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laughing-with-god · 5 years ago

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Quarter Quell

Request; Yandere Jungkook, Hunger Games Au

Word Count; 11.2k

Every 25 years there is a Quarter Quell edition of the Hunger Games. Quells mark the anniversaries of the districts' defeat by the Capitol, and include special celebrations. The Games involves some sort of twist that makes them even more disastrous or difficult to compete in, or watch.

The pixelated screen depicted a zoomed-in image of a middle aged man, smiling glamorously towards the camera lens as he held the microphone to his face and proceeded to the next segment of the show.

His fake snake-like contacts glimmered as they briefly ran across the cue card. Then he refocused his attention back to the camera; opening his overly plump and artificially enhanced lips to announce-

“Next we have the infamous brute of a man, District Two’s treasure and voted most likely to win; Jeon Jungkook!”

The roars and cheers of the fashionably rich audience reached a deafening climax when they caught sight of the next tribute to waltz onto the stage.

It seemed that District Two had sent yet another beast this year, eager to slaughter and kill those beneath its’ impeccable strength.

His form was evidence to the intense training he had been subjected to, the muscles bulging with capability yet his body being slender enough to hint at agility as well. He was tall and practically towered over the small host as he extended his veiny hand for a handshake. His warrior like body was clad in black slacks, a white blouse and black suit that was complimented with the embedded images of white flowers, the assemble even had frilly handcuffs to add to a more ‘softer’ look.

This attempt was laughable given the man wearing it.

The host gestured for him to take the seat next to his, the tribute doing so and smiling wolfishly at the audience that continued their vocal support of him.

His face was a mixture of slender and round, all features above his lips being reminiscent of a boyish adolescence while his sharp jaw and smug smile suggested a more grown outlook. His skin was the same color of the fresh snow to coat the grounds during winter, an ode to his Districts’ chore of masonry and making of weaponry in contrast to the other districts whose work lied outside in the fields. Another trait of his home District was the size of his broad body and full face, clearly he had never had to suffer from food outages, a privilege that was starved of the later districts. His doe eyes were bright with life and glowed with the warmth provided by his caramel-colored orbs, framed by inky black eyelashes. His nose was fleshy but impish in nature, charmingly scrunching up as he humored the crowd and host. He routinely licked his lips, keeping them moist and berry red; at times pulling them back to reveal two rows of pearly white teeth. His hair was russet brown and neatly kept, greatly contrasting the host’s green and unruly hair to prove the difference between Capitol fashion and the Districts’ more natural trend.

“Okay. Jungkook. You are a man who needs little to no introduction this year. You’re handsome, strong and the Capitol’s favorite tribute to win the 100th Annual Hunger Games. You even scored the highest with an 11 during the personal assessment test. And your confidence was off the charts given you are the only person to volunteer this year. Please tell us, what was on your mind when you were reaped to join the fourth Quarter Quell game?” The host rambled, gesturing wildly with his spray tanned hands to express the thrill he felt of talking to such an idol.

Jungkook chuckled, pretending he didn’t hear the responding coos of the ladies in the audience at hearing his melodic voice, and proceeded to say; “It’s like a dream come true. I can’t wait to show everyone what I am made of.”

The host clapped his hands and leaned closer to him excitedly, mock whispering, “Between you and me, what do you think of this years’ twist?”

Jungkook indulged his act of ‘gossiping’ and leaned forward to seriously say; “I think it’s brilliant. It’s almost unfair to others how in the bag I have this win.”

“So complete and utter violence is not a problem to you?”

Jungkook smirked, and for a brief moment the innocent allure melted off his face as his eyes darkened. “Why would it be? I’m a natural killer. With or without the weapons.”

Everyone applauded his answer, chanting his name in approval of his bloodthirsty persona. Bets were already being made and the obvious choice was sitting right in front of them. This was, without any reasonable doubt, the winner of the 100th annual Hunger Games.

The Quarter Quell occurred every 25 years, the anniversary bringing a sinister twist to the Hunger Games to remind the Districts of just how much power the Capitol has over them. The 25th Hunger games had the horrendous twist of making each District elect their own tributes, turning citizens against themselves in order to save their own children from the games. The 50th Annual Huger Games had double the tributes, each District sending four kids instead of the traditional two to provide double the murder, the winner of that game being Haymitch Abernathy. The 75th game elected previous victors to make experienced killers the players, the winner was Katniss Everdeen. Now it was the 100th Hunger Games, and the twist was that the tributes would have no help of sponsors, mentors or even weapons.

It would all be hand-to-hand combat.

Bloody and viscous fighting would be the only way to kill.

Brute force and animalistic survival would have to make up for the lack of aid and guidance provided for in previous games.

It was already predicted to be the goriest battle yet.

“I love your personality Jungkook! So determined! May I ask you a question?”

“What is it, Declan?” The boyish tribute inquired the host, leaning back into his seat with suave as he raised one of his neatly plucked brows in anticipation.

“Is there anyone on your hitlist? You know….someone you’re just going to gun for when that cannon goes off?”

Jungkook bit his lip and tilted his head, seemingly pondering the outcomes of revealing this answer to the rest of the world. The camera panned closer and closer to his flawless face as his brows furrowed in concentration, eyes gazed down in deep thought.

Finally he looked up and bored his bottomless eyes into the lens, a fire in his irises and a killer scoff painted onto his face.

The audience waited with baited breaths for his answer.

“Honestly?” He licked his lips and took a pause, as if enjoying the way everyone hung onto his words with frenzied eagerness. “Anyone who messes with District Ten’s Y/n can expect a visit from me.”

A resounding gasp shook the building.

“Oh my! A-Are you saying that she’s your lover?” the host asked after finally getting his dropped jaw to function.

Jungkook laughed, “Something like that, I guess. I believe in love at first sight and trust me….she’s mine.”

You watched the show in horror from your place backstage.

Your eyes welled up with unshed tears as District Two’s tribute began to list off reasons why he loved you on live television.

Your body was frozen to the ground as you felt the already dim fire of hope die down in the depths of your chest.

Your distraught face was glued to the screen, you felt the piercing and ruthless stares of the other tributes as they studied the alleged ‘soulmate’ of the perceived winner, the metaphorical target already being painted on. But you paid them little attention as you watched your downfall play before you, caused by a man you have never even said a word to.

He was...obsessed with you.

It was an inkling suspicion you had before.

But now you knew it to be the dreadful and tragic truth.

(Flashback)

You eyed your costume with a barely concealed face of disgust, the mirrored image before you causing a grimace of disdain.

You were from District Ten.

The main source District Ten offered to the Capitol was livestock and farming, an unglamorous but useful chore that provided the citizens with humble livelihoods and the Capitol with luxurious foods. Unfortunately, this did not translate well into fashion.

The stylist had dressed you in horns and fur; believing it to be ‘refreshing’ to dress you as the cattle and not the ranchers that looked after them. You did admit that it was on theme, but it was embarrassing and even degrading to be dressed as an animal before being slaughtered like one.

You heaved a deep breath and exited your dressing room, approaching the chariot that already held your male counterpart from District Ten.

The Chariot Rides were the first look the Capitol would get of the groomed and dressed up tributes, ogling at their costumes, looks and personalities before the official betting and sponsoring could begin.

You had no mentor to tell you what to do during the ride, so you had prepared yourself for a lukewarm smile and half-hearted waves. You saw no point in acting overly cheerful or happy to be there, you already knew that very little could change your fate.

The horses slowly began treading forward, leaving you trying hard to balance your powerless form as the over-sized chariot pushed ahead recklessly, the roar of the audience welcoming you with a ring inducing ear ache. The colorful and outlandish faces of the ultra rich passed through your peripheral, giving you a glimpse of the monsters who would be watching and counting on the deaths that would occur in the next week.

