pairing: best friend!mark x gn!reader. word count: 1.4k. genre: fluff, best friend-to-lovers au. warnings: suggestive. steamy. did i say steamy?. synopsis: you and mark share a bedroom and he’s annoyed because you won’t stop ignoring him.
the wood-framed door slides shut.
you quickly glance up from the murakami you’re reading to see mark walk into your shared room, humming a familiar tune you heard him play on his guitar a few days ago. the floorboard creaks softly with every step he takes on the polished tatami mats as he rummages through the wooden wardrobe for, seemingly, a spare towel. a faint, fresh scent of after-shower floats throughout the room like the cherry blossom petals in the garden outside.
Genre : hp au, rivals to lovers, light angst to absolute fluff
Word count : 4.4K words | M.list
Warnings : injury, swearing
Summary : ‘He had nightmares of you slipping right past his fingers and him failing to catch you. He relives that moment.’
a/n: thank you for 1000 followers you absolute cuties!! sending lots of smooches and snuggles your way!!
“Aren’t you going to ask how the coolest champion is feeling about tomorrow’s match?”
You watched Donghyuck, your fellow housemate and best friend since you first stepped onto the Hogwarts train, expectantly. He spared you a quick glance as he plopped down beside you on the couch in your shared common room, too busy to munch on his chocolate frog to give you any further attention.
“I’ve already asked Mark.”
You would like to be able to say you were surprised at his answer, but his teasing character has become an usual by now
It still baffled you how you managed to even tolerate each other, much less get to share a bond as deep as the one you developed along the years. You two had next to nothing in common other than your cunning wit. While Donghyuck delved deep into his love for astronomy, which you despised with a burning fervor, you dedicated your time to Quidditch entirely.
You loved the sport dearly, it offered you that adrenaline rush you were born to chase, that quickened heartbeat as you rushed to catch the Golden Snitch. You spent every spare moment you could find in your hectic schedule on the pitch with the wind threading through strands of your hair and your hands clenched so tightly onto your broomstick your knuckles turn white. And you adored every second of that. But what you definitely didn’t adore was Mark Lee.
✧ author’s note — i am unsure as to why you would spend your christmas reading this heckin long fic, but in the case that you do, i hope that you enjoy reading it as much as i did writing it. it’s longest fic i’ve written thus far (though only by a hundred or so words) so happy reading <3 and i’ll see you around :D
jeno’s glad his mom’s asked him to go to the grocery store, a two minute walk away, to grab some eggs, a tub of sugar-free yogurt, and a breath of fresh air—the most welcome change of pace to his stuffy bedroom or the dust of the stale garage. he thinks he’s the first of his high school graduating class to arrive back in town for the winter but it’s here at the store that jeno sees you for the first time in years. his hand, the right one, clutching an empty basket goes limp and he’s two steps away from being fully unconcealed by the far end of the dairy aisle. surely, he must look like a creep with only his head peeping out.
it’s been years. your hair is now a faded silvery brown, presumably dyed, and gathered into a messy ponytail. the ends of your hair fight with the hood of your sweatshirt, a distilled blue and loose fitting atop a pair of gray sweats. and the basket, looped upon your left elbow, is as empty as his own but you’re overturning a can of condensed milk in your other hand, eyes scrutinizing the packaging for the expiration date, the later the better.
he would go and say hi, maybe even strike up a conversation, ask you how you’ve been, but he can’t bring himself to because he’s wearing that one bright green shirt from his seventh grade math competition that is certainly not up to your liking nor preference. really, it’s not that he thinks you’d judge him, knowing you, you’d probably get a good laugh from it and move on, but things have changed since then.
RULES share the first line of your most recent wip.
TAGGED BY @haribohyuck (your first line tho ekdjskdjdkndnd)
TAGGING honestly I have no idea who to tag @nakyngs ig you can do this with text fics??? @itzmklee @neocity-sarai you guys got anything to spill? @hyucksong um👉👈 maybe perhaps hyuck as cat noir???? yet??? @chocojaehyun ??? idk guys, do whatever you will with this tag ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ✧
‘eye for an eye’
“So,” Donghyuck scratches the back of his neck, “I’m supposed to be your fake boyfriend now?”
It’s something I’ve noticed over the past two years of using this site. It was gradual, imperceptible at first, something that most would brush off as a silly concern, or fault Tumblr algorithm for. While it’s true that Tumblr’s engine leaves a lot to be desired, I’ve noticed that even popular blogs have started to dwindle in terms of interaction or motivation. There could be a lot of reasons for this, but the biggest two I’ve noticed, experienced myself, and asked fellow writers about is this: (1) content being stolen, and (2) lack of feedback or interaction. I’ve never seen any logical person defend content being stolen, so I want to address point 2 instead.
