he did. He laid wet, suckling kisses to my hardened nipple. With each suckling kiss he increased the pressure and extended the time he spent between them.

“I promised I would have my mouth all over you tonight baby. I intend to keep that promise”

Oh I had so many plans for that mouth tonight.

(Had to cut this one in half cuz it's LONG. Next chapter is straight smut I swear 😈😏😹)

[inthemixmedia]

[dulcewrites]

Hey, just wanted to say thank you for being one of the few writers that writes Aemond centric fics without feeling the need to bash the living daylight out of Aegon. It’s always so frustrating to see most fic writers drag Aegon through the dirt ten times over to make Aemond seem more likable.

no problem!

I do try to walk a very… delicate line with how I write/discuss Aegon. Because though I think it is fair to dissect the disparities between how narratives were set up, at least in s1 (Aegon vs Rhaenyra, team black vs team green, Alicent vs Rhaenyra), I do not want to slip into rape apologia territory. Which unfortunately, and I don’t think people are trying to but impact and intent aren’t the same, I do feel like a lot of people trying to ‘defend’ Aegon or just make sense of the choices the writer/producers made end up doing. It is entirely possible to write/discuss his character true to form without either erasing the bad parts (even before the events of ep 8) or exacerbating them.

Honesty, one of the reasons why it’s hard for me to continue with my Aegon centric work that I never feel like I have a good handle on his character. I try to do the characters justice and I’m annoying about my shit always, and it’s made worse when I can’t characterize someone right. It’s something I’m working on slowly but surely

[armentas]

holy shit. delora doesn't exist within the haven universe anymore, but i absolutely need to have someone use the old dialogue i had planned for her.

delora, comforting heather: if you think about it, we exist in the first place because people care for each other. we exist because people loved each other as far back as adam and eve, and cain and abel.

heather: i think you're thinking of the wrong story. cain killed abel.

delora: i think you can love someone, and still kill them.

HELLO????

[subtlesolitude-tailoredtaste]

🧠🔫🧿

[swagging-back-to]

i dont think people talk enough about how devastating endgame was