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โ SO, YOU WANNA SHIFT TO THE HUNGER GAMES? ( no judgement, just ideas )

ใ.โโ ใใหใใ ใใ*ใใ ใใโฆใใใ.ใใ.ใใใโฆให ใใใใโหใ.หใใใใโฆใใใ.ใใ. ใโหใ.ใ
you find yourself captivated by the fierce competitors, the raw survival skills, and the thrill of the Gamesโbut youโre not here for the trauma or the soul-crushing political weight of the Capitol. you want to shift into the arena as a competitor, but youโre not particularly excited by the idea of killing or experiencing the emotional scars of the Games (hopefully.) you just want the vibes of it all. anyway, iโm gonna ramble about some safe, exciting, and less intense ways to dive into this reality
SAFEGUARDS FOR THE ARENA ( no one wants to die in the first five minutesโor at all )

ใ.โโ ใใหใใ ใใ*ใใ ใใโฆใใใ.ใใ.ใใใโฆให ใใใใโหใ.หใใใใโฆใใใ.ใใ. ใโหใ.ใ
first and foremost, if youโre going to be a competitor in the Games, you need a solid shield to make sure you can actually survive without getting too hurtโphysically or emotionally. letโs make sure you can have the experience of being in the arena without the real risk
.ใใ. ใโหใ. non-violent approach. script that youโre a survivor in the Games, not a fighter. either youโre protecting others, or just outlasting everyone, but not killing. your weapons could be more about defenseโyou use a shield, traps, or stealth to protect yourself without ever needing to engage in direct combat
.ใใ. ใโหใ. immune from fatal injury. this is your script, and you donโt have to die in the arena. script that no matter what happens, you canโt be seriously injured or killed. youโre immune to lethal attacks, or your injuries heal incredibly fast. youโre invincible, in the sense that youโll never meet a tragic end during the Games
.ใใ. ใโหใ. no fatal hits. any lethal blows or attacks are automatically deflected or blockedโwhether by some unseen protective power or just sheer willpower, the important part is that you can never actually kill another contestant
.ใใ. ใโหใ. non-violent encounters. you can script that, coincidentally, any encounters you have in the Games are strictly non-violent. you might have to face other competitors, but these interactions can be in the form of alliances, strategic plays, or even just passive avoidance. you certainly donโt need to kill anyone
YOUR DAY-TO-DAY IN THE ARENA ( so youโre prepared, not overwhelmed )

ใ.โโ ใใหใใ ใใ*ใใ ใใโฆใใใ.ใใ.ใใใโฆให ใใใใโหใ.หใใใใโฆใใใ.ใใ. ใโหใ.ใ
being a competitor in the Hunger Games is a big deal, and itโs important to understand what life will look like in the arena without having your mind explode over the chaos. youโre stepping into a world of survival, but you can make it a lot less intense by scripting the day-to-day experience in a way thatโs more manageable, and less heavy
LIFE BEFORE THE ARENA: TRAINING & PREP
.ใใ. ใโหใ. prep period. before the Games start, make sure you get plenty of training time and preparation. youโre not going to be thrown into the chaos without some confidence in your abilities. training is mostly about learning survival skills, but you could also script camaraderie, forming alliances, and other semi-positive interactions with other tributes during prep
.ใใ. ใโหใ. skills you actually enjoy. maybe you love archery, or youโre great at crafting. choose skills that make you feel empowered rather than terrified. you donโt have to just script being great with a weaponโyou can script that you have unique abilities that set you apart, like building traps, reading the environment, or surviving using cleverness and wit ( which also happen to be non-violent and less stressful, by the way )
LIFE IN THE ARENA
.ใใ. ใโหใ. less violent challenges. not all of the challenges of the Games have to be focused on physical combat. you can script periods of challenge that test the tributes on survival skills or problem-solving instead of being forced into deadly combat. for example, the Gamemakers could test you on endurance, mental agility, or resourcefulness, where the goal is simply to outsmart the arena rather than outfight it
.ใใ. ใโหใ. alliances. while alliances can be a tricky thing in the Hunger Games, you can script the arena to be slightly more cooperative. you could form something close to a โteamโ that helps each other with food, water, and shelter. this would also subside the isolation of the Games, so they arenโt an on-sight bloodbath at every second
THE LITTLE DETAILS

ใ.โโ ใใหใใ ใใ*ใใ ใใโฆใใใ.ใใ.ใใใโฆให ใใใใโหใ.หใใใใโฆใใใ.ใใ. ใโหใ.ใ
.ใใ. ใโหใ. the scent of freshly baked bread wafts through the districtโs square every morning, a fragrance most people enjoy, even when most people canโt afford it
.ใใ. ใโหใ. your favorite mug has a single shallow crack running down the center of it, and thereโs a thin ribbon tied around the handle
.ใใ. ใโหใ. you wear a tiny locket with a single pressed flower insideโthe only one of those flowers youโve ever seen, which is why you had to preserve it
.ใใ. ใโหใ. the chill of early morning fog clings to your skin every morning as you walk down the street and hug your jacket around you
.ใใ. ใโหใ. you have a faint scar on your wrist from when you fell as a kid, while climbing a fence. that was before you truly understood fear
.ใใ. ใโหใ. a patchwork quilt is draped over your bed, made of squares of tattered pastel fabric stitched together
.ใใ. ใโหใ. you have a pocketknife that was gifted to you by a childhood mentor, with a smooth wooden handle. you always keep it tucked in your boot, just in case
.ใใ. ใโหใ. thereโs a small patch of weedy powder blue wildflowers that grows just outside the fence near your home. you look at it every day and think about what youโd do if/when you pick them
.ใใ. ใโหใ. you keep a single golden coin in your pocket, that you never spend. itโs a superstition from your grandparents, itโs supposed to bring you luck
shifting to the Hunger Games universe as a competitor doesnโt have to mean subjecting yourself to violence, trauma, or the emotional weight of the Games. by scripting safeguards that keep you safe, adjusting the challenges to be more about skill and intelligence than bloodshed, and adjusting the world just enough that the Capitol isnโt a crushing force, you can enjoy the thrill of the Hunger Games without all of the stress
so go ahead, shift into the arena, and compete in the the Gamesโon your terms. youโre the one holding the script, after all. happy shifting :^)
#shifting motivation#reality shifting#shiftblr#shifting antis dni#shifting blog#shifters#shifting script#shifting#shifting community#shifting realities#shiftinconsciousness#shift#shifting consciousness#shifting diary#shiftingrealities#hunger games shifting#hunger games dr#hunger games shifter#hunger games desired reality#shifting to the hunger games#the hunger games dr#the hunger games shifting#the hunger games shifter#the hunger games desired reality
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scripting is limitless and itโs my dr so yes, my aunt does keep a bunch of stray herding dogs and yes I do get to hang out with them
#แจโ#โ โธโธ ๐๐๐ก๐ฅโ๐ฌ ๐๐ข๐๐ซ๐ฒ โ๏ธ#shifting antis dni#desired reality#shifting reality#shiftblr#shifting blog#shifting realities#reality shifting#hunger games shifting#hunger games dr#thg shifting#thg dr#shifting community
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april is my month yโall
better be ready because I WILL SHIFT ๐
#i want to shift to my hunger games dr sooo bad#reality shifting#shifting#desired reality#shifting community#quantum jumping#reality shifter#shifting realities
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I scripted Gale Hawthorne out of my Hunger Games dr because I just hate him so much. The Prim Reaper will not participate in my manic pixie dream world.