Lack of feedback and interaction. I’m not saying this on my behalf so much as I’m saying this for friends and smaller blogs who have lost motivation to write. I was looking at my yandere writing blogs list the other day and noticed that a good majority of them no longer write. I usually update the list every few months, and by that point, more and more writers have stopped writing entirely. This isn’t a problem confined solely to the yandere fandom; in fact, there’s less writing blogs in general these days, especially ones that are active. I used to run a very popular BNHA blog with some friends, but that dissolved after our content was stolen and our followers stopped interacting as much. Out of our 8,500 followers, we hardly got 0.015% notes (~128 notes) on an average post. Tumblr is to blame for the lack of eyes seeing our posts, for sure, but that also means that at least 128 people saw one post and didn’t leave a comment or ask. We were considered a big blog; imagine what it’s like on a small blog.
My friend recently made a post that summed this up perfectly:
“I’ve seen people say “Be grateful that people even lurk on your page.” and, while I get the message they’re trying to say, it’s more dismissive and hurtful in my opinion. Like you’re saying, “Oh your writing is mediocre, you should be grateful people even LOOK at it.”
Me personally? I’ve heard the argument that AO3 is a better place to post fanfics, and while that might be true, I’ve had friends experience firsthand the lack of interaction there too. I’ve heard the argument that interacting with some writers is intimidating (me included). I’ve heard that argument that followers might be too shy to interact. I’ve heard the argument that writers should write for themselves and not for views / likes / reblogs / etc, and while that’s ideal, it’s not sustainable for everyone. What works for one writer won’t work for another, but you know what will? Interaction.
That comment or ask that took you 2 seconds to write? We remember it. That reblog with the compliments in the tags? We remember it. Every single ‘named’ anon we get (heart anon, sunflower anon, etc)? We remember them. And the best part is? It’s actually easier to do these things on Tumblr since you have the option to send anonymous asks or make a sideblog specifically for reblogs! Trust me, whether the lack of interaction is the cause of a lack of motivation or what have you, every writer appreciates feedback (don’t be shy to offer some critique or compliments) or even a simple keyboard smash with some emojis. Even sitting down for 5 min a day per week to comment on your favorite writers’ new pieces makes a huge difference. Personally, since Tumblr’s activity feed is beyond terrible and I have over 1,500 posts, I don’t always see new reblogs or comments on my content; asks though? Always see those, can never go wrong with those. If you don’t want to reblog or leave a comment, then you can never go wrong with an anonymous ask.
As my wise friend says: writing is an art, and in order to improve that art, we need other people’s eyes to see what we don’t.
For the sake of every writer (past, present, and future) on this platform, please share this post.
➥ characters: genderneutral!reader, mark, johnny, jaehyun, yuta, taeyong, haechan; to be added
➥ genre: apocalyptic!au (apocalypse based on the game “the last of us”), very much angsty, kind of action-y, sad, sometimes fluff
➥ warnings: violent themes, blood&gore (detailed depictions), gun use, mentions of killing/m*rder, mentions of s*icide, depictions of corpses, swearing, zombies ofc, i would like to guess that that’s it but please contact me if there is anything i need to add, and as always English is not my first language so if there are any errors, please excuse me!
➥ word count: 19.3k
➥ summary: every little thing you had, had been built and preserved in the pool of nothingness. and now, you lost it all.
➥ author’s note: !!PLEASE READ!! hoping after all this time that i’ve not posted this doesn’t get taken off the tags. after much thinking i decided to make this big story a series, because i’m pretty positive the overall product will be over 60k words. this is the 1st part and there will be 3 parts. to make it a bit more meaningful, i’ll be releasing the winter part now (in winter for where i live), spring part in mid-spring (possibly around april), and summer in again, around mid-summer. the playlist will also be revealed then. i am hungry for feedback, any and all is much appreciated! also, i’m not over tlou still haha fu-
there’s also going to be a taglist since the updates will be so slow, so please drop by my asks if you like it and i’ll gladly add you to the taglist!
➥ taglist: @nct-writers
i hope everyone enjoys this, have a great morning/day/evening/night!
Just read the Hunger Games au and it was so good! It's been a while since I read the books so it helped refresh my memory a bit, also Mark as Peeta YES!