The booming anthem continued thundering the giant arena as the final two Districts made their way from behind you, the horns and drums only stopping when District 12 finally took its’ place beside the others.

The cheers quieted as the President strode towards his golden pedestal, tapping the mic before leaning his aged faced towards it to begin his annual speech.

“Tributes, we welcome you graciously to the Capitol. We commend your sacrifice and strength to join us for the 100th Annual Hunger Games!”

A brief and boisterous applause.

“As you may know, this game is very special. Not only is it the 100th game, but it is also the fourth Quarter Quell. This game, like any other Quarter Quell, will have a twist that is unorthodox with the previous games we have watched before. Tributes are expected to rely on themselves for survival, meaning no aid shall be given in or out the arena. This means no mentors to guide the tributes, no sponsors to save the day, no weapons to kill and no supplies to help survive.” The President smirked down at the chariots. “Tributes will be expected to fight like animals to win. May this game remind any remaining rebels in the districts that the capitol is still lenient with our punishment, we still could take away much more to make the games brutal for your children.”

The President’s colorless and rumbling voice drowned out as he listed off the basic rules for the tributes to follow during their stay at the capitol. The rules being well known enough for you to feel free to space out. Your mind was swimming in far more doomful thoughts.

You knew that there was something off about this game, it happened every 25 years and the game changer was always the subject of interest for everyone; Districts and Capitol alike. However you as a tribute wouldn’t get the full details until you were at the Capitol to hear what it was from the President himself. But you had a suspicion that it had something to do with taking away tribute’s support system. When you had gotten on the train you were confused to see no mentors to welcome you, only the escort and other tribute were there. This was very disappointing given that mentors were different from anyone else you’d have help you along the way- they actually lived through the games. They were also a key role in creating tailor suited strategies for tributes and gaining sponsors if there ever was a dire situation in which you’d need one.

You foolishly hoped that this would be the only set back to face.

But you never knew just how much the game keepers were taking away.

No weapons or survival bags meant an even grimmer fate for the ones playing the game.

You would have to live off the land.

You would also have to beat someone to death with your own hands if you needed to kill.

You felt your weak form crumble beneath the imaginary weight of your inevitable death. You had no chance to live. The only thing that could possibly even out the scale between you and the other tributes was weapons, strategy, and survival know-how. Without that, this game was basically being given to the careers and any other huge kid who would have no problem bashing someone’s head in. In this horrendous situation you couldn’t even hope for a quick death, hand-to-hand deaths meant bloody and painful ends.

You felt a tear trail down your cheek. Images of faceless kids with huge bodies crowding in to kill you with their own bruised and bloody hands haunted your minds’ eye. Would they strangle you? Kick your ribs until one of them breaks and puntcures your lung? Maybe-

You felt a nudge break your concentration.

You quickly wiped the tear off your face and snapped your attention to your District counterpart; Taehyung.

He was tall, slender and sun kissed due to his job at the ranch of looking after cattle that so many kids had in ten. His face was gaunt and almost intimidating, with his piercing black eyes, bushy and intense brows, regal nose and plump lips that were always in a scoff or blank with indifference. You two had not said a word to each other, the only communication you could recall was him asking you, in a gravelly and bottomless voice, to pass the butter during dinner on the train ride over to the capitol. Other than that, he was silent. You didn’t take it to heart though, you were also not much of a talker given the circumstances you two were in. You figured he was also in a state of depression and acceptance of his death, soaking in the last stimulation of life he could while also drowning himself in his own thoughts.

His eyes dragged towards the spot you wiped off, but they quickly redirected themselves to meet your own questioning stare.

“This isn’t my business or anything but…” He licked his lips and looked out to the other chariots, seemingly seeking something out before he continued his statement. “Why is Two looking at you like that?”

You followed his gaze.

District Two was one of the closest to the stage where the President was talking, but you could spot a single figure who was twisted away from the speech and looking behind him.

District two’s theme was masonry, reflective of their chore of weapon making. Due to this job they had, most of the kids who came from district two had an advantage as they knew how to handle weapons and had basic training with combat. They were the core of the career pact, Districts One and Four usually teaming up with the trained killers to create a deadly alliance. Safe to say, you did not want anyone from Two to point you out in a sea of tributes.

But it looks like you had somehow already got their attention.

His costume was gladiator-like, the chest piece being made out of jagged pieces of metal meant to look like knives and other weapons. He also wore a crown on his head, the silver twisting to look like leaves and plants but was also stained with fake blood. District Two’s stylist always wanted to hint at their team’s brutality.

You studied this costume and finally met the stare of the person.

His eyes were pitch black, the color of a midnight sky free of stars. It wasn’t clear if that was the color of his eyes or if his pupils were just that dilated, as if he was fascinated by what he saw. This assumption wasn’t a far stretch given his jaw was slightly ajar, like he was in some state of shock.

It didn’t make sense but there was no doubt about it….he was staring right at you.

His eyes drank you in, leaving you breathless at the intensity of the gaze, it held a tangible weight that caused you to shiver. His attention on you was so blatant and fearless, you wondered how the other tributes hadn’t noticed yet or if they were simply pretending not to. All of his muscular body was twisted towards your direction, the president and his speech long forgotten as he ogled you up and down. It was like he had never seen such a person before, he was studying you like he would never get another chance to.

Taehyung shifted his body and suddenly you were blocked from the stranger’s line of vision, Taehyung’s much larger frame covering you.

You took a shaky breath, the bizarreness of the look on two’s face was so confusing and it left you questioning what it could possibly mean.

“He’s been looking at you like that since we rolled out of the entrance.” Taehyung said, still blocking you but also managing to keep his eyes on the ranting president to achieve an act of listening.

“.....Maybe it’s because we’re dressed like cows?” You bleakly offered, pursing your lips at your own weak explanation.

“No, there’s more to it. I don’t know what the expression on his face was but it can’t be good.” Your District mate insisted, leaving you with a sense of relief that you weren’t the only one to feel like there was something up.

You nodded in agreement and tried to keep your agony and fear at bay given so many eyes were on the tributes.

Finally the President concluded his speech with a promising but terrifying; “May the odds be ever in your favor.”

“His name is Jungkook, District counterpart is named Joy, he’s eighteen years of age and he volunteered as tribute.” Your overly colorful and dainty escort sing-songed as she presented you two with a tape.

After the chariot ride, both you and Taehyung agreed that you should attempt to figure out as much as possible about District Two. You guys didn’t have a mentor so this meant that you would have to rely on your Capitol escort to provide you guys with information of the other tributes’ reaping.

“So what?” You asked from your spot on the neon monstrosity of a sofa. “Careers from 1 and 2 almost always volunteer.”

“Not during Quells though. Even they are too scared of the unknown twists to just jump in.” Taehyung said from a sofa parallel to yours.

You two silently watched as Vesta began bringing the hologram-like screen to life before popping in the tape of two’s reaping. You were still amazed by the technology of the Capitol, it was far more advanced than anything you saw in the farmlands of Ten.

The HD hologram burst with color as suddenly a slender, skinny but fashionable man was facing the room with a bright smile. “And now, the male tribute.”

Mesmerized, you watched as the unnamed personality skipped to the humongous glass bowl to pluck a name. He held the paper up to his squinty eyes and made his way back to the microphone to announce; “Kane Stelen.”

Before a response could even occur, a boisterous voice interjected to holler, “I volunteer as tribute!”