#reality shifting#shiftblr#shifting#shiftinconsciousness#shifttok#desired reality#reality shift#shifting community#shifters#the hunger games#hunger games#prim reaper
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๐๐ ๐๐๐ค ๐๐ ๐น๐๐ค๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐ฃ๐๐ ๐ค ๐ธ๐ฃ๐ ๐ฆ๐๐ ~ 1
๐ฃ๐ฑ๐ฎ ๐๐ต๐ฌ๐ฑ๐ฎ๐ถ๐ ~ ๐ฃ๐ช๐๐ต๐ธ๐ป ๐ข๐๐ฒ๐ฏ๐ฝ ๐๐ฝ๐พ๐ ๐๐ธ๐๐๐ถ๐๐พ๐ ๐๐๐๐๐น ๐ท๐ ๐๐๐ถ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐น ๐ป๐๐ ๐น๐ถ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ป ๐๐
๐๐ฝ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐พ๐๐๐พ๐ป๐พ๐ธ๐ถ๐๐ ๐๐๐ฝ๐๐ ๐๐พ๐ ๐ถ๐๐ถ๐๐น๐. ๐ผ๐๐ถ๐๐พ๐๐ ๐พ๐ ๐๐พ๐๐น ๐๐ป ๐๐พ๐๐ ๐ถ๐ ๐๐น๐พ๐, ๐๐ฝ๐๐๐ ๐๐ฝ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ถ๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐ฝ๐๐พ๐ ๐๐ถ๐๐ ๐พ๐ ๐ธ๐ถ๐๐๐๐น ๐๐ฝ๐ ๐ป๐พ๐๐๐ ๐
๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ฝ๐ถ๐ ๐พ๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐น ๐ถ๐ ๐พ๐ ๐๐ฝ๐ถ๐ ๐
๐๐๐๐๐, ๐ฝ๐๐ ๐๐ฝ๐ถ๐'๐ ๐๐ฝ๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐
๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ฝ๐ ๐๐ถ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐พ๐ ๐๐ฝ๐ถ๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐ท๐๐ธ๐ถ๐๐๐ ๐๐ป ๐ฝ๐๐ ๐
๐๐๐๐น ๐๐ฝ๐ ๐
๐๐๐๐๐ ๐พ๐.
๐๐๐จ๐๐ ~ ๐๐ช๐ซ๐ป๐ฒ๐ฎ๐ต๐ต๐ช ๐๐ฎ๐ฎ ๐๐ฝ๐พ๐ ๐๐ธ๐๐๐ถ๐๐พ๐ ๐๐๐๐๐น ๐ท๐ ๐๐๐ถ๐๐๐ ๐ธ๐๐๐ ๐ท๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐ถ๐๐น ๐๐๐๐ ๐ท๐๐๐ ๐ป๐๐พ๐๐๐น ๐พ๐ ๐๐ฉ๐ด ๐๐
๐๐๐
๐๐ธ๐พ๐ถ๐๐๐ ๐พ๐ป ๐๐ฝ๐๐๐'๐ ๐ถ ๐๐๐๐๐ฝ ๐
๐ถ๐๐ธ๐ฝ ๐ท๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐, ๐ท๐๐ธ๐ถ๐๐๐ ๐ผ ๐๐๐๐ ๐
๐๐๐๐๐๐ถ๐๐๐ ๐ผ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐ถ๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐
'๐ ๐ถ๐ ๐๐๐ถ๐๐พ๐๐๐พ๐ธ ๐ถ๐ ๐
๐๐๐๐พ๐ท๐๐. ๐ฏ๐ฝ๐พ๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐ท๐๐พ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐ธ๐ฝ ๐๐๐๐๐พ๐๐ ๐ถ๐๐น ๐๐ฝ๐พ๐๐๐พ๐๐ ๐๐ป ๐ถ ๐๐ถ๐ ๐๐ ๐พ๐๐ธ๐๐๐
๐๐๐ถ๐๐ ๐พ๐ ๐พ๐๐๐ ๐ถ ๐๐ธ๐๐๐ถ๐๐พ๐ ๐๐๐๐๐น ๐ท๐ ๐๐๐ถ๐๐๐ ๐ธ๐๐๐
๐๐ป๐ช๐ท๐ฌ๐ฎ๐ผ๐ฌ๐ช ~ ๐๐ธ๐๐ฒ๐ฎ๐ป ๐ผ๐ป ๐ถ๐๐ ๐๐ป ๐๐๐ ๐ฝ๐ถ๐๐ ๐ฝ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ถ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ธ ๐๐
'๐ ๐๐ฝ๐พ๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐น ๐ท๐ ๐๐๐๐ต๐ผ๐ฉ๐ข ๐๐ ๐ท๐ถ๐๐ ๐ถ ๐๐ธ๐๐๐ถ๐๐พ๐ ๐ถ๐๐๐๐๐น ๐ธ๐ฎ๐ซ๐ธ๐๐ผ๐๐ฟ๐ฟ๐ด ๐พ๐ป ๐๐๐ ๐ฝ๐ถ๐๐ ๐ถ ๐๐๐๐๐๐ถ๐๐ ๐๐๐
๐ ๐๐ป ๐๐๐๐ถ๐๐พ๐๐๐๐ฝ๐พ๐
๐๐พ๐๐ฝ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐พ๐๐๐พ๐ป๐พ๐ธ๐ถ๐๐ ๐๐๐ฝ๐๐. ๐ช๐
๐พ๐ป ๐๐๐ ๐ฝ๐ถ๐๐ ๐ถ ๐ป๐๐๐๐ถ๐๐๐ ๐๐
๐ถ๐๐น ๐๐๐ ๐น๐๐ธ๐พ๐น๐ ๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐ฝ๐๐๐๐๐ฝ ๐๐ฝ๐ ๐ท๐ถ๐๐๐๐ ๐ช๐ป ๐ป๐๐๐๐ถ๐๐๐, ๐๐ฝ๐พ๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐น ๐ถ๐๐๐ ๐ท๐ ๐ถ๐ ๐ถ๐๐ถ๐๐พ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐ท๐ถ๐๐ ๐ถ ๐๐ธ๐๐๐ถ๐๐พ๐ ๐ถ๐๐๐๐๐น
๐๐ค๐๐๐ก๐๐ ๐๏ฟฝ๏ฟฝ๐๐จ ~ ๐ฆ๐ช๐ฝ๐ฎ๐ป๐น๐ช๐ป๐ด๐ผ ๐๐ฝ๐พ๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐น ๐ท๐ ๐ถ ๐๐๐๐น ๐๐ถ๐ ๐๐ ๐ท๐ถ๐๐ ๐ถ ๐๐ธ๐๐๐ถ๐๐พ๐ ๐ถ๐ท๐๐๐ ๐๐ฝ๐ ๐ป๐๐พ๐๐๐ถ๐๐พ๐๐๐ ๐
๐๐๐พ๐๐น ๐พ๐ ๐๐ฝ๐ ๐๐๐๐๐พ๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐ถ๐๐ธ ๐๐ป ๐ถ ๐๐๐๐ถ๐๐พ๐๐๐๐ฝ๐พ๐
, ๐๐ ๐๐ถ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ฝ๐ถ๐ ๐๐
๐๐๐ ๐ฝ๐ถ๐๐, ๐๐๐
๐๐ธ๐พ๐ถ๐๐๐ ๐๐ฝ๐ ๐๐๐๐พ๐ธ "๐พ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐น๐๐พ๐๐ ๐๐พ๐๐ฝ ๐พ๐ ๐๐ ๐ท๐ ๐ท๐ถ๐
๐๐พ๐๐๐น ๐พ๐ ๐๐ ๐๐
๐พ๐" ๐พ๐ป ๐๐๐ ๐๐ถ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ธ๐๐๐ถ๐๐พ๐ ๐๐ ๐ท๐ ๐ถ ๐๐พ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ถ๐๐ธ๐.