Thank you so much for reading dear!!!! Yes!!!! The books are so good, mark as peeta is so quality that I had to frame it that way! I hope you have a good day :)
ur hunger games au was so good i loved it, i loved that you had jungwoo as primrose i cried when he died even though ik it was coming
Thank you so much for reading it!!! I lowkey thought it was gonna flop but like everyone’s reactions are really fun to read! IKR! Like older brother jungwoo 😭
☁ hunger games! au (assorted scenes: all films) reader x mark (as peeta mellark), reader x jaehyun (as gale hawthorne) , mentions of jungwoo (as primrose everdeen) and johnny (as finnick odair)
☁ alerts: angst, blood, violence, language, kissing, death
☁ song rec: i know places by taylor swift | exile by bon iver ft. taylor swift | carry you by ruelle ft. fleurie | the end of everything by noah cyrus
☁ this are choppy scenes that I found most encaptivating within the books/ films, make sure to go check out the series by Suzanne Collins! (for non-readers/ viewers, this might be hard to follow, so sorry!)
☁ thank you once again to @regularhuhhh for all the encouragement and inspo ily :)
+Scene 0: Introduction:
In the world you live in, Panem is a society that has been governed by the elitist families of the capitol and the district generals. Public disturbances are handled by peacekeepers- soldiers from the capitol sent by President Snow. There are 12 districts each known for mining, agriculture, and necessities that provide for the classes of those who sit on top of the caste system. Therefore, people in the lower districts didn’t have much. They survived on food scraps and flea market trades. Even so, every year, a boy and girl tribute would be selected to participate in the hunger games. A gruesome war game involving death, bloodshed, and violence all for the sake of entertainment for the elitists. It’s a cruel thing, to force children as young as 13 to compete in this killing game in order to please an audience of people they don’t belong in themselves. But that’s the order of President Snow. Everyone must do as he says, or death comes knocking on your door.
+Scene 1: INTERIOR. DARK CAVE -- NIGHT (74th HUNGER GAMES): “Stay”
Mark grunts back in pain, blood gushing from the wound that cuts the skin of his thigh. You help him scoot back to the wall of the cave, cutting away the loose fabric of his pants. His brows are scrunched in from the sting of his injury, hands fisting the dirt.
You grip your bow even tighter, snapping your dark eyes up at him, “Mark, I’m going out. You stay here, okay?”
Though he’s injured, Mark grabs hold of your arms, his grip tight, “No! You’re not going back out there!”
You freeze from Mark’s raised voice, eyes piercing the fire that burns an imprint into your soul. Then you shout, “You would do it for me! I’m not letting you die here.”
You take one good look at Mark. Mud is smeared all over his face, his black hair matted down on his forehead from his sweat and the humidity of the cave. Yet, his eyes still look warm. They remind you of the warm meadows back home, the view of the bright sun rising over district 12.
Mark’s eyes soften, his busted lips pursed, “Come here.”
You eye him skeptically, “Mark, I have to go. I saw some medicine by the cornucopia.”
Mark pleads to you, “Just..please stay. Stay with me.”
Giving up, you sigh. You set down your bow the prop against the cave wall, the smell of mildew and rainwater filling your nose. You search Mark for answers, only to find his hand tapping his chest, beckoning for you to come over. You lie down, placing your head onto Mark’s chest, your hand resting on his stomach. You feel him melt against you, his chin rested on your head.
He whispers lowly, “If I don’t make it-”
You clutch his shirt, gritting your teeth, “Don’t. Don’t say it.”
Mark stares up at the ceiling, halting his words. He doesn’t finish his sentence.
Waiting after 20 minutes, you check to make sure that Mark is sound asleep. Snores rumble from his chest, stirring when his wound pulses with soreness. Carefully, you raise your head off his body as you make way towards your bow. You’re off. You promised yourself that you’d keep Mark alive. You were going to survive until the end. You had managed to retrieve the medicine though you had run into Clove, an aggressive tribute from district 1. She managed to slice your cheek open with her dagger, right before you had shot her heart with your silver arrow.You never got used to that feeling- the loss of life. Death is always a reminder that humans are mere mortal, not godly beings who have the power to stay young forever.