The camera panned out to see a young man jogging up to the stage, brown hair bouncing with his movement as he bounded excitedly towards the escort. Almost immediately the rest of District Two applauded and cheered for this guy, some even screaming out his name with a sense of pride. He grinned ruthlessly at the camera and shook hands with the confused escort when he found his spot beside him.

“What’s your name boy?”

“Jeon Jungkook.”

He then held his arm up in the air in a victor stance, the crowd going crazier in response.

The hologram suddenly depleted into darkness, leaving you all silent as you tried to dissect what you have all just witnessed.

“He’s quite handsome.” Vesta said in between her sips of bubbling champagne. “I don’t get the big deal here. Why don’t you just form an alliance with him?”

“Because we’re not careers and his loyalty would only rest within One and maybe Four.” You heard the frustration in Taehyung’s voice as he attempted to explain it to the capitol airhead.

“Don’t treat me like an idiot! I may not be a mentor but I’ve seen my fair share of games to know that if a giant tribute from a strong District takes an interest in you, it’s for the best that you use that to an advantage.” The fashionista screeched.

“That interest could be good or bad….most likely bad.” You sadly mumbled, brain still playing over the scene of his reaping.

He was so bold to volunteer for one of the deadliest games. And by the way the rest of his District supported him, you could only imagine how strong his reputation as a trainee must’ve been. He was probably one of those killing machines that looked forward to the games, maybe his parents were the type to make him learn all types of fighting and survival skills. District two tended to make their kids believe that serving in the games was some type of honor, and the gleam in his eyes told you that he genuinely believed that.

“If there’s truly no weapons in the arena, that means the bigger tributes will have the best chance.” Vesta giggled before staggering away, heels clicking awfully against the marble floor. Her fake accented voice left you with one final thought; “Don’t burn your bridges, dearie.”

(Training Day 1)

The elevator was void of any sounds greater than the breaths of you and your District mate, the empty air bouncing off the walls of the enclosed space.

You silently watched as the digital number above the metal doors continued to downgrade, illustrating the passing floors as you two descended to the basement of the training center.

“Remember, today is only about scoping out the other tributes.”

You curtly nodded.

Over breakfast that morning, you and Taehyung made a semi-alliance. You both agreed that two heads were better than one and it would be the smartest course to help each other out to make up for the lack of mentorship. This would only last up until the arena, however. the goal of the Hunger Games was to have only a single survivor, this meant that all alliances would have a turning point of one killing the other (most likely in their sleep or when their backs were turned) and neither you or Taehyung wanted to put yourselves in that situation.

“No talking to anyone, lets just try to evaluate the others and we can see where we are by the end of it.” He had said.

This seemed to be the best option; to keep an eye out on who would be the biggest threats and assess your chances after that. Thus you agreed to Taehyung’s plan.

A sudden ding sounded to announce the arrival to the basement.

You stiffened up and squared your shoulders, plastering on a blank expression as the silver doors slid open.

‘Welcome to the Training Center. Only tributes from this point on.’ A robotic voice sing-songed as you and Taehyung stepped out in unison.

The training center was a giant gymnasium void of any color but grey and silver. The huge layout had multiple different stations for various skills ranging from camouflage, fire making, combat, weaponry, and survival know-how. In the center of such an area was a circle of young people, all dressed in the same fitness attire as you and eyeing each other up with paranoid gazes.

You took a deep breath and strode forward, barely holding back your grimaces as other tributes reacted to your arrival with guarded glances of scrutiny. You planted your feet by the outer section of the circle, far from the center but close enough to still be part of the group. Taehyung stood beside you, arms crossed and eyes staring straight ahead.

You discreetly counted sixteen tributes including you and Taehyung, which meant that four more districts still had yet to arrive. You couldn’t help but search for the odd stranger from Two, and realized with a strange sense of relief, that he had yet to arrive.

You took this time to study the others as you all waited for the remaining tributes. It seemed to be a pretty good mix, there was a lot of older teens but a couple younger ones to even out the scales as well. It couldn’t be helped; the look of utter dread on the 12-14 year old faces, they without a doubt knew that their short lives were coming to an end very soon. The smaller ones would be snapped like twigs by the bigger ones; a sad reality that replayed itself every year.

As time passed, more tributes made their entrance.

Currently there was twenty-two kids.

Only two more to go.

From District Two.

After what seemed like ages, finally the ding of the elevator rang once more, followed by the sounds of footsteps approaching the cluster of kids.

Your back was turned to the elevator and you knew it would break character to turn and face them, thus you stubbornly bowed your head and studied your shoes; ears picking up on the sound of their approach.

You almost choked when they paused directly behind you.

They were standing mere inches away from you.

He was standing mere inches away from you.

Suddenly the back of your neck began to burn as you felt the unnerving weight of his stare piercing into you. Without having to even look back at him, you somehow just knew that his behavior was the same as the day of the chariots; he was studying you with a mystery sense of awe that was beyond rational understanding. Except now he was doing it from a much closer range, you could practically feel the goosebumps on your skin begin to form as you let him inspect every visible cell of you. It was as if you were under some microscope and you had no choice but to let him dissect everything he could about you.

The thundering of your heart got louder and louder as it pounded against your chest, a foreign feeling of claustrophobia caving in on you. The panic was almost enough to make you turn around and confront the intense observer, but this instinct was interrupted as the head trainer began talking.

“Welcome to the training center. As tributes, you will spend the next three days here to prepare for your time in the games. Each station is a stimulation for some of the obstacles you will face in the arena. It’s easy to want to learn all the battle skills and tricks for hand to hand combat, but my advice is to not ignore the survival skills. Statistically speaking, most of you will die due to exposure, infection, starvation and dehydration.” She paused and scanned the faces of the fear-stricken tributes. “Furthermore, communication amongst yourselves is not forbidden but any fighting is and will be met with swift punishment.” An odd gleam glimmered in her eyes as she smirked, “Save those rivalries for the arena.”

And like that, you were all dismissed to begin training.

Before you could even think about where to go, Taehyung grasped his hand around your arm and promptly dragged you to the edible plants station.

The station was a small greenhouse area filled with many kinds of plants, each having a small place card as to what type they were and their status of poisonous or not. There were also books, memory cards and quiz-taking machines for any tribute willing to strain their mind on the process of adapting all this information.

“We can spend some time here, then go to fire and shelter making later.” Your District mate explained while picking up one of the books to flip through. “Plus we have a good spot from here to spy on the combat station.”

You looked directly across to indeed see numerous tributes lining up to take a turn with the trainer. There was open mats and the trainer would talk to them briefly before wrestling with them, you assumed giving them tips before putting them to good use. Then the tribute would be sent to the back of the line as the process repeated itself with another kid.

So for the next hour, you and Taehyung took turns committing the plants to memory and also scoping out the other tributes. From time to time, Taehyung would lean over and whisper District numbers of some tributes for you to keep an eye on. Other than the usual careers, there was a few brutes from other Districts that purposed a threat. District Six had a huge guy, he didn’t look older than 16 but he seemed to be one of the few who could hold his own in the hand to hand combat. You also spotted an athletic girl from Seven who was very agile, well-fed and flew through the rope course as if it was a walk in the park. Taehyung told you to keep an eye out for her and another guy from Eight, who was keeping a low profile at the hammock making station but seemed to be one of the few kids who had an air of confidence about him, most likely due to his strong built.

Due to the Quarter Quell, everyone was avoiding the stations with weapon training, given there wouldn’t be any in the arena so it was a certified waste of time. However you did catch some careers hovering by there, as if they were tempted to just play around with the expensive and new age knives, axes and spears. This made you scoff as their childish antics really pissed you off. What kind of psycho looks at weapons as if they were shiny new toys?