๐๐ธ๐ผ๐ผ๐ต๐๐ท ~ ๐๐ต๐ฒ๐ฟ๐ฒ๐ช ๐'๐๐ป๐ฒ๐ฎ๐ท ๐๐ฝ๐พ๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐น ๐ท๐ ๐๐๐๐ต๐ผ๐ฉ๐ข ๐พ๐ ๐ถ๐๐ ๐๐
๐ป๐๐ ๐ถ ๐๐ธ๐๐๐ถ๐๐พ๐ ๐ถ๐ท๐๐๐ ๐ถ ๐๐พ๐๐๐ถ๐๐พ๐๐๐๐ฝ๐พ๐
๐๐พ๐๐ฝ ๐ถ ๐น๐พ๐๐๐ท๐ถ๐ ๐๐๐, ๐ท๐๐ธ๐ถ๐๐๐ ๐ผ ๐๐๐๐ ๐พ๐ป ๐๐๐'๐๐ ๐๐พ๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ฝ๐ ๐น๐๐ถ๐๐ถ. ๐ป๐๐
๐๐ป๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ฝ๐ ๐๐๐ ๐พ๐ ๐ถ๐ ๐๐๐ถ๐๐ ๐ถ ๐๐พ๐๐๐๐ ๐ท๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ฝ๐ถ๐ ๐ฟ๐๐๐ถ๐ ๐ซ๐ถ๐๐ ๐๐ฝ๐๐๐๐ฝ.
๐ผ๐ป ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐'๐ ๐๐พ๐๐ ๐๐ฝ๐๐๐ ๐ถ๐๐น ๐๐๐๐๐น ๐๐พ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐ซ๐ฟ๐ธ๐๐ฎ๐ธ ๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐ผ ๐ฝ๐ถ๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐ถ๐๐ ๐๐๐ฝ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐, ๐ถ๐๐น ๐ผ ๐ถ๐ท๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐ท๐ถ๐๐พ๐๐ ๐๐ธ๐๐๐ถ๐๐พ๐๐ ๐๐ป๐ป ๐๐๐๐พ๐ธ ๐๐ ๐ผ ๐น๐ ๐๐ฝ๐พ๐ ๐ถ ๐๐๐. ๐ป๐ถ๐
๐
๐ ๐๐ฝ๐พ๐ป๐๐พ๐๐!
~๐๐ป๐ฎ๐ต๐ช๐ท๐ญ
#shiftok#shifting realities#shifting motivation#shifting community#shifting antis dni#shifting#shifters#reality shifter#shiftblr#hogwarts dr#harry potter dr#hogwarts shifting#harry potter shifting#shifting to harry potter#shifting to hogwarts#fame desired reality#desired reality#fame dr#hunger games dr#kpop desired reality#kpop shifting
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Hi, Iโm a new-ish in the world of reality shifting. You can call me โBeeโ or whatever if you want. Im here to have fun and make stories end less sad. I also have zero idea how to use Tumblr, so please bear with me. Let me know if youโre going to one of the same realities as me, so we can chat :) or if you just want to chat in general. I edit this every once in a while
List of my DRs:
Pixie Hollow
Hunter x Hunter
Kingdom Hearts
Land of the Lustrous
Soul Eater
The Boys
Animorphs
Teen Titans
Stardew Valley
Naruto
The Hunger Games
Hogwarts
Dragon Age (Warden Edition)
Dragon Age (Inquisitor Edition)
Skyrim
HTTYD
Pokรฉmon
Spider-verse
Demon Slayer
Viva Piรฑata
Vampire The Masquerade Bloodlines
Sometimes I like to go to fucked up DRs so I can change the story so that itโs more on the sweet side. Iโll probably change this list a lot, adding more places I want to shift to. Iโm going to Land of the Lustrous a bunch, I love it there. Ask me anything you want
#shiftblr#shifting realities#reality shifting#introductory post#Pixie Hollow reality shifting#Land of the lustrous reality shifting#kingdom hearts school reality shifting#Soul eater reality shifting#the boys reality shifting#animorphs reality shifting#teen titans#teen titans reality shifting#Stardew Valley Reality Shifting#Naruto reality shifting#The hunger games reality shifting#Hogwarts DR#Harry Potter Reality Shifting#CottenBeeshifting#Dragon age reality shifting#Skyrim reality shifting#Pokรฉmon reality shifting#httyd reality shifting#spiderverse reality shifting#demon slayer reality shifting#shifting blog#shifting#shifting community#desired reality#Viva piรฑata reality shifting#viva pinata reality shifting
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trying to figure out how to shift to tbosbas without, yk, the horrors
#tbosas#tbosbas#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#sejanus plinth#shifting#reality shifting#desired reality#the hunger games#thg#the hunger games shifting#tbosas shifting
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Alright decided to script Finnick Odair in my New York DR (which is just a normal dr where I have the opportunity and the resources to move to New York in 2025 and live and study there).
Obviously Iโll script out his trauma, but gonna keep his personality the same.
(down bad)
#fanfic#x reader#shifting#shifting realities#reality shifting#desired reality#shifting reality#finnick odair fanfic#finnick x you#finnick x reader#finnick odair x reader#hunger games finnick#finnick odair fluff#finnick odair
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๐ ๐๐๐ฒ ๐ข๐ง ๐ฆ๐ฒ ๐ก๐ ๐๐ซ.

๐๐๐ฌ๐ข๐ซ๐๐ ๐ซ๐๐๐ฅ๐ข๐ญ๐ข๐๐ฌ ๐ฆ๐๐ฌ๐ญ๐๐ซ ๐ฅ๐ข๐ฌ๐ญ. ๐ฆ๐ฒ ๐ก๐ฎ๐ง๐ ๐๐ซ ๐ ๐๐ฆ๐๐ฌ ๐๐ซ. แฐ.แ








โ ๐ฅ๐ข๐๐ ๐ข๐ง ๐๐ข๐ฌ๐ญ๐ซ๐ข๐๐ญ ๐๐.
Usually I wake up around 8 am. My neighbor Noah is usually out in his backyard by then practicing with his sword. Iโll head over for a bit and sit with him and talk. Heโll occasionally force me to practice with him, no matter how much I refuse. Afterwards I have breakfast with my family. My sister, Mabel, collects eggs from the chickens and my twin brother, Asher, milks the cow. After breakfast I usually go out and water the plants. We have a few flower pots for decor and then raised garden beds that have genuine crops in them. If itโs the weekend Iโll then go over to Noahโs house and weโll go to the lake. Sometimes he brings his siblings, sometimes I bring mine or we bring our friends/old schoolmates.
If itโs a weekday my father and I take patients from across d-10 and occasionally d-11. Usually we donโt take money as payment but if people offer food or material items we accept. If itโs a Thursday we go into the town and visit patients as well as stock up on groceries.
After seeing patients we return home and I usually sit down to do some of my hobbies which can be crocheting, embroidery, jewelry making, or pottery. A lot of the stuff around my house is homemade and I also sell some of my stuff at the market.
Next I have dinner which is important to my dad and he dubs it a โfamily thing.โ So Asherโs cutting up vegetables and Mabelโs setting the table as Dad cooks or something. Usually my dad or I cook cuz Mabelโs scared of the stove and Asher canโt be trusted around fire in the house.
Then after dinner I gossip with my sister and brother about their days, about Mabelโs crush or Asherโs latest escapade. (heโs a trouble maker.) After I send my letters to my friends in the other districts, journal, or read from my books. Iโm excited to see what Panem literature is like and look in my history books! Sometimes Iโm packing after dinner because I travel the districts (with the capitolโs permission) to see Finn or Haymitch. Then I get to curl up with my cat and got to sleep!

โ ๐จ๐ญ๐ก๐๐ซ ๐ฌ๐ญ๐ฎ๐๐ ๐ข๐ง ๐๐ข๐ฌ๐ญ๐ซ๐ข๐๐ญ ๐๐.
Sometimes I visit my extended family which live in the ranching sector and nowhere near the victorโs village. When we visit we tend to visit for a while, typically around the harvest !! We have a massive family (i will make a post, trust.) and weโre very big on family so we have massive dinners together with all the extended family.
My different cousins drag me around and show me new stuff around the houses. And talk my ear off about everything happening with them. It occasionally gets isolating in the victor village.
On some occasions I visit my mentor Brie. We usually have tea and discuss whateverโs on our minds or whatโs going on with the other districts. She also has a kid and a wife so we all interact.