Making your way back to the cave, you let out a sigh of relief when you push away the curtain of leaves to reveal Mark’s body slumped on the side of the cave, his eyes peacefully shut. His lashes extend over his eyes, casting shadows on his soiled cheeks. It looks like he hasn’t eaten in days. He spent all his time hiding from the other tributes or pretending to join them so he could protect you. He spent so long stalling Cato and Pepper, two aggressive tributes from district 2. They wanted to kill you off from the start, hungry for victory. You set down your bow again, screwing off the container lid of the antibiotic gel from the sponsors. Mark’s obsidian eyes flash open to the sound, eyes darting to the container of medicine you hold in your hands.
“You promised me you wouldn’t go! Agh-”
Mark winces from his sudden movement, causing you to push him back down lightly. You kneel beside him biting your chewed over lip, “I’m fine! I got the medicine.”
Mark leans back, eyes somber when he sees the bloody cut on your cheek, “You don’t look fine!”
You frown, swiping your fingers on your cut, “It’s just a scratch. I ran into Clove.”
Mark lets out a pained yelp in effort to move closer to you, his wound stopping him. He leans back on the cool surface of the cave wall again, gritting his teeth, “Why are you doing this when you can just save yourself?”
You stare at the ground, unable to meet his eyes. You’ve always been one to think with your head, not your heart. Logic over emotion. That’s how it’s always been. You gaze at him, the boy who had thrown you a loaf of bread, the one who shyly stole glances at you during choir class. You put a hair behind your ear, “Mark.. I just don’t want you to get hurt is all..”
Mark sniffles, moving closer to you despite the pain that shoots up his leg, leaving the cave wall so that he’s only millimeters away from your lips. He glances down at them, using his hand to caress your jaw before flicking his eyes up at you. You are in shock, heart beating faster than a million volts zapping through a telephone wire. In a quiet whisper, hushed, Mark swipes a tender thumb over your cheek, “Just kiss me, y/n.”
So you do. You kiss Mark like you mean it. You kiss him like you want him to live. He kisses you even though his leg is hurting but he can’t let go of you. He’s scared in his heart that he’ll watch you climb up to the cave entrance and you’ll be killed by some bloodthirsty tribute who he doesn’t know. He can’t bear to watch you leave that cave. He pulls you closer, your hands weaving through his matted locks and surprisingly, you don’t mind the earthy taste on Mark’s dry lips.
When Mark pulls away, he catches his breath.
You say, grasping the fabric of his shirt, “What was that for?”
He leans his forehead against yours, “I meant what I said during the interview. I’ve always liked you, just from afar. I just wasn’t ballsy enough to tell you.”
In confirmation, you peck Mark’s soft lips again, before taking one good look at him.
Mark takes your hand in his, his forehead rested on yours, “Don’t go out alone. Okay?”
You nod, “Let me help you. We don’t want your wound getting infected.”
You apply the ointment to his wound, causing his muscles to relax from the cooling sensation. He stares at you while you do it, memorizing every movement and every feature. He wants to know what it’s like to braid your hair and touch your face, how your eyes glint and darken in the shadows. He clears his throat, “You need some of that too.”
You shake your head, “I’m okay. I don’t need it.”
Mark doesn’t stop pressing, taking the container out of your hands without warning, “Let me then.”
You narrow your eyes at him, nearing close to him as he dips his fingers into the gel, swiping it on your cheek so that it glistens. You shut your eyes from the feeling, the feeling of Mark’s warm fingers on your skin. It sends shivers down your spine, opening your eyes to the sensation of Mark kissing the corner of your lip, “I know what you’re thinking. I can see it in your eyes. Don’t leave without me, okay?”
You nod, settling back down into Mark’s chest, sleep threatening to take your minds over.
+scene 2: EXTERIOR. 74TH HUNGER GAMES -- DAY: “Together”
You place your sharpened dagger into the palm of Mark’s hand, molding your fingers over his, “You have to kill me, Mark. You have to do it.”
Mark’s eyes widen as large as saucers, pupils darting back and forth between you and the weapon in his palm.
Mark shouts, “Y/n! Are you fucking insane?!”
Your legs tremble, your fingers shaking, “Don’t you see?! Only one of us can make it out of here alive! Only one of us can win!”
Mark cards his smudged hands through his hair, refusing violently, “You can’t ask me that y/n. I’m not killing you. You need to survive.”
The air feels suffocating, tears threatening to spill out from your eyes, “Don’t make this hard. I’ve already decided. It’s okay.”
Mark turns his back to you, throwing the dagger to the ground in anger. He raises his voice and it makes you stand where you are, words caught in your throat. He won’t give up. He can’t see that you’re trying to save him. If anyone’s going to live, it has to be Mark. It has to be him.