While most of the tributes were scrambling to absorb all the tips they could get, the careers seemed to be having fun. They rough-housed and conversed as if they were an over-hyper friend group. Their relaxed attitude hinted at their experience with training; they probably grew up with similar practices so they didn’t feel the intense pressure the others did. Still it was disrespectful and made the knots in your stomach tighten with anxiety.

Maybe they really were trained killers….

The odd stranger from Two was also in this group, but you tried your hardest not to pay any attention to him. You had a fear that he would take your temporary interest in him as some sort of invitation to talk. Because of this, you kept your focus on the plants but snuck occasional glances towards him. He seemed to be one of the quieter ones of the pack, yet the others followed his lead without question whenever he stalked off to other stations.

“I think it’s time we headed to the fire making station, don’t you?”

You turned around to see Taehyung as he approached you from behind, gaze already set on the suggestion station. You nodded in agreement, plants were already a very bland topic but you beared it your burden knowing that it could be the difference between life and death in a case of starvation. You just hoped that learning how to make a fire was a tad more interesting than this.

The instructor of that station directed you and your District mate to a make-shift camp area. As you sat on the fake logs and watched as the professional demonstrated just how to create a spark, a sight across the gymnasium caused your focus to come to a frigid stop.

The tributes of District Two were leaning leisurely against a wall and staring right at you. Well...he was staring right at you while his partner was turned to him, talking in a rushed fashion and making furious gestures in your direction.

Your heart plummeted.

His face was blank but his eyes were somehow both dazed and ultra-focused onto his target. When he noticed that you were looking right back at him, he raised a brow and tilted his head before pushing his tongue against his cheek.

His counterpart, Joy as you vaguely recalled, followed his gaze to you, her face dropping and posture stiffening in response to your equally stressed expression. She muttered one more thing to him and stormed off, leaving him to wolfishly grin at you, creepily indifferent to anything she had said to him, as he stalked forward.

You nudged Taehyung as the enigma of a man steadily approached.

Comfortable, elegant and seemingly determined, Jungkook plopped himself on a log parallel to the one you and Taehyung shared. The fire reacted to his arrival by bursting into life, the newfound flames painting an orange glow on his charming face and bottomless black orbs.

Apparently the instructor sensed that he should make his leave, he muttered a quick “I’ll go get some more sticks” and dashed off to leave you and Taehyung alone with the intimidating career.

“My name is Jungkook. I’m from Two. And you are?”

The fire cackled as a silence ghosted upon the trio.

He laughed, the sound twinkling and musical as he brushed his hair back to reveal a clear forehead. He propped his arm on his knee before raising a brow. “You know usually when someone introduces themselves the custom is for the person to respond back.”

“We’re from Ten.” Taehyung blankly answered.

Jungkook licked his lips. “Do you guys’ have any names?”

“Don’t see how that is relevant, we don’t even know why you’re here. What is it that you want?” Taehyung’s deep voice was almost as scary as the situation that was unfolding before your very eyes.

“Fair enough. I watched your guys’ reaping and know that your names are Taehyung and Y/n. I was just being polite but I suppose we could skip the formalities if you prefer.” Jungkook leaned forward, the fire causing a most primitive vibe as it highlighted his dark features and made his next words all the more barbaric. “I want to be allies.”

“No.” The reply was swift and brutal on Taehyung’s part, masking your splutter of shock at such a ludicrous request.

“May I ask why not?” Jungkook’s casualty didn’t falter at the answer, most likely expecting it.

“It won’t benefit us. Your motives are unknown and it makes no sense for you to even want us as allies. We’re not careers.”

“Maybe I’m not a muscle head and am thinking deeper about the games than just teaming up with other athletic tributes.” Jungkook argued, small smirk still evident.

“That still doesn’t explain why you’d want us. If you’re looking for smarts or underdogs, there’s plenty of other tributes that fit the bill better than us.”

Jungkooks’ eyebrow did a funny twitch as he smiled, rather fakely with dead eyes, at Taehyung. He without a doubt picked up on Taehyung’s stubbornness and abandoned any hope to convince him. Although he did seem rather pissed about this, he continued on with a forced tone of amicability. “Fine, I’ll count you out then.” He then bored his inky eyes into yours, turning all his attention onto you. “You however still have an open invitation.”

Before you could even open your mouth, Taehyung answered for you; “She’s with me. I’m not in so neither is she.”

Suddenly, Jungkook’s face dropped, lips morphing into a snarl-like manner while glaring furiously at your poor District mate. Long gone was the act of any friendliness, his frustration shined through with a sinister anger. The switch was so fast that you wondered for a moment if you were just imagining it, but by the way Taehyung shifted in his spot you knew that it was very much real. The career then gritted out, “She’d be far better of with me than you.”

“I doubt that.” You couldn’t help but agree with your District mate on this one. For the very short amount of time you had conversed with the odd boy from 2, it was already evident that he was prone to very unusual behaviors along with swift and gruesome personality changes.

“I’ve trained my whole life for this. I think I’m perfectly capable of taking care of her in that arena.” Jungkook was persistent, bewildering you with his unknown mission in becoming allies with you. Why in the world would he want you instead of the other bloodthirsty careers? What did he see in you? And why was he willing to fight Taehyung and brag about his ability to protect you?

“Exactly, you trained your whole life for this. Focus on being the sole winner of this game and leave me and Y/n alone.”

The words hung heavy in the air, echoing in your eardrums as the severity of the situation once again entered the conversation with a pending sense of doom. The theme of ‘every man for themselves’ was all too glaringly obvious. If Jungkook was desperate to win, then how come he was breaking his back to get closer to a girl who he’d have to kill off anyway? Was this an insight to how careers viewed teamwork in the games? Did they approach each other like, “hey no hard feelings but in that arena I will chop your head off when it comes down to it but until then let’s be friends”? Why even bother gathering in a pack if you know that one of them was more than likely your future killer?

Jungkook’s face melted off any emotion as a hard mask of indifference overtook his handsome appearance. He stiffly nodded before standing up to his full height, taking slow but deliberate steps away from the camp.

He was barely out of the station when he halted his stride, glancing over his shoulder to set his somber eyes on you.

“Does he always speak for you?”

The question was clearly directed at you in reference to Taehyung and the fact that you had not said a single word during the whole ordeal.

Your system seemed to shut down now that Jungkook was directly asking you something, all you could do was open and close your mouth as your brain scrambled for what to say.

He grinned, although there was no malice behind the action. It was almost a fond smile as he watched you blush and stutter. Like he enjoyed you being caught off guard by a simple question on his part. This odd response was gone before you could study it, as he turned on his heel and went to rejoin the other careers.

The second day of training was a tad more bearable than the first.

The tributes were not required to round up and wait until everyone arrived to begin training, as soon as one got there they were free to roam to their hearts’ desire.

You had decided to split apart from Taehyung and experience a limited feeling of independency. This was brought upon by Taehyung’s paranoia of the careers.

“That Jungkook guy most likely gave the rest a heads up that we’re an alliance. We should try to stay apart in order to throw them off.” These were the first words to greet you when you stalked over to the elevator after awaking late and missing breakfast.

“Why? Are we in a really bad spot right now?” You had asked.

“Generally careers would want to gun down other alliances before picking off individuals one by one. And from what happened yesterday, I can guarantee that Two isn’t forgetting us anytime soon.”

You had just shrugged in weak agreement and continued the wait for the elevator in silence. The thing was, you didn’t know what you and Taehyung actually were. Sure, you helped each other out but it there was an understanding that come arena time it was every man for themselves. So could it be said that District Ten had an alliance? You weren’t sure. What you did know was that it was very generous for Taehyung to step in the way he had during the conversation with 2. Either that or he was very stupid...too speak so boldly to a career and deny him when matters didn’t necessarily involve him. But luckily he did...you weren’t sure what you’d do if you had to deal with that Jungkook guy all on your own.