#แจโ#โ โธโธ ๐๐๐ก๐ฅโ๐ฌ ๐๐ซ๐ฌ เญญ ห .#hunger games dr#reality shifting#shifting community#shiftblr#desired reality#shifting blog#shifting antis dni#shifting realities#shifters#reality shifter#shifting reality#shifting motivation#reality shift#shift#thg shifting#thg dr#hunger games shifter#dr rambles#dr scrapbook
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ughhh i finally created the hunger games dr it's gonna be FUNNNN
#im gonna be traumatised#finnick odair hell yes#the hunger games#i think that this is not a good idea#BUT HELL YES LETS GO#i love my life as a shifter#i need to start writing ff based on my drs#reality shifting#shifting#desired reality#quantum jumping#reality shifter#shifting community#shifting realities
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I figured since Iโm shifting to my Hunger Games dr in a bit that I would talk about my family.
My mother is named Aphrodite and she runs an apothecary business with Mrs Everdeen as our main source of income. She has pale blonde and wavy hair that she usually keeps up in a messy bun. She also has golden amber eyes that I inherited. Sheโs very sweet, and very beautiful (almost like her name wOaH) She has always been best friends with Mrs Everdeen since childhood and this is how I became best friends with Katniss. We are basically childhood friends.
My little sister is named Eros. Sheโs 12 so sheโs Primโs age and also best friends with Prim as well. Sheโs very lively and extroverted, and is good at bringing Prim out of her shell. She looks like our mom besides having our fatherโs blue eyes. She loves to sing and often sings with me at the Hob to earn extra money. Think about Maude Ivory when you think of Eros.
My father was a miner, and got killed in the same mine explosion that killed the Everdeenโs father. He had strawberry blonde hair that I inherited and blue eyes. He was a kind soul and loved to play games with me, and little Eros even when he came home from the mines very tired and worn out. He loved to kiss our mother and call her beautiful any time he had, and would watch and encourage the little shows I would put on for him. He would always say that I brought light into a world filled with dark.
Then thereโs me, Cupid. Iโm 16 and have strawberry blonde hair and golden amber eyes. I love to sing and like I said earlier, love to sing at the Hob with my sister to earn extra money. My MBTI is ENFJ, and I can tend to be flirtatious.
And there you go! I hope you enjoyed reading about my family, because I love them all to bits. If you want to hear anything more about my DR PLEASE send in an ask because I love to answer them. Thank you ๐๐๐
#reality shifting#shiftblr#shifting#shifting community#desired reality#shifters#reality shift#shiftinconsciousness#shifttok#shifting realities#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#the hunger games#thg series#thg
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Hunger Games DR
Basically in this DR I'm gonna be the youngest victor of the Hunger Games ever (at age 12, I decided this to purely one up Finnick, I am that petty), obvious warnings for death being mentioned and mentions of basically any topics mentioned in the books as I'm shifting to a book accurate version of the universe.
Basic information
Name: Elyxir Callisto Fay (Ely, Elyx)
Birthday: 09/17/59 (for context the first year of the hunger games is year 1, this is a result of me being lazy as shit and not wanting to work out an appropriate time in the future, so using our time it's probably along the lines of 09/17/2359 or something)
Sexuality: Lesbian
Pronouns: They/she
Age when I first shift: 9 (yes there is a reason)
Home District: District 1
Faceclaim: I look mostly like myself in this reality except my hair is a touch lighter and is longer and slightly wavy plus blue eyes
Important people in my DR (friends, family, mentors):
Family: [Motherโs Name]
Citrine Fay
[Motherโs Age]
44
[Motherโs Occupation]
Perfumer
[Fatherโs Name]
Brilliance Fay
[Fatherโs Age]
44
[Fatherโs Occupation]
Craftsperson
[Sisterโs Name]
Gallica Fay (Alli)
[Sisterโs Age]
15
[Brotherโs Name]
Luncan Fay (Lun)
[Brotherโs Age]
14
[Brotherโs Name]
Secret Fay (Ret)
[Brotherโs Age]
13
[Sisterโs Name]
Selenite Fay (Leni)
[Sisterโs Age]
12
[Sisterโs Name]
Macaroon Fay (Carrie)
[Sisterโs Age]
11
[Brotherโs Name]
Velvet Fay (Vel)
[Brotherโs Age]
10
[Sisterโs Name]
Vivid Fay (Vivi)
[Sisterโs Age]
10
All of my siblings also attend the training academy
Friends: Glimmer, her birthday is 7/27/58 (I don't have an image to show what she looks like in my mind as I'm going for how I imagined her in the books cause I thought she'd be cool and I'm super gay, she doens't die in her games either, cause she's the solo winner cause I decided Peeta will win the 73rd and then the 75th quell twist is the same but cause of rules Katniss ends up in the 75th but I have her role as mockingjay)
I also befriend Johanna and Finnick after my games, again going for book accuracy, I don't have the energy to search for a picture
Mentors:
Cashmere and Gloss. They're Glimmer's cousins in my DR, Cashmere won her games at 15 and Gloss won his at 16. I actually found pictures that more or less look like I pictured them so that's good.


My games:
My games are the 72nd Hunger Games, the other tributes in the game are as followed
Prince, 17, D1
Calista, 17, D2
Orion, 18, D2
Chip, 15, D3
Dell, 16, D3
Brooke, 15, D4
Dylan, 17, D4
Lunar, 16, D5
Dean, 15, D5
Elaine, 13, D6
Aaron, 12, D6
Hazel, 18, D7
Jude, 13, D7
Camisole, 16, D8
Sterling, 14, D8
Adalina, 15, D9
Herman, 18, D9
Bessie, 17, D10
Kobe, 17, D10
Autumn, 18, D11
Fraser, 16, D11
Ivy, 18, D12
Jett, 16, D12
I won't write every small detail of my games as there's a lot but I'll add some pictures that'll look like parts of the arena
The arena is like a magical otherworld, there are unicorns in the arena, they attack anyone that appears to be a threat to them, so typically older tributes.
Before all of that though, basically I tested into the academy early and so I'd been at the academy since I was like 5 so I was already planning to volunteer that year but it turns out Glimmer was reaped so I had an even better reason which helped play into my character I put on for the games, confident that I'll do really well for someone my age not that I'd necessarily win but that I'd be able to hold my own, someone that would do anything to protect people she cares about, capitol audiences really loved that.
Glimmer and I are the district 1 tributes that get sent into the Quater Quell, they change the rules even further to allow for two previous victors of the same gender to be chosen for the quell.
I'll probably add more stuff to this anyway
#Hunger Games DR#reality shifting#reality shifter#shiftblr#shifting#desired reality#shifters#shifting community
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11 MILLION
reblog if your name isn't Amanda.
2,121,566 people are notย Amanda and counting!
Weโll find you Amanda.