Mark looks over his shoulder at you, stepping closer. He nears you cautiously, calloused hands moving up to grip the side of your arms. You stare back at him, Mark’s eyes boring into yours. He uses his fingers to move a hair out of your face, scanning you for some sort of protest- some kind of sign.
Choking out, you whisper, trying to silence your sob, “Mark..”
He wastes no time pulling your body close to him, arms wrapped around your waist. His lips graze the shell of your ear, “Y/n, I’m not letting you die here.”
Your palm moves to the pad of your pocket, something firm in the depths of it. You dip your fingers into the pocket, pulling out small round balls that sit in your palm. Nightlock berries. Poisonous. Your mind flashes back to Fox’s dead body in the woods near the nightlock bushes, the purple juice smeared on her lips. Mark pulls away confusedly to look at your palm, his eyes blinking to register what it is. He hates the idea. You know because he scrunches his nose and narrows his eyes. But, it’s the only way.
“Don’t tell me…”
You split the cluster of berries in half, placing the other half into Mark’s palm.
He looks up at you with concerned eyes, “Y/n, there’s another way. We don’t have to do this and you don’t have to die. I can-”
“No! No, Mark. It’s both of us or none of us. I’m not killing you. This is our best option.”
Defeated, he sighs, playing with the berries with the pad of his thumb. Finally, he doesn’t argue with you. It’s because he knows the capitol won’t stop until one of you is dead. You wrap your fingers around his free hand, squeezing it, “Together, okay?”
Mark bites his lip, “Are you sure?”
You nod in confirmation, “On 3.”
Mark shudders under your touch, holding the berries up to his lips, “Together.”
In your heads, you count from 1.. Then 2.. And when you’re about to toss your heads back, the canon in the sky booms and it makes you and Mark snap your heads up.
“Tributes from district 12! Stop!”
+scene 3: INTERIOR. DISTRICT 13-- DAY (JOHNNY’S WEDDING): “Family”
District 13. The rebels have resided here ever since the Capital issued war on the districts. They burnt 12 to the ground. They killed everyone and destroyed your home with fire bombs, nothing left but ashes and death. President Snow. God, you hated the man. He kills everyone and everything that teems with life, making them suffer a slow and torturous death. To punish you, he turned Mark into a weapon. He took Mark from you during the quarter quell and hijacked him so that whenever he sees your face, he goes rabid. The fear in his mind takes him over every time, there is no soft, innocent glow anymore. The boy you see in that medical cubicle is not the real Mark. He is not the one who you love.
Snapping out of your thoughts, you’re transported back to Johnny and Annie’s wedding. Silly, isn’t it? To have a wedding during a war. It unifies people in the midst of the chaos yet the comfortability doesn't last long when you know Snow is alive. He will not stop at anything. You catch your mother and Jungwoo, your older brother dancing in the middle of the floor under the canopy that’s full of fresh flowers and foliage.
Jungwoo motions you over, a smile slashed on his lips as his bright, blond hair bounces whenever he twirls your mother around. She’s laughing too, she looks so happy that it pains you to know that you’re planning to leave. You have to make Snow pay for all the people he’s hurt. This meant Mark. He stripped Mark of his identity and altered his memories and it made you seethe in anger. Still, you enter the dance floor as you answer Jungwoo's call, taking his warm hand in yours.
You always thought that Jungwoo’s eyes are kind. Out of both of you, Jungwoo had always been the bright one. You always protected him. Your mother joined a circle with the other women, spinning their skirts in a circular motion to the beat of the claps and violin notes. Jungwoo sways with you, teeth gleaming between his pink lips, “What are you thinking about, y/n?”
You shake your head, faking him a small smile, “Nothing, Woo. Just, tired.”
“You should really get some rest. We have time before Coin mobilizes.”
You squeeze his hand, intertwining your fingers, “Woo, could I tell you something?”
Jungwoo raises an eyebrow, his voice floating out in a sing-songy tune, “What is it, y/n?”
Your eyes fall to the prim rose that is pinned to his simple suit, the ivory on the petals matching his hair.
You look at him, closing the gap to hug him, “I love you, you know? I need you.”
Jungwoo laughs, rubbing his hand down your back and patting your head innocently, “What’s gotten into you? Did someone put herbs in your drink?”
You snuggle deeper into the Jungwoo, holding him tight, “You’re my brother. I care about you. I just need you to know.”
Jungwoo giggles nodding, “You’re my baby sister. I’ll always protect you, you know that. Is something wrong?”