So here you were; alone at the camouflage station, trying to paint a tree trunk on your arm whilst also deciphering if this station was even worth the trouble.

You had never been much of an artist so it was proving to be a difficult task to properly get all the precise details of the bark down. It surely didn’t help that you were only allowed to use natural ingredients as paint. You were currently mixing a mixture of dirt and water to create the ideal brown paint, but it was becoming increasingly hard to strike the perfect balance. Too much dirt meant a very flakey consistency while too much water meant a very liquidey one.

“Who the fuck has time to paint themselves when they’re in the middle of a blood bath?” you mumbled in frustration before shoving the paint bucket away in anger.

“I second that notion.” A small and shaky voice called out.

You turned around to see a young boy standing a few feet away from you, holding up a paintbrush as he gestured to his forearm. On said body part was a chalky and sloppily painted on flower, evidence to his shared hatred of the camflogue station.

His round and chubby face smiled nervously at you, most likely regretting having said anything to you in the first place. He looked to be 13 or 14 years of age, frame similar to yours except slightly smaller. His eyes were smiley but looked to be puffy, his plump lips were currently set in a childish pout as he awkwardly shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

Caught off guard, you just nodded and hastily grabbed the rag to wipe off your ‘masterpiece’. Logically speaking, you were aware that this little boy was little to no threat to you, compared to the careers and other scary tributes. However you couldn’t help the fact that your nervous system went into overdrive when talking to tributes that weren’t Taehyung. Call it paranoia but there was no way of knowing this boys’ intentions of speaking to you. For all you know, he could’ve been playing bait for some bigger tributes to reel you in.

An image of District Two flashed in your minds’ eye, causing you to shudder.

“I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you or anything. I just really need someone to talk to….” He whined as he watched you frantically gather to put the equipment away. “No one will let me near them because they don’t take me seriously as a tribute.”

You froze.

“I know I’m just a kid but...I deserve an ally too, right?”

You felt an involuntary tug on your heart strings as you heard the desperate plea of a literal child.

What was wrong with you?

He was so young and probably faced the lowest chances of winning this game, and here you were; dashing away from him as if he was the big black wolf when all he wanted was a friend. You felt a sudden feeling of disgust in yourself. Did this game really affect you that much that you were quick to turn your back on a helpless boy? Did you now have the same morals of a killing machine career?

You shook your head and turned back around to face the kid.

“I’m sorry. I’ve just been really...anxious lately.” You struggled to explain. “What’s your name?”

The boys’ expression of distraught melted into a somber smile as he sized you up and down. Then, when he knew for sure that you were serious about talking to him, he released a tiny giggle and jogged up closer to you.

“I’m Chenle! From District Three!”

The boy was overly friendly and way too trusting of you. But luckily for him, you weren’t kidding when you told him that you would also love an ally. He talked really fast, as if he had countless thoughts bouncing off the walls of his little head and they were all racing to escape his pouty lips. And when he did share a thought with you, a twinkle in eyes glimmered excitedly as if he was getting giddy from just telling you his little ‘secrets’.

You learned that he was thirteen years old and possibly the youngest one here. He was also a big brother to a little girl back at his home district. Chenle had a mother but no father and although he was very scrawny and small, he did very well in school and had more brains than most of the older tributes.

“Remember the 58th annual Hunger Games? The winner was Beetee Latier and he took out a whole pack of careers by electrocuting them.” He told you with a coy smile on his face as his eyes gazed off with a bleak expression. “I want to model my game after that, careers are usually all muscle and no brain. It’s my only hope; to outsmart them.”

You recalled that game. The winner as one of the last tributes standing and he looked to be at odds compared to how big and brutal the others were. Luckily for him, a sponsor aired in some electric wire and he used it to kill the remaining tributes.

You bit the inside of your cheek and avoided his gaze. You didn’t have the heart to interject and point out that the chances of coming across electric wire to outsmart muscle heads was very unlikely. Also this game being a Quarter Quell and it’s awful twist meant that this game was built very differently. Any strategy outside of pure strength was very flawed. There would be no equipment in that arena, and no sponsors either. Instead you focused on much lighter topic of discussion.

“The victor of that game was also from Three, right? Are all kids from your home District little whizes with technology?” you asked.

He giggled and rubbed the back of his neck. “I guess we have more of a knack for it than any other district. Our school lessons are built around it.”

“That’s really cool! You’re way smarter than any kid over at Ten. Lots of them don’t even continue going to school after elementary.” You praised.

“How come?”

“Most of them need to help their family on the farm so higher education isn’t really needed.” You shrugged half-heartedly.

Chenle nodded and got a thoughtful look on his face. “You know, I never really even gave much thought to other Districts. It’s a shame that I just now got an interest in them.”

You couldn’t help but agree that it was indeed a very awful irony. The very first time that he’d ever interact with anyone outside of Three was when he’d come face to face with the other tributes he’d be thrown into a bloodbath with.

“Oh! You have some paint on your lower back.” The young boy pointed out, interrupting your train of thoughts.

You cursed under your breath, twisting to try and catch sight of the paint but failing to do so. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Chenle grabbing a rag, he then approached you and offered to wipe it off.

You let him.

But this was apparently a very big mistake.

“DON’T TOUCH HER!”

The boisterous holler caused all the tributes in the training center to freeze and turn their attention to the cause of such war cry.

At first you assumed that a fight was breaking out in one of the other stations, but then it occurred to you that the words yelled would have nothing to do with a typical ‘tributes butting heads’ situation.

When you looked up, your heart dropped to your stomach.

Jungkook was hustling forward, head tilted like a bull as his steps vibrated the ground beneath him; like a gladiator approaching its’ final victim. His coal-like orbs were ignited with the flame of fury, and such eyes were set on you and your recent thirteen year old ally.

Instinctively, you pulled the boy behind you as you realized what was happening.

Soon the fuming tribute was standing in front of you and snarling at the innocent but confused babe that you tried to shield with your meager arms.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?! You can’t just touch her like that!” He yelled, stepping forward as Chenle stepped back in fear.

“I-I was just helping her get something off.” The boy whined in defense, cracking and prepubescent voice trembling as he spoke.

“Oh please, I know how boys your age think! Tell me something you little freak, were you trying to cup your first feel or something before you’re eventually killed in that arena? Is that why you’ve clung onto her all day?” Jungkook held a spiteful scowl as he taunted Chenle, without a doubt trying to embarrass the boy as well as scare him.

“N-NO! It’s n-not like that.” The pitiful whines were ignored by the career.

There was a brief silence as Jungkook looked both you and the boy up and down, tongue pressing against his cheek in a tick of annoyance.

You held your breath.

“What district are you from?” Jungkook spoke after coming to a mysterious conclusion in his mind.

You felt yourself freeze in dread. You couldn’t bring yourself to say a word so you just watched in horror as this awful predator threatened to swallow this prey alive for no more reason than sheer paranoia and unfortunate misunderstanding. Your eyes began to water, you felt so worthless for not helping in any way. But it was as if there was a force beyond you that was causing you to halt all movement and logical thinking, manipulating you so you were left to watch this awful showdown. The weight of the collective gaze from all the other tributes watching had paralyzed you.

You were forced to watch on.

“T-three.”

Jungkook smirked, handsome face looking ruthless and somewhat satisfied.

“I’ll see you in the arena.”