#her story#youtube#nimona#the hunger games#everlark#across the spiderverse#age/knowledge/consent/desire#katniss everdeen#desired reality#thg#heritage post
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#realityshifting#desired reality#cr#dr#shifting#shifting reality#current reality#reality shift#reality shifter#reality shifting#fame dr#fame desired reality#Shifting to pjo#Pjo DR#Tcd DR#Hunger games#Maurauders
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Hunger Games IR
The cold, sterile walls of District 13'sย underground bunker seemed to close in on me as I go about my daily routine. Life in the rebellion has its own set of struggles, but the constant threat of President Snow and the Hunger Games looms over every member of District 13, casting a shadow of fear and uncertainty.ย
I sit alone in my cramped quarters, my thoughts swirling with discontentment and frustration. Iโve always felt like a misfit, someone who doesnโt belong in the confines of this hidden society. District 13'sย underground existence has never sat well with me. From a young age, I had longed for the freedom and open skies of the world above. But now, my defiance has brought me face to face with a terrifying reality.ย
I grab my friend Lily to climb above surface. What I normally do on these boring days.ย
The desolate landscape of District 13 stretches before me as I walk through the remnants of what once was. Years of rubble and destruction surrounding me, a testament to the horrors of the past. I was above ground, relishing the rare moments of freedom and solitude that the surface provides.ย
One of my friends, Lily, approaches her with concern etched on me face. โAvery, you should get back underground,โ she urges, her voice laced with worry. โSomeone from District 12 might see you. Itโs not safe!โย
I wave off Lilyโs concern dismissively. โOh, come on,โ I reply with a hint of defiance. โNo oneโs going to see me out here. Besides, Iโm just bored and want a change of scenery.โย
As we continue our conversation, a distant rumble fills the air, growing louder and more ominous. My heart quickens, and a sense of unease settles over me. I turn to Lily, my eyes widening with apprehension. โWhat is that?โ I ask, my voice tinged with worry.ย
Lilyโs face pales as she points to the sky. โLook!โ she exclaims, her voice trembling. โAn aircraft! We need to get underground now!โย
It was lowering fast, too.ย
My heart pounds in my chest as I realize the danger weโre in. Without hesitation, I begin to move towards the nearest entrance, my instincts kicking into overdrive, but before I can reach the entrance, someone grabs my arm, stopping me in my tracks. My heart pounds in my chest as I turn to face my captor, only to find myself staring into the eyes ofย HaymitchAbernathy.ย
โWhat do you think youโre doing, wandering out here?โย Haymitch'sย voice is gruff, his grip firm on my arm.ย
My eyes widen in surprise and confusion. โHaymitch? What are you doing here?โ I stammer, my mind racing to make sense of the situation.ย
Haymitch's gaze flickers to someone standing beside him, and my breath catches in my throat. Itโs Effie Trinket, her flamboyant appearance a stark contrast to the desolate surroundings. The realization sinks in, filling my heart with dread. โWell this canโt be good.โย
Effie steps forward, her voice filled with sympathy. โAveryย MacKenzie, Iโm so sorry,โ she says, her voice almost quivering. โBut youโve been reaped for the 77th Hunger Games.โย
My world spins into chaos. The ground beneath me seems to give way, and I struggle to find my footing midst the overwhelming news. This canโt be happening, not to me. Iโm safe. Iโm in Distract 13. We donโt compete in the games. So whatโs changed?ย
โWhat? Youโre fucking with me.โ I say and Effie makes a face.ย
โExcuse me?โ She says, appalled.ย
โIโm just saying. I live in District 13, weโre not apart of the Games anymore. Itโs why our District looks like this,โ I gesture to the ruble surrounding us before continuing to say, โIโm not going.โ shaking my head.ย
โUm, you have to, kid.โย Haymitchย says. โif you donโt, President Snow is going to kill you and everyone you love.โย
โYeah andย youย sound like youโre from a book right now.โย
โAndย youย are on thin ice with the Capitol. Choose.โ He spits back.ย
โThis is absurd! I live in District-โย
โ13 yeah yeah we got it, sweetheart. Youโre coming with us.โย
โYouโre giving me no choice?โ I argue.ย
โYouย haveย no choice.โ Effie interjects.ย
My heart races ans I stand at the threshold of the aircraft that would transport me to wherever theyโre ordered to take me. I turn to my friend Lily, my voice filled with emotion.ย
โLily, I need you to do something for me,โ I say, my voice quivering. โSay goodbye to my parents and everyone else for me. Obviously I canโt do it myself or I would.โย
I watch as her eyes fill with tears as she says โOf course, Avery,โ her voice trembling. โIโll make sure they know.โย
I manage to give her a faint smile, gratitude mingling with sorrow. I knew that Lily would be the bearer of my final farewells. I turn to face the aircraft and steel myself for the difficult journey ahead.ย
As I board the plane, Effie stands nearby, her vibrant appearance a stark contrast to the somber mood that hangs in the air. She approaches me. โAvery, weโre going to disguise you as someone from District Four,โ she explains. โItโs crucial that your true identity remains hidden. The Capitol mustnโt suspect any ties to District 13.โย
I nod, my heart pounding in my chest. I understand the risk and the importance of maintaining my cover. The Capitolโs prying eyes are everywhere, and any hint of my true origins could jeopardize not only my life but the lives of everyone within District 13.ย
Effie continues, โYour mentor in the Capitol will beย Finnickย Odair,โ she reveals and her gaze meets mine. โHeโs a previous victor of the-โย
โYeah I know.โ I interrupt her. I know whoย Finnickย Odairย is. Everyone knows whoย Finnickย Odairย is.ย
โWell good! I wonโt have to introduce you two as in depth as I thought I would. Heโll be instrumental in helping you navigate everythingโฆwell water.โย
โYeah, I figured.โ I scoff, rolling my eyes. Heโs a pretentious asshole, Iโd rather have anyone else beside him. Iโve heard tales of his charisma and strength, of the battles he has fought both in the arena and against the Capitol. The prospect of being mentored by someone with such an attitude fills me with complete dread and annoyance. โHate him.โย
โWell itโs not as though you can do much about it.โ She says, gently and hesitantly patting my shoulder. The journey to District 12 is a somber one, the aircraft slicing through the sky with a sense of urgency. As they touch down, my heart quickens, the reality of the Capitolโs grasp onย Panemย becoming all too real. I glance atย Haymitchย whoโs weathered face is already deep in a bottle of rum. I canโt even believe heโs drinking this high up in the air.ย
Effie andย Haymitchย lead me towards the shuttle train that will transport us all to the Capitol, where the cruel spectacle of the Hunger Games awaited. My heart flutters with dread. Iโm stepping into the lionโs den, but I refuse to be devoured.ย
As the trainโs doors close behind us, I prepare myself for the journey ahead. The Capitol looms on the horizon, itโs glimmering facade hiding the darkness that lay beneath. As the shuttle train begins its journey, I gaze out the window, the desolate landscape of District 12 fading from view. The Capitol awaits, and with it, the 77th Hunger Games.ย
~~~~
The sun casts a golden hue over the bustling square of District Four as the Reaping day arrives. A sense of trepidation hangs in the air, mingling with the salty breeze that wafts in from the nearby coastline. I stand among the crowd of potential tributes, my heart pounding in my chest.
As Effie takes the stage, her attire drawing eyes, a hush falls over the square. She clears her throat, her voice amplified by the microphone.
โLadies and gentlemen, it is time for the Reaping of the 77th Hunger Games!โ
The crowd holds its breath, their gazes fixed on Effie as she reaches into the glass bowl containing the names of the female tributes. I know Iโm going to be picked, but my mind still races anyway. Effieโs hand emerges, holding a slip of paper. My name. She unfolds it, her painted lips parting to reveal the name that will seal someoneโs fate. My fate.
โAveryย MacKenzie!โ
Time seems to freeze as those words hang in the air. The crowd erupts into a mix of gasps and murmurs, their eyes darting to mine. Deep inside, I know that my true identity is safe, but the weight of it presses heavily on my shoulders.
With my heart pounding heavily in my ears, I step forward, my face a mask of calm determination. Effie beams, trying to act as though sheโs meeting me for the first time. She extends her hand towards me, and I meet it with compliance. I hold my breath as I stand on the precipice of the Hunger Games.
Effieโs eyes flicker briefly, a silent acknowledgment passing between us, playing her part flawlessly.
โAnd now, for the boys,โ Effie declares, her voice regaining its cheerful tone. She reaches into the other glass bowl, her hand emerging with a slip of paper. She unfolds it, her voice carrying across the square. โAllioย Lark!โ
A young boy steps forward, his eyes wide. My heart aches for him, knowing the cruel fate that awaits us both. Effie guidesย Allioย towards the stage, her grip firm yet gentle. As we stand side by side, Effie offers a reassuring smile. I glance back briefly, catching a glimpse of District Fourโs residents, their faces mixes of hope and fear. I canโt risk exposing my true origins, but I carry the weight of District Thirteen on my shoulders.
#writers on tumblr#finnick odair#the hunger games#shifting community#desired reality#reality shifting#hunger games#thg series
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Theyโre not heroes. Theyโre your tormentors, and youโll love every second of it.
โค๏ธ Synopsis. Four men, each consumed by a darkness that binds them to you, will stop at nothing to claim your soul. In their world, love is a twisted cage, and youโre the captiveโlost in a nightmare where escape is impossible and desire is the cruelest torment.
โก Book. Forbidden Fruits: Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires.