You muster a small smile, “Not at all. Not at all.”
Little did Jungwoo know, you’d be leaving him for the front lines in the morning.
+scene 4: INTERIOR. DISTRICT 13 --NIGHT: “Lies”
It’s the first time you’ve seen Mark since district 13 has taken you, Johnny, and Jaehyun. The capitol poached Mark, Johanna, and Annie like burglars, sabotaging a rebel plan to undermine their precious President. The last thing you remember is being told that Jaehyun volunteered to rescue Mark with 3 other soldiers from the rebel side. He was doing it for you. You knew that. You spot Jaehyun leaning by a wooden door, your heart pounding out of your chest.
Breathless, you inhale, “Oh my god, you’re okay.”
Jaehyun wraps his arms around you, embracing you tightly. You’re sure he presses a light kiss to the crown of your hair, “He’s inside.”
You detach from him, rubbing your thumb over the knuckle of his hand, “Thank you.”
He nods. When you leave him, he almost looks sad. He looks wilted. You rush down the hall, thanking the other soldiers who rescued the remaining victors. To your left, you spot Annie running to Johnny as he picks her up to kiss her. Johanna sits on her hospital bed, scoffing when you pass by. She looks different. She looks thinner, scars run lines all over her skin. What did the capitol do to them? You finally arrive at the last door of the hallway. There’s something in the pit of your belly that shakes your nerves. You’re hesitant. Is Mark really here in district 13? A soldier nods at you, opening the door for you to enter. It’s a glass window, space to view into the hospital room. That’s when you see him. Your heart absolutely drops. Mark sits on his hospital bed. His black hair is streaked with grey. His neck is inhumanely bruised with purple slashes. The dark circles around his eyes make it seem like he hasn’t slept in years. He’s different because the capitol tortured information out of him. And it breaks your heart. He’s hurting. Haymitch eyes you, your mentor ever since the first games.
“We’re lucky that Jaehyun got Mark out when he did. Otherwise, they would’ve all been dead.”
Mark sees you through the transparent glass, his onyx eyes absent of the boy who was once your friend, your partner- the part you loved. Gingerly, dressed in a hospital gown, Mark gets up. He treads on his toes, staring right back at you through the glass. You press your hand to the viewing window, hoping that Mark will smile and reassure you it’s alright. You want him to be alright. He doesn’t. He unleashes it all from within him. He screams at the top of his lungs, beating the glass with his fists. The fiber glass doesn’t break. But Mark’s changes scare you, causing you to flinch and trip backwards. Mark’s eyes are rimmed red, and spit is flying out of his mouth from his shouting. You had never seen him so angry. You’re so shocked you can’t register the words that shoot out of his mouth. Haymitch stands next to you, arms crossed. He doesn’t look surprised.
Haymitch sighs, “The capitol used tracker jacker venom on him. They used you as the image of fear to extract information and brainwash him.”
And you feel as if all the noise in district 13 fades into white static. All you can tune in is to Mark’s violent words. He’s screaming to you that you’re a liar and you’re a mutt- meant to kill for district 13. He screams how you’ll end up hurting Jungwoo and Jaehyun, and all the people you love. You take off running. Haymitch calls for you, but you can't hear his voice through the sear. It’s all in slow motion, and you can hear how your heart cracks inside of you.
At night, Mark’s taunts haunt you whenever you close your eyes. You sit up in your bed, unable to sleep. You want to see Mark’s face. You want to look him in the eyes. You’re desperate for any sign he still exists. Jungwoo seems to hear your rustling from the frame of the bunkbed, your mother sleeping in the bed next to you.
“You awake?”
You freeze at the sound of Jungwoo’s voice, tense.
“Yeah. Going to see him.”
Jungwoo sits up too, rubbing his eyes, “Mark?”
You sigh, “Yeah.”
Jungwoo watches you lace your shoes.
“I’m coming with you.”
You bite your lip, “Are you sure?”
“I can’t sleep either. Mind as well.”
“Okay.”
Jungwoo climbs down the ladder, putting on his own shoes. You’re both careful not to wake your mother, slinking through the empty halls of district 13. Jungwoo keeps pace with you as you glance at the empty hospital cubicles. It looks all too eerie. Finally you arrive at the last door one again. The corridor is lit by blue lights, casting a light blue glow on the tiles. Mark lies in his hospital bed, strapped down with leather belts. He stays unmoving, empty eyes pointed to the ceiling. And all you can do is watch him. Jungwoo watches him too.