It was a chilling promise, a signed deathwish from yours truly. Targets weren’t definite in the Hunger Games. Most people killed who they could whenever they crossed paths with someone weaker than them. It was a series of luck, stealth and strength. Very rarely were personal vendettas the cause of killings in the arena; unless revenge kills counted, when someone killed your ally and in return you kill them. But almost never, never, were such hateful rivalries formed in the short period before the games.

And having such a brute like Two promising to gun you down was as soul-crushing as watching your demise before your very own eyes.

With that, Jungkook turned around once again to storm away.

You pretended to not feel the piercing stares of the tributes, each trying to dissect why someone touching you would bring out such a violent reaction from Two.

You turned to console Chenle, only to see tears streaming down his face before he made a dash for the restrooms.

You promised to wait until he got out to talk to him, but the bell rang to announce the ending of the second day of practice.

You left the center in shame.

The third day of training was uneventful.

Everyone avoided you like you had the plague.

Including Chenle and Taehyung.

You didn’t necessarily blame them for putting distance between you and them. After what had happened with Jungkook, it was obvious that the career would target anyone and everyone around you. They were just doing the rational thing of saving themselves, yet it was still heartbreaking for you.

You just wanted to apologize to Chenle, to repay him in any way for what he had to suffer through yesterday. But whenever you attempted to close in on him, he’d become pale as a ghost before sprinting away.

Taehyung remained as stoic as he always had, yet he never pulled you aside or met you with notes in hand like you were hoping.

This was the clear breakage in the ‘semi-alliance’ and you took the hint with grace.

It wasn’t like your relationship with him was going to last long anyways.

Weak and dreary was how you spent the last day of training. You wondered around the stations, thoughtless, depressed and exhausted. You had one goal in mind; stay away from Jungkook. You kept one paranoid eye on him, always making sure to stay several stations away from whichever one he resided in.

Currently you were at the shelter making station, listening half heartedly to the trainer as they presented how to form a pile of sticks into an acceptable hideout. The reason for your lack of interest was due to the looming thought of ‘why bother?’ Any life-saving skill wasn’t going to be learned in a matter of three days, and being under the radar of a psychotic man like Two lowered your chances even further. Today you allowed the purgatory-like fog to overrule you.

Idly you wondered if there was life after death. It couldn’t be helped, the promise of death was right around the corner and your human mind was wrapped up in the unanswered question of if end was really the end. You desperately wanted there to be something, anything, to greet you when you meet your violent and barbarian end. But logically, you knew that absolute nothingness was more likely.

Long ago there was such thing as religion, people believed in a higher power and thought you were either rewarded or punished after death based on how good of a person you were in life. That was before the Capitol took over and erased all institutions that went against what they thought. You learned about it briefly in school but never gave it much thought. But now that you were nearing the end of your short life, you found yourself wishing that some mystical being from above could take mercy on you in the form of a oasis-like place to greet you after your murder.

Maybe there would be-

“Excuse me?” A melodic and womanly voice interrupted your thoughts, causing you to look up and see whom was now standing in between you and the trainer in action.

She wasn’t facing you, instead addressing the shelter-maker with a tone of politeness.

“Would you mind letting me and this girl talk in private?”

The trainer nodded and left the half-made shelter, getting up to approach another tribute who was yards away and attempting their own version of a hide-out. Whilst this happened, the girl finally turned to face you.

It was Joy.

From District Two.

Jungkook’s Counterpart.

Your eyes widened and instinctively you took a step back, hoping to create a distance just in case she was also crazy like him. She noted this paranoid behavior with an eyebrow raise and a roll of her dark eyes.

“Calm down. I’m not him.” she reassured.

You gave her a guarded look, filled with scrutiny and disbelief.

Sure, technically just because someone came from the same District as a douchebag didn’t necessarily mean that they were guilty solely on association. But, Joy still was part of the career pack and by no means should be trusted.

The gorgeous woman was also a visual counterpart to her handsome district mate. She was tall, curvy, with a mature face and sexy features that made you feel insecure about your own. You wondered how the hell she could be in the same age-range as you, she looked to be in her twenties bare minimum. Her smouldering eyes looked around you two, scoping out the area before she grabbed your hand and dragged you behind a fake in-door tree that’s width was large enough to shield you both.

“I don’t have a lot of time and trust me, I’ll be in more danger than you if he finds out I’m talking to you.” She leaned her pale face closer, eyes deeply gazing into yours with an intense seriousness. “Jungkook is obsessed with you.”

“W-what?” You spluttered.

“He’s fucking crazy! I don’t know what it is about you that makes him insane but he snapped the moment he saw you that day of the chariots.” She hush-screeched, extra careful to not draw attention to your guys’ secret conversation.

You couldn’t say that it didn’t make sense. Because frankly, it did make all the sense in the world. However it was still a leap think that someone who you’ve never said a word to could be obsessed with you. You thought he was probably just messing with you, playing mind games with one of his victims before actually killing them. Most likely trying to create an entertaining game for the viewers to enjoy and root for. But certainly not genuine interest.

“Look, when he’s not eating or resting he’s watching your reaping tape. He’s constantly asking our escort to get in touch with your escort so he can try to talk to you. He told all the careers to not touch you. He even asked me to keep an eye out on you during these training days so no one ‘gets too close’.” She said this all in a rush, her face morphing to show the true emotion she felt about her own ally; she was scared. “In the game, he wants to find you and have you join the career pack. He told us that first we have to find you before anything else. I’m afraid you won’t have a choice in the matter.”

“Why are you telling me all this?” You asked.

Any aid given from tribute to tribute had to be dealt with extreme caution. There was no absolute way of knowing that some sort of angle wasn’t being played with you. Strategically speaking, Joy could be acting like a friend to earn your trust by using her ally’s odd behavior to her advantage. You couldn’t allow yourself to be played even though every bone in your body told you that she wasn’t lying about Jungkook’s infatuation.

She licked her ruby lips and straightened up, gaining control of her expression and plastering on a look of aloofness. “I don’t know but don’t expect anymore handouts from me. I’m coming to you as a woman. If a boy was doing all that to me without my knowledge, I’d want someone to tell me.”

She peeked out from the tree to make sure the coast was clear before making her wordless leave.

A couple minutes of silence passed as you leaned against the tree and tried to process what had just happened.

Later you returned back to the trainer and asked for more pointers about making a hideout so hidden that tributes will unknowingly walk past it. A new motivation and need to focus ignited within you due to her words rang in your minds’ eye.

‘He wants to find you and have you join the career pack.’

Over your dead body would you ever join those monsters.

But, was Joy different?

By coming up to you to warn you, did she prove that perhaps not all careers were as heartless as you had suspected?

Or was she playing one of her own games?

(Back to interviews)

“And the next tribute we have is perhaps the one we all want to see most.”

The TV personality grinned excitedly at the responding roar the crowd released as they without a doubt anticipated the upcoming tribute.

“Coming from District Ten, coming straight for our hearts….” The man faked looking side to side as if to tell a secret; “And not to mention, District Twos’ heart….”

A brief laughter.

“The gorgeous and lovely- Y/N L/N!!”

You took one deep breath and tried to calm your racing heart.

Without your consent the backstage worker pushed you into the blinding limelight, causing you to stumble onto the platform.

Claps, cheers and screams welcomed you and rang in your poor eardrums as you slowly walked over to the waving host. Luckily you made it to the seat before your legs could give out, but you had to clutch at your overly expensive dress while doing so.

You smiled nervously and tried to mask your upcoming panic attack by focusing solely on the over-zealous host and not the thousands of hungry stares from the below audience. In return, he excitedly took your hands in his and asked; “You’re a sight for sore eyes, dear! I think we can all see why Jungkook is so enamoured by you!”

Your smile faltered for a brief moment before you forced it back on.

“T-Thank you.” You settled on taking the compliment without acknowledging the implications of Jungkook.

But you were a fool to think that there would be a chance that the host wouldn’t focus on the taboo subject matter and nothing else.

“You know Y/n, it’s been over 25 years since the Hunger Games has last seen a couple. Would you mind telling us the story of how you and Jungkook met?”

You gulped.

But maybe this was a blessing in disguise? Perhaps there was a chance that this was your opportunity to clear this whole mess up? Surely telling the truth in front of so many people could untangle the whole misunderstanding.

“The thing is Declan, I’ve never even said a word to him. We’re complete strangers.” Your meek voice sounded laughable even to you but you were glad it was finally said out loud and off your chest.

Declan’s face dropped as a look of shock took over his artificial features.

And then in a blink of an eye it morphed back into a wide smile that revealed his bleached teeth.

“Aww! You must be the coy one between the two of you. I’m guessing Jungkook does all the talking for you. How cute!”

The crowd cooed at this ludicrous conclusion.

“Y/n, I would ask about your strategy in the arena but with someone like Jungkook in your corner I dare say you’re going to be the safest tribute.”

The crowd laughed, amused with the guard dog you supposedly had watching over you.

“No, it’s a misunderstanding. I’m single and Jungkook is not an ally of mine in any way.” You protested.

Instead of addressing you, the host turned to the audience and placed a hand beside his mouth to fake-whisper; “She’s still denying it! We’re gonna get nothing outta this girl!”

There was mixed reaction from the crowd, some more ‘aww’s for you and laughs at the host. You were hopeless to the incoming blush that burned your cheeks, ducking your face in fear that people would consider it a blush of passion and embarrassment and not one of anguish and anger.

“Y/n, there’s no need to be shy. Young love is a beautiful thing! You and Jungkook make the perfect duo for this game, he has the brawn and you must have the brains, He’s the beast to your beauty. The Ying to your Yang!” The host squealed this all while excitedly flapping his hands like a thrilled school girl.

You pursed your lips in an attempt to not snap on live television at the delusional fool who was more concerned with ratings instead of the truth.

“But you know, there can only be one winner.” The solemn hush rang amongst the audience in an instant, the seriousness causing all crowd reaction to halt. “As we know, in the 74th Annual Hunger Games, Katniss and Peeta had to turn on each other.” The host continued while sniffling; “Y/n, aren’t you afraid of that moment when you and Jungkook will have to compete against each other?”

You licked your lips before saying with the straightest face you could muster; “No.”

Interviews with tributes only lasted three minutes.

After attempting to dodge the questions as best you could, you were soon waved off the stage as District Eleven began theirs.

Vesta excitedly escorted you down the narrow backstage hallway and into the Ten dressing room, all the while chatting your ear off about her personal thoughts of your screen time.

“You looked so cute up there! But oh dear, do your social skills need work. You’re lucky Declan knows how to carry one-sided conversations.” She rambled before stopping to open a wooden door marked ‘10’. “Anywho, wait here with Taehyung while I go get more drinks. Those damn Avoxes apparently don’t know the meaning of bottomless champagne.”

You rolled your eyes at the first world problems that occupied her little mind, whilst also feeling bad for the silent slaves that would face her bitchy wrath and irreconcilable alcoholism. You studied her retreating form for a brief moment before stepping into the room and closing the door behind you.

The dwelling was small but efficient; pressed against a wall was a long table filled with expensive finger foods and drinks, an animal-printed sofa in the center and a wall-sized screen that projected the current live show taking place on stage.

The only people in such place were the two designers, whom were talking quietly next to the table, and Taehyung who sat watching the rest of the interviews. Having reached your limit of capitol people for the day, you took a seat on the same couch Taehyung occupied.

He was as straight-faced and aloof as ever, barely acknowledging you in favor of fixating his coal-like eyes on the other tributes as they spoke of strategy with the enthusiastic host.

You couldn’t help but wonder what he thought of your interview, if he felt any sense of sympathy at the romantic propaganda that was pushed onto you. But you and him weren’t exactly on peaking terms either.

So thus you two sat, wordlessly dissecting the bland interviews of District Eleven.

It wasn’t until the entire show was over that Taehyung said something to you.

Vesta had returned and rounded you both up to go back to the suite.

When exiting the elevator and entering the tenth floor, Taehyung uttered a final thought before turning his back to you to head to his room.

These would later be the last words he’d ever say to you.

In his intimidating and bottomless voice he told you; “You’re either the luckiest tribute in this game, or the most doomed.”

(Couple things; I AM open to doing a part two but if I had this in my docs for a second longer I think I was gonna blow my brains out. I do know where I wanna take it in the arena but decided to post it as it is bc I need time to organize the actual battle. Hopefully getting some feedback on this first part can help my creativity. This was orginally a request for a joint blog I was apart of but I left it...however the anon who requested told me they were happy that I was gonna be the one who wrote it and I already had 10+k down so I said fuck it. The gif I had is really similar to the gifs I used for Pen Pal but pls don't drag me I cant find good yandere Jungkook gifs like he’s an actual ball of fluff. Also I need to hire an editor bc omfg this is so shitty it looks like a first draft. But anyway, Please do tell me what you thought of this story and well...issa wrap)

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kining-the-evil · 6 months ago

Note

I just wanted to say I read all ur yandere haymitch content and I LOVE it, I keep going back to it

In honor of Haymitch getting a new book coming out do you think you could write more yandere Haymitch? Maybe continue the Victor reader one that ended on the quarter quell announcement ?

I’ll Protect You; Part 2

/AN/: I’m so glad you like my Yandere!Haymitch stuff, it genuinely makes my day when I hear people like my writing. And you’re so right that I need to celebrate the announcement of the new book! I’ve had very lose plans of writing a part two so I finally will!

/Summer/: With the announcement of the quarter quell Haymitch does his best to protect you from going through the horrors of the games once again, though he can only do so much

/Warnings/: Yandere!Haymitch, controlling behavior, it’s not a focal point but Haymitch has basically kidnapped reader, alcoholism, talks of the games, nightmares, ptsd, mentions of drugging, threats of violence, little care for people’s lives, age gap, readers age isn’t specified but she’s meant to be in her 20’s, Haymitch is basically a gross old man but he does deeply care for reader

Part One Can Be Found Here

Hunger games masterlist. Other Masterlists

Hot. That’s all that was going through your mind, hot.

The sand beneath your was biting into your skin and the rock above you was rubbing your skin raw, but you didn’t dare move. A desert, of course you ended up in a desert arena with practically nothing in it. No water, no food, and no where to hide, when you found a small crevice to hide yourself in you had thanked any god that may be listening. It was hot in your little hiding spot, but it got you out of the sun and you could see out without others seeing you.

You attempted to lick your dry lips as you fiddled with the small knife you’d found, but it didn’t help at all. How long had it been since you drank anything? A few days at least, you were weak and you were sure of you tried to stand up you’d be to lightheaded to actually do anything. This was it, you’d die here in this little hole soon, at least it was better than being brutally murdered.

You froze the moment a sound came from around outside your hole, footsteps stumbling around through the sand. You bit your lip hard to hide your breathing, praying that they didn’t find you, and after a few moments you thought they had left. Then suddenly a head was looking down into the hole and you were both letting out a scream.

Two arms reached down and grabbed you by the hair to yank you up, forcing you to follow on hopes of the person not ripping out your hair. Once out you were shoved into the sand, some getting into your dry mouth.

“Where is it!?” The girl screamed as you slowly looked up at her. It was a girl from district 7, she had been scrawny when she showed up and seemed to be doing as bad as you were. Her skin was badly burned and her face was sunken in from lack of food and water. She had dried blood on her clothes, but her eyes were what scared you.

“What-“

“I know you took it!” She screamed again, pointing a finger at you. “Where is my water!?”

“I don’t have it!” You whimpered back, your hand tightening around the small knife. You didn’t know if you’d be able to do it, but you may have no choice. The girl continued to yell and you hoped no one was anywhere close by or they could definitely hear her, but as you thought that she launched herself at you.

Luckily, she was as weak as you were so you stood somewhat of a chance as you tried to push her off of you. As you struggled against her you could feel her nails digging into you, and in a desperate moment you shoved the knife into her. You barely recognized the scream she let out as you finally shoved her off of you and you were able to sit up. You pulled the knife out, and without thinking you stabbed her again. And again, and again. You kept going, blood splattering up onto your face, and you didn’t stop until she stopped moving and her eyes went empty. You were sobbing when you stopped and the cannon went off. She was dead, you killed her.

************

You shot up in bed, a scream leaving your throat as your mind went through the memory. Your hands clawed at your face in an attempt to get the blood that wasn’t there off your face until two large ones were grabbing them to pull them away from your face.

“Hey, sweetheart, calm down. You’re okay,” Haymitch’s voice cut through your cries as he pulled you back against his chest, causing you to thrash in his hold.

“Please! No, I can’t-“ you let out loud sobs as he kept his arms tightly around you. This was how Haymitch always handled your nightmares, holding you until you finally tired yourself out.

It took a good thirty minutes of you sobbing and begging him to let you go for you to finally calm down, going limp in his arms.

“There you go,” Haymitch whispered, one hand wrapped around your back and the other coming up to hold your head against his chest. “You’re okay…”

“I can’t…” you whimpered into his chest, his chest hair rubbing against your skin.

“I know sweetheart, I know. Just get some sleep.” You shook your head quickly, the thought of sleeping again terrifying you. You’d go back to those memories, and you didn’t want to.

“It’s two in the morning, you have to go back to sleep,” Haymitch said again, but you just stayed curled up on his lap. “If you can’t sleep on your own I’ll give you a pill-“

“No.” You quickly cut him off. The pill was something Snow himself had told doctors to give you after your games when you’d go days without sleeping. It melted into your tongue and had you asleep in moments, but it left you groggy and basically drugged for most of the next day. When you first started taking it there were days where you were out of it.

“That’s what I thought,” Haymitch mumbled as he laid back in the bed, keeping you against him. “Get some sleep.” He commanded before settling to sleep himself.

**********

You sat on the couch in the living room as you listened to someone coming into the house. You assumed it was Katniss and Peeta, but you made no move to greet them like you normally would.

From the moment you woke up again this morning you felt numb. It was like your mind didn’t want to think about what would be happening in a few hours.

You didn’t do any of your normal morning behaviors. Normally, you woke up before Haymitch and got up to get yourself ready. You’d read for a bit, cook breakfast and eat your own before wrapping up Haymitch’s for later, and then tidy up the kitchen. Depending on the day you’d get some more cleaning done until Haymitch woke up and you’d sit with him while he ate.

Instead you laid in bed, awake, until Haymitch forced you to get up. He basically carried you into the bathroom and ran a bath before gently washing you. Despite normally being a quiet man, Haymitch filled the space with mindless chatter. He knew you weren’t going to answer, but he knew you retreated further into your mind when it was quiet, so he talked about anything to keep your mind somewhat busy.

After your bath Haymitch dressed you in comfy clothes, knowing a stylist would change it later, and led you to the kitchen. He didn’t know much about cooking so you both had fruit for breakfast and then he took you to the seating room and left you there to get himself ready.

“Good morning y/n,” Peeta greeted as he walked into the room, and even though you made no attempt to acknowledge him, the younger boy sat down in the chair next to yours. “How was your morning?”

You honestly loved Peeta. From the moment he was reaped a year ago you could tell he was a sweet boy. His first night on the train he reminded you of yourself when he helped get Haymitch cleaned up after getting too drunk. Peeta brought the idea of saying he was in love with Katniss to your first, and you had to admit you wanted him to win just as much as you’d wanted Katniss too. When they both one you had cried tears of joy.

When you didn’t answer the slightly younger boy he didn’t push it, instead letting the room settle into silence. Because of that you could hear Katniss and Haymitch speaking, but couldn’t make out what they were saying. After a few moments another knock was at the door and more people filled the house.

“Darling,” Haymitch kneeled down next to your chair once they came into the room. “They need to get you ready.”

After a moment of you not moving he reached up to touch one of your arms. “It’ll just be a few minutes-“

“Oh, for gods sake Haymitch!” Effie stepped forward and reached out for one of your hands, using it to yank you up out of the chair.

“Effie-“

“I’ll get her ready. You get dressed and try not to spill anything on it.” Effie pulled waved your partner and the rest of the people in the room off. Haymitch made eye contact with you and when you nodded he left you alone with the woman you’d known since 18.

“I have the most gorgeous dress for you,” Effie turned to grab a dress, showing it to you. It was knee length and a sky blue. It wasn’t quite the same material from the Capital, taking a slight style from district 12. “It’s pretty, but not to much. Just how you like it!”

You forced a smile to Effie at her enthusiasm. Effie was as always such a positive person. While her view on the games were a bit upsetting, you knew for a fact that she cared about you.

The woman helped get you ready, getting you dressed and doing a very light makeup on your face. ‘Enough for the cameras, but not to much.’

“You look amazing, dear.” She smiled at you, but it fell when you mumbled a quiet thank you. “I know today’s a lot,” she lowered her voice to speak with you. “Everything’s going to be okay.” She reached out to squeeze your hands with her own, helping to reassure you. Inside you knew that it wasn’t going to be okay, you’d either be back in the games yourself or walking a 17 year old back into them. And Haymitch… god, you couldn’t think about Haymitch.

“Let’s go check on that man of yours.”

Haymitch was dressed in a suite while Katniss and Peeta were dressed more casually. It broke you a bit more, you and Haymitch were supposed to look like pros while Katniss and Peeta were made to look like the kids they were. None of you belonged in these games.

Going to the reaping was a blur, going up on stage was a blur, everything was a blur until Effie’s hand was dipping into the female tribute bowl to choose one of the two names. You watched as Effie’s long nails picked up one of the papers and pulled it out of the bowl. She slowly unfolded the paper and after a second of hesitation spoke.

“Y/n l/n.”

Your mind went blank when you heard your name called out. Suddenly you were 18 again, so close to escaping the hunger games. Your name was in the bowl so many times due to having no parent to help feed you, but you were praying to make it through your last reaping. Instead, your name was called and you were forced to walk up to the stage. You’d rewatched the reaping a few times, and you couldn’t believe how skinny you’d really been, literally just skin and bones. You may be older, you may be in better shape, but you were just as terrified to step forward today as you were those years ago.

You stood next to Effie and listened as she called the male tribute. Peeta. For a moment you could breath, knowing Haymitch wouldn’t be going in, until a voice spoke.

“I volunteer,” Haymitch’s deep voice spoke, causing your head to snap over to look at him. You could just imagine how wide your eyes were in that moment. He was… he couldn’t…

Peeta tried to argue for a moment but Haymitch alles forward to stand next to you, his hand gently reaching out to take your hand. He gave it a gentle squeeze, expecting you to squeeze back but you were to shocked.

“The male and female tributes for district twelve,” Effie’s voice shook as she spoke. The two tributes, you and Haymitch.

#the hunger games x reader #the hunger games #yandere!hunger games #haymitch abernathy x reader #yandere!haymitch abernathy #yandere!haymitch abernathy x reader

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