โก Pairing. Yandere! Mr. Reca x Fem. Reader, Yandere! Mydei x Fem. Reader, Yandere! Anaxa x Fem. Reader, Yandere! Phainon x Fem. Reader
โก Headcanons. The Game of Surrender - Part 2
โก Word Count. 4,326
โก TW. dom + top + older + slightly sadistic yandere, general non-con + manipulation, suggestive themes, psychological + mental conditioning, fear play, emotional manipulation and abuse, hints at rough play and sex, psychological + emotional trauma, isolation, monitoring, lack of boundaries, non-con kissing and/or touching, forced relationship, BDSM, manipulation of circumstances, threats, Stockholm Syndrome
โก Note. This was made before the official releases of characters, so be warned that some information may be inaccurate once additional lore comes out.
โก Mr. Reca.
"Every thought you have, every breath you take, is a scene in my filmโmy masterpiece. And don't worry, darling, I'll make sure you never forget your lines. Not even when you're screaming them in your sleep."
The universe had always been a canvas to himโa vast, writhing tapestry of chaos and order, the kind of unpredictable beauty that Mr. Reca found utterly magnetic. He had always been a collector of moments, a Memokeeper who consumed emotions, gestures, and unguarded thoughts with the same fervor a drowning man gulps air.
But youโoh, youโyou were not just another fleeting spark in the vast night of existence.
You were an anomaly, a glitch in the dreamscape, a hauntingly real smear of imperfection across his perfectly constructed illusions. And so, he watched you, studied you, devoured the fragile lines of your every expression. It wasnโt obsession, not at first. It was curiosity, a scientistโs hunger for understanding. But curiosity, as it often does, rotted into something far darker.
It began subtly. At first, you didnโt even realize you were his subject. The assistant frogโso innocuous, its mechanical chirps like a childโs toyโhovered too long in your presence. That thing recorded the barest twitch of your lips, the dilation of your pupils when you dreamt, the cadence of your breath when you were lost in thought.
He played those recordings back again and again, crafting you into the centerpiece of his mindโs latest film, a work of art that no audience but him would ever see. Each flicker of your gaze, each half-whispered syllable, was dissected with a surgeonโs precision and woven into the dream bubble of his fantasies.
You had not agreed to this, of course. You would not have, had you known. But consent had never mattered much to Mr. Reca, not when reality itself could be edited, overwritten, and reshaped to suit his narrative.
He didnโt fall in love with you in the way mortals understood love.
No, it was something far more grotesque. You were not his equal. You were not even human, not to him.
You were a role to be perfected, an actress bound to his script. And heโhe was the director, the puppeteer pulling the strings of your existence with a touch so light, so surgical, that you didnโt notice your autonomy dissolving until it was too late.
He didnโt approach you like an ordinary man. Ordinary men didnโt cloak their words in riddles, their intentions in shadows.
โYour dreams are fascinating,โ he said once, his tone light but his eyes dark, predatory. โI could make a masterpiece from them. Would you let me?โ
His gaze burned into you, not with affection, but with hungerโthe kind of hunger that consumes, destroys, leaves nothing but ash in its wake.
When you hesitated, when you stammered out a polite refusal, his smile curved sharp and cruel. โAh, but do you really have a choice?โ
You didnโt, of course.
The dream bubbles began soon after. Vivid, horrifyingly real landscapes where you were no longer yourself but a marionette dancing to his whims.
The first time you woke screaming, trembling from the phantom pain of dream wounds, he was there. He shouldnโt have beenโyour door had been lockedโbut there he was, sitting on the edge of your bed with his head tilted and that damned frog-camera clutched in his gloved hands.
โFascinating,โ he murmured, as if you were a specimen under glass. โYou feel it, donโt you? The fear, the thrill, the pain. Tell me, how does it taste?โ
In bed, he is not a lover. He is a creator, and you are his medium.
His touch is clinical at first, cold and calculated, his gloved fingers trailing down your spine as if mapping the curve of your body for a sculpture he plans to carve later.
But there is heat beneath that coldness, a violent, consuming fire that erupts when he lets himself indulge. He does not make love. He takes. He presses you into the mattress as if trying to merge you with it, his weight oppressive, suffocating. His hands grip your wrists too tightly, leaving bruises like the ink stains of his artistry. His breath is hot against your ear, his voice a low murmur that mixes poetry with threats, promises with lies.
โDo you feel it?โ he whispers, his tone too calm for the frenzy of his movements. โThe way your body betrays you? The way it obeys me, even when your mind doesnโt want to?โ
His teeth graze the shell of your ear, and the sharp pain that follows is not accidental. โI could keep you here forever,โ he says, his voice thick with sadistic delight. โInside the dream, inside me. Would you even know the difference? Would you even care?โ
You would care, of course.
You fight him, or at least you try. But heโs relentless, unyielding, a force of nature that smothers your resistance with sheer willpower. He doesnโt let you hide from him, not even in the sanctuary of your own mind.
His powers as a Memokeeper ensure that every thought, every secret, every fleeting desire youโve ever tried to bury is laid bare before him. He uses them against you, weaving them into the narrative of his control.
โYou want this,โ he says, his voice a velvet knife. โYou want me. Your body knows it, even if your mind refuses to admit it.โ
His lips trail down your throat, his teeth leaving marks that will linger for days, physical proof of his dominance. โAnd when Iโm done with you, when thereโs nothing left of you but what Iโve created, youโll thank me. Youโll beg me to keep you.โ
The horror of it all is that he doesnโt just break you physically. He breaks your mind, piece by fragile piece, until you can no longer tell where the dream ends and reality begins. His dream bubbles seep into your waking hours, twisting your perception until even the memories of your resistance feel like fabrications.
He tells you that youโre his muse, his masterpiece, his greatest work. And despite the revulsion, the terror, some part of you begins to believe him.
Because how could someone so brilliant, so meticulous, be wrong?
And yet, in the darkest corners of your mind, you know the truth.
You are not his muse.
You are his victim, a living doll trapped in the nightmare of his creation.
But no one will ever hear your screams.
Heโs made sure of that.
After all, reality itself is just another film to him, and heโs already written your final scene.
โก Mydei.
"You belong to me, just as I am bound to this blood-soaked fate. No one will ever take you from me, not in this life, not in the next. Iโll carve my name into your soul, and youโll learn to love it, even if it takes a thousand deaths."
It begins as a hum in the back of his throat, a low vibration that settles into his chest like the resonance of a beast stirring in its lair. He watches you, not from afar, but from the corner of your vision, where his shadow seems to stretch and curve unnaturallyโalways larger, always darker than the dim light allows. His gaze is not mere sight; itโs weight, pressure, suffocation. He sees the tremor in your fingers as you pour water into a glass. He catalogues the way your breaths hitch when his footsteps echo closer, closer still.
And when he speaks, his voice is a razor dragged slowly, deliberately, across raw nerves. โYouโre trembling,โ he says, though thereโs no concern in his tone.
Itโs an observation, clinical yet laced with something sharper, something akin to hunger.
He doesnโt touch you yet, but the proximity is suffocatingโhis presence a noose tightening with every passing second. His breath brushes your ear as he leans closer. โAre you afraid of me?โ
You flinch but say nothing, and he chuckles. Itโs low and guttural, almost amused, but thereโs an edge of cruelty there, a promise that heโll savor every inch of your fear.
He feeds on it, you realize, and the thought sends a chill racing down your spine. โYou should be,โ he murmurs, the words dripping like venom. โFear keeps you aliveโฆ but not from me. Never from me.โ
He lies, of course.
The predator in him is far too obvious, a wolf cloaked in something barely resembling humanity. He doesnโt see you as prey to consume in haste.
No, he sees you as a possessionโa rare, precious thing to break slowly, to shatter and rebuild in his image. He thrives on control, on the knowledge that every shiver, every gasp, every cry is something he owns, something heโs dragged out of you inch by agonizing inch.
When he finally touches you, itโs with the precision of a surgeon dissecting his subject. Fingers glide over your skin like scalpels, drawing phantom lines where his teeth will follow, where his hands will linger. Thereโs no tenderness in the way he grips your wrist, the bruising force of his palm a warning, a declaration.