“They must’ve really messed him up. I feel bad for him.”
You try to stop yourself from crying, “I know.”
Jungwoo sighs, “The doctors said they’re working on conditioning him. So that he gets better. He’s not gone forever.”
Jungwoo wraps a protective arm around you, allowing you to rest your cheek against his shoulder.
“I miss him. I miss Mark.”
Jungwoo rubs your shoulder with his thumb, just like he always does, “I’m sure he misses you too.”
You both watch Mark begin to struggle against his restraints, his cries of frustration reverberating against the white walls of the room.
+scene 5: INTERIOR. BELOW THE CAPITAL-- NIGHT: “Johnny’s Sacrifice”
---START OF FLASHBACK
Back in the quarter quell, meeting Johnny was unique to say the least. He was the tallest among the victors. Handsome, cocky, and his eyes always burned with a glare, a fire that is never stoked. He always glanced with a smirk on his pink lips, golden hair slicked in suave waves. Gleaming golden boy of the capita-- heartthrob from the violent, malicious hunger games. He was untouchable. Everyone showered him with praise and gold costumes, a trident that was fit for poseidon.
“Well, look who it is.. the infamous y/n. What an honor.”
You turn to face the man who stands behind you, his voice smooth like butter. You almost detest it.
“What do you want Johnny?”
Johnny moves his bang out of his eye, raising his eyebrow, “Nothing, darling. Just came over to pay my respects.”
You scoff at him, “I don’t think that’s the real reason why you’re here.”
You hear Johnny chew something, a sugar cube resting between the pad of his index fingers. He hums in delight, “You know, these sugar cubes are supposed to be for the horses but, they’re sweet on my tongue. Would you like one?”
Johnny hold out a sugar cube to you, his tongue swiping his lips. You mutter, “Stay out of my way, Johnny.”
“Hmm. You’ll regret not taking that sugar cube my dear. It’s a different playing field now.”
You adjust the itchy harness on your costume, watching Johnny toss you a knowing look over his shoulder, a sinister smile on his lips.
After the quarter quell, you had gotten time to know Johnny for who he is. His partner, Mags, an elderly woman, volunteered for Annie during the selection. Surprisingly, Mags had made it quite far. Johnny was always on his toes, eyes darting in between the trees, trident searing through the fallen foliage on the ground. He guarded her like her life depended on it, which it did. The killing games were no place for an elderly woman, especially one who couldn’t defend herself. When you and Mark had run into Johnny and Mags in the forest, a thick, musty white fog crept along the trees like a blanket of foggy acid- burning everything and everyone it could reach. But you didn’t know that until you reached out your hand. It was only until your skin started to bubble and you realized you were screaming in pain, it felt like you were being burnt alive. Johnny screamed at Mags to get on his back, her calloused hands wrapped around his neck and his shoulders. Mark ran behind you, his hand guiding along the small of your bag to almost push you to run faster. The fog was quickly catching up. You heard Johnny scream Mag’s name, crying out for her as you looked back behind you to see what was happening. You couldn’t believe it. Willingly, she walked into the fog herself- knowing there was no chance she could make it out of the games alive. She was slowing Johnny down and she loved him too much to do that. He crouched on a mound of soil, hands cradling his head as he cried. His sobs morphed into screams as the fog was beginning to consume him. You tear back in his direction, Mark begging you to wait but you don’t. Instead, with all your might, you drag Johnny eleven though his weight is too heavy. He lifts himself up with you, stumbling over his feet as the fog begins to burn the neck of your skin. You scream, tears forming in your eyes and it’s like you want to claw off the blistering texture but you can’t because it’s so painful. Mark comes bounding for you both, the fog burning his skin too. He lets out a pained sound, struggling to haul both of you.
With your last bit of strength, you, Mark, and Johnny attempt to bound through the forest, tripping over each other as you collapse onto the ground. The soil irritates your burns, causing you to grit your teeth. Luckily, the invisible barrier starts to glow white, the misty fog hitting against the barrier, blocking it from reaching you. You had crossed the border in time. You would’ve been dead. Still, it feels like your skin is being torched off and there's no end to the pain. That is until you see a glimmer of a reflection in front of you. Water. You drag your body, telling Mark and Johnny to do the same. The water begins to cool your skin and it makes you sigh, relief to the sear of the burns. You, Mark, and Johnny got lucky. You managed to survive.