He doesnโt need to speak for you to understand: youโre his.
The room is suffused with a kind of tension that seems alive, thrumming in the air like an electrical charge waiting to snap. His lips curl into something that might resemble a smile if not for the sheer malice in it.
โYou can fight,โ he says, voice as smooth and cold as glass, โbut we both know how this ends.โ
And then he moves, swift as a predator pouncing, pinning you against the unyielding surface of the wall.
The impact drives the air from your lungs, and before you can catch your breath, heโs thereโeverywhere. The heat of his body seeps into yours, the solidity of him a cage that leaves no room for escape. His hands are firm, unrelenting, roaming with a kind of obsessive thoroughness that feels both maddening and humiliating. He maps every inch of your body as if itโs a territory to be conquered, claimed.
The words he whispers into your ear are sharp, biting things, designed to slice through your defenses. โDo you know how easy it would be?โ he breathes, his voice a silken thread woven with danger.
โTo tear you apart. To ruin you so thoroughly you wouldnโt even recognize yourself. And youโd thank me for it, wouldnโt you? By the time Iโm done, you wonโt want to remember what it felt like to be whole without me.โ
His grip tightens, and you can feel the latent strength in his hands, the power that could snap bone without effort.
And yet he doesnโt.
Not yet.
He revels in the anticipation, in the way your body reactsโfear mingled with something darker, something you refuse to name. The way your breath catches, the way your pulse races beneath his fingersโฆ itโs a symphony to him, a melody of submission heโs determined to conduct to its crescendo.
When he finally takes you, itโs not an act of loveโitโs an act of dominance, of ownership.
His movements are deliberate, almost cruel in their precision, each thrust a reminder of who holds the reins. He doesnโt allow you to close your eyes, doesnโt let you escape into the safety of darkness.
No, he demands your gaze, demands that you see him, that you acknowledge the monster who has reduced you to this trembling, gasping wreck. And when you doโwhen your eyes meet his, wide and glassy with tearsโhe smiles. Not with joy, but with triumph, with the satisfaction of a hunter who has cornered his prey.
His words during these moments are a mix of degradation and adoration, a twisted litany that leaves no doubt of his intentions. โYouโre mine,โ he growls against your skin, the heat of his breath searing like a brand. โEvery breath, every scream, every drop of blood in your veinsโit all belongs to me.โ
And yet, even as he tears you apart, thereโs an undeniable allure in his madness, a magnetic pull that keeps you rooted to the spot even as every instinct screams at you to run.
Because beneath the cruelty, beneath the overwhelming force of his obsession, thereโs a flicker of something moreโa need so desperate it borders on pathetic, a craving for connection that he canโt voice but demands nonetheless.
When itโs over, he doesnโt release you.
His arms remain locked around you, a vice that refuses to loosen. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his breath ragged, his body still trembling with the aftermath.
And in that moment, you realize the truth of it: he doesnโt break you because he hates you. He breaks you because he loves you, because the thought of you existing without him is unbearable.
But love, for him, is not soft or kind. It is a blade, honed to a deadly edge, and he wields it without mercy.
โYouโll stay,โ he whispers, and itโs not a question.
Itโs a command, a promise, a threat.
โYouโll stay because thereโs nowhere else for you to go. No one else who could ever understand you the way I do. And if you try to leaveโฆโ His voice trails off, but the unspoken consequence hangs heavy in the air, a silent vow etched in blood.
You nod, because what else can you do?
And as he tightens his hold on you, his lips brushing against your temple in a mockery of a kiss, you feel the full weight of your reality settle over you.
There is no escape. There never was.
And in the dark recesses of your mind, a small, terrified part of you wonders if youโll ever want to leave at all.
โก Anaxa.
"You think you can escape my mind, but you're already tangled in my thoughtsโyour every breath, every movement, is an echo of me. You belong to me, and I will never let you forget that."
The air around him was always cold, as if reality itself recoiled in his presence, drawing its warmth into the void of his indifference. Anaxa moved like an unfinished thought, fragmented, deliberate, yet ever disquieting.
You felt his shadow linger before you saw him, a chilling weight that settled on your skin like frost, sinking into the marrow of your bones. His eyesโone bared to the world, the other concealed beneath the eyepatchโwere an unforgiving tapestry of contradictions: icy intellect simmering beneath the calm veneer, an endless labyrinth of thoughts that spiraled toward madness.
He whispered your name like a sacrament and a curse. Each syllable, spoken in that low, velvety cadence of his, seemed to unravel you, a knife peeling back every layer of resolve.
"You think knowledge can shield you," he murmured one night, his breath as cold and intimate as the edge of a scalpel. "But even wisdom has limits. Iโve seen them. Iโve transcended them." He would circle you like a predator savoring the hunt, his movements calculated, his proximity suffocating.
Anaxa was not a man who shattered the soul through brute force.
No, his torment was subtleโa slow dismantling, piece by piece, until you became something unrecognizable to even yourself.
You didnโt notice how he had claimed your life until it was too late. The quiet manipulation seeped in like poisonโso gradual, so insidious, you mistook it for safety. Every book you touched, every whisper of thought you dared to express, every step you took outside the prison he called your sanctuaryโฆall of it traced back to him. You'd look up from a page of text only to find him leaning in the doorway, a slight smile curling his lips, the sort that spoke of secrets too profound and too damning to voice.
"You have such a beautiful mind," he'd say, his gloved fingers brushing the side of your neck in a touch that was almost reverent.
"Itโs wasted on anyone else. Theyโll never understand youโnot like I do." The words were honeyed, dripping with a sincerity so intoxicating you almost believed it.
Almost.
Until you noticed the way his gaze lingered on your trembling hands, on the ink smudges on your skin, on the way you recoiled yet stayed rooted in place. He liked the way fear made you fragile, and though you hated him for it, you hated yourself more for the flicker of thrill that bloomed in your chest.
Anaxa didnโt need chains to hold you down; his words alone were shackles. His intelligence was a web, intricate and all-encompassing, and you were the fly ensnared at its center.
"I donโt want to hurt you," he whispered once, late into the night when the room was too quiet and his voice was too close. "But I will, if itโs the only way to make you stay."
And you knew he meant itโnot as a threat, but as a promise, a truth spoken with the same certainty as an immutable law of the universe.
The moments of intimacyโif one could call them thatโwere no less haunting.
His touch was clinical, precise, like a scientist studying a fragile specimen. He knew where to press, where to hold, where to carve into your soul with a calculated cruelty that left you yearning and dreading in equal measure.
His lips on your skin felt like frostbite, burning cold yet addictively sharp. His hands, those hands that wielded intellect like a blade, seemed to map every inch of you with the precision of a scholar dissecting sacred scripture.
"Youโre beautiful," he would say, the words an oxymoron of tenderness and possession.
"Beautiful because youโre broken. Broken because youโre mine." He traced the curve of your throat with a gloved fingertip, lingering on the places where your pulse betrayed your terror.
His gaze bore into you, unrelenting, as though he could peel back the layers of flesh and bone to reach the essence of you. "Do you know what the Titans whispered to me in my dreams?" he asked once, his voice a mix of wonder and madness.
"They said Iโd find divinity in ruin. And here you are."
The nights were the worst.
In the darkness, you felt him even when you didnโt see him.
The weight of his presence pressed against you, suffocating, inescapable. His words would echo in your mind, winding through your thoughts like a parasite. Heโd appear at your bedside, his figure shrouded in the dim glow of moonlight.
"You should sleep," heโd murmur, though his tone carried no warmth. "Youโll need your strength. Tomorrow, weโll unravel the secrets of the cosmos. Together."
And though you tried to resist, you found yourself clinging to the edges of his words, desperate for the clarity he promised, even as it led you deeper into his labyrinth.
When he finally claimed you, it was an act of calculated brutality disguised as love.
Every kiss felt like a conquest, every caress a branding. He whispered to you like a poet reciting his magnum opus, his voice soft yet unyielding, every syllable carrying the weight of his obsession.
"You belong to me," he said, his lips brushing against your ear as his hands pinned you beneath him. "Not just your body. Your mind. Your soul. Everything. No one else is worthyโnot even you."
And as his touch became more demanding, more consuming, you realized that he wasnโt just unraveling you. He was recreating you, piece by piece, reshaping you into something that existed solely for him.
And though every fiber of your being screamed in defiance, a small, treacherous part of you wondered if this was loveโor if it was something far darker, something that transcended the bounds of human understanding.
"Youโll never leave me," he said, his voice a blend of certainty and desperation as his lips ghosted over your trembling skin.
"Even if you try, even if you runโฆIโll always find you. Youโre the only constant in my chaos, the only light in my darkness. And I will burn the stars themselves before I let that light fade."
And so, you lay there in the cold embrace of his obsession, trapped between terror and desire, caught in the orbit of a man who would dismantle the heavens just to keep you by his side.
โก Phainon.
"Every strike I make, every victory I winโitโs all for you. So don't be afraid when you see the blood. It's just a little sacrifice to remind you: you're mine, and I will burn this world to the ground before I let you go."
The moments he craves most are the quiet ones when the two of you are entirely alone, but tonight, silence isnโt kind.
Itโs oppressive, weighted by the looming presence of the man before youโthe Deliverer, the Nameless Hero, a man who wears the name Phainon like an armor of light.
Yet beneath that golden radiance, a storm of obsession churns, relentless and unyielding.
He stands over you, the faint luminescence of his ichor-stained veins pulsing faintly in the dim, cold air of the temple chamber. You can feel his gaze before you see itโheavy, glinting with something raw and unspeakable.
His voice, when it finally breaks the silence, is soft but unshakable, carrying the weight of a promise that makes your blood run cold.
โYou donโt understand, do you? Youโve never understood.โ A smile curls at the edge of his lips, serene yet terrifying. โI donโt want to save the world, not anymore. I want to save you. Every step Iโve taken, every blow Iโve struck, has always been for you.โ
His claymore rests at his side, its edge gleaming faintly with an unsettling crimson, dried remnants of the battle from earlier still clinging to the blade.
He hasnโt cleaned it.
He hasnโt even sheathed it.
The weapon is as much a part of him as the air he breathes.
You canโt help but wonder if the blood that stains it belongs to someone you knew, someone who once stood too close to you for his liking.
He takes a step closer, the sound of his boots against the stone floor echoing like the toll of a funeral bell.
You back away instinctively, but thereโs no escape.
His pace is slow, deliberate. He knows exactly how far he needs to push you before your resolve shatters.
โRun if you want to,โ he murmurs, his tone almost gentle. โI wonโt stop you. But youโll come back. You always do.โ
Thereโs no malice in his words, only certaintyโa chilling, inescapable truth that wraps around your throat like a noose.
His hands are stained too.
Not visibly, not this time, but you can feel it in the way he reaches for you.
Fingers meant for wielding destruction now hover over your cheek, trembling slightly with restraint.
You flinch, and the flicker of hurt that crosses his face is almost humanโalmost.
โYouโre afraid of me,โ he whispers, his breath brushing against your ear as he leans closer.
โAnd I... I hate that. I hate that you make me this way. But I hate it even more when youโre far from me.โ
When his lips press against yours, it isnโt a kissโitโs a conquest.
His desperation seeps into you like venom, intoxicating and suffocating all at once. He tastes like metal and fury, his ichor burning faintly where his tongue grazes yours. His touch isnโt tender; itโs possessive, frantic, like heโs trying to carve his existence into your very bones.
His hand tangles in your hair, tugging hard enough to make you gasp, and the sound only seems to spur him on. โYouโre mine,โ he growls against your lips, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous timbre. โSay it.โ
You donโt.
You canโt.
And thatโs when his patience snaps.
His grip tightens, dragging you against him until thereโs no space left between your bodies. The heat of him is overwhelming, a furnace of ichor and madness that threatens to consume you whole. His other hand presses against the small of your back, forcing you to arch into him as he lowers his head to your neck.
His breath is hot against your skin, and when he speaks again, itโs a guttural rasp that makes your stomach twist. โYou donโt understand how far Iโd go for you. What Iโd destroy. Who Iโd become.โ
He sinks his teeth into the curve of your shoulder, not enough to break the skin but enough to leave a markโa brand, a reminder of his claim. You cry out, and he exhales sharply, almost like heโs savoring the sound.
โThatโs it,โ he murmurs, his voice dripping with satisfaction. โThatโs the truth of it, isnโt it? Youโll scream for me, cry for me... but youโll never leave.โ
And heโs right, isnโt he?
Because even now, as fear and anger coil in your chest like a viper, you canโt bring yourself to push him away.
His presence is suffocating, his obsession terrifyingโbut thereโs something about the way he looks at you, like youโre the sun in a world of endless night, that makes it impossible to resist him entirely.
Itโs sick.
Itโs wrong.
But itโs real.
Phainon knows it too.
He knows you better than you know yourself, and that knowledge is his greatest weapon.
He wields it with precision, unraveling you piece by piece until thereโs nothing left but the parts of you that belong to him.
โYouโll stay,โ he whispers, his lips ghosting over your collarbone. โYouโll always stay. Because no one else can have you. Not the Titans, not the Trailblazer... not even yourself.โ
When he finally pulls away, his eyes lock onto yours, glowing faintly with the golden ichor that courses through his veins. Thereโs something hauntingly beautiful about him in this moment, a tragic god draped in shadows. He tilts his head, studying you like a puzzle heโs just solved.
โYouโre mine,โ he says again, softer this time. โAnd Iโm yours. Whether you like it or not.โ
And you believe him.
โก A/N. Not me not knowing fully who these characters are. So... not sure if I did this right hahaha. It's too early to judge the unreleased characters but oh well. And, I did put this into my usual style... idk adjskaskd Take this like a brief hypothesis, I suppose. I am thinking on getting back to Genshin and HSR... maybe. Probably not though. Idk. Anyways, I personally thought I cooked with this. Just not sure with personalities askadsdakldsm
If you want to be added or removed from the tag list, just comment on the MASTERLIST of Forbidden Fruits (FF): Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires. Thank you.
General TAG LIST of โForbidden Fruitsโ: @uniquecutie-puffs , @belovedoftheanemoarchon , @tnsophiaonly , @mokingbrd78k , @cooldeermagazine , @mimitk , @xileonaaaa , @acacia-koi , @purple-obsidian , @waterfal-ling , @jjune-07 , @jsprien213 , @crimson-kisses , @tinandabin , @sashakittycloud , @songbirdgardensworld , @monamuskay
โค๏ธ Fang Dokja's Books.
โก For Reader-Inserts. I only write Male Yandere x Female (Fem.) Reader (heterosexual couple). No LGBTQ+:
โก Book 1. A Heart Devoured (AHD): A Dark Yandere Anthology
โก Book 2 [you are here]. Forbidden Fruits (FF): Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires.
โก Book 3. World Ablaze (WA) : For You, I'd Burn the World.
โก Book 4. Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows.
โก Book 5. Ink & Insight (I&I): From Dead Dove to Daydreams.
โก Library MASTERPOST 1. The Librarianโs Ledger: A Map to The Library of Forbidden Texts.
โก Notice #1. Not all stories are included in the masterpost due to Tumblrโs link limitations. However, most long-form stories can be found here. If you're searching for a specific yandere or theme, this guide will help you navigate The Library of Forbidden Texts. Proceed with caution
โก Book 6. The Red Ledger (TRL): Stained in Lust, Written in Blood.
โก Notice #2. This masterlist is strictly for non-con smut and serves as an exercise in refining erotic horror writing. Comments that reduce my work to mere sexual gratification, thirst, or casual simping will not be tolerated. If your response is primarily thirst-driven, keep it to yourselfโrepeated violations may result in blocking. Read the RULES before engaging. The tag list is reserved for followers I trust to respect my boundaries; being included is a privilege, not a right. You may request to be added, but I will decide based on trust and adherence to my guidelines. I also reserve the right to remove anyone at any time if their engagement becomes inappropriate.
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