---END OF FLASHBACK
In current time, the rebels have issued a plan to besiege the capitol. The game-makers run the capitol like it’s their own chess board, except it's another game of death. You, Johnny, Mark, and the others decided to move underground to be less visible and less chances of being attacked. Though, you should have known the game-makers would catch on quickly. Snow would stop at nothing to kill the mockingjay’s allies.
The underground chambers of the capital are basically the sewer system. You, Johnny, Mark, Jaehyun, and the others trudge in the darkness, reaching for the walls of the sewer chambers for balance. The air reeked of muddy water and mold, and whatever sludge that stuck to the bottom of your shoes. You lead the pack, Jaehyun hot on your tail and the others follow behind. That’s when you hear Cressida’s scream. You whip your head back, your eyes widened to the sight of Cressida firing into the darkness, sewer mutts launching themselves forward in waves.
She screams, “Go! Go! Go!”
You wade through the water as fast as you can, moving your legs with force. Your heart is thundering in your ears. You feel dizzy and your grip on your bow tightens. You hear someone else scream, Pollux’s brother is dragged by a sewer mutt, the smell of blood and garbage is making you sick. You keep running, Johnny trying to stay behind to help the man. It’s too late. Cressida urges Johnny to keep moving forward, he pushes Mark to move even faster. You scream at the top of your lungs, “Where the fuck are we going?!”
Jaehyun urges you on, “Don’t stop running! Just keep going!”
Your legs are starting to betray you. Still, you painfully dodge through a series of sewer tunnels, hoping that the game makers don’t send sewer mutts down your path. Finally, there is an exit chamber in the center lobby of the tunnels. The only problem is, sewer mutts pour in through each opening. They look like rabid dogs with no faces, just sharp, pointy teeth. You spot the middle platform that secures a ladder up to the exit hatch. Before you can even start grabbing the rungs, sewer mutts surround you. You load your arrow into your bow, shooting off fire bombs at the mutts. Some fall into the water with a screech. From your side view, Jaehyun is firing at them with his crossbow and Johnny’s busy using his trident to skewer their bodies. But where is Mark? You see Mark’s body is half submerged in water in an attempt to roll the mutt off him. In an immediate instinct, you make a running start and tackle the mutt off him, your body crashing into a current of sewer water. A mutt in the murks screeches underwater, grabbing ahold of your foot. You try to shake it off, running out of breath. It doesn’t budge. You reach behind you to grab your last spear arrow, driving it into the chest of the mutt as hard as you can muster. When it loosens its grip, sinking to the bottom of the trench, you feel a pair of strong arms lift you up. The arms drag you back onto the platform, it’s Mark. Before Mark can say anything, a mutt attacks him from behind, causing him to shout.
You scream, “No!”
You grab an arrow from your canister that’s strapped to your back, shooting a specialized arrow at the mutt, causing it to drop dead on the platform.
Mark sits up, shaking his head from the dizziness of being dragged around. He presses his hands to his eyes, gaining his breath. To your left, Cressida’s firing magazines at more mutts. There’s not time, there’s too many.
“Jaehyun, get out of here! Grab Mark! Cressida you too!”
Johnny yells to Cressida and Jaehyun, “I’ll cover for you!”
Jaehyun and Cressida waste no time. Cressida starts to climb the ladder upwards, Jaehyun picks Mark up with ease. Mark protests, “We can’t leave y/n here! Y/n!”
You scream back, fending more mutts, “Just go! I’ll be right behind you!”
You hear Jaehyun urge Mark to follow Cressida. He does. You motion to Jaehyun, “Keep going! We’ll be there!”
Jaehyun gives you a somber look, biting his lip. He follows after Mark, clipping his bow onto his back. While you watch Jaehyun and Mark, you don’t realize it when a mutt chokeholds you from behind, dragging with such strong force. You scream, causing Johnny to whip around.
“Y/n! I’m coming!”
Johnny swings his trident in a masterful move, injuring every mutt that comes from his left and right. Finally, he reaches you and stabs the mutt in the chest, lifting you before you can be submerged in the water again.
“Y/n! Are you okay?”
You gain your breath, “I’m okay. I’m okay.”
Water wets Johnny’s blonde hair, his trident in his hand. He extends a hand to you, “Go with the others. I’ll be right there.”
You’re surprised that the mutts haven’t attacked during your whole conversation. Instead, they're beginning to encircle both of you in a slow, surround formation. There’s no time to argue. You make your way to the ladder, glancing back at Johnny. He nods. He continues to swing his trident at the mutts that surround him. When you’re high enough, you call out for Johnny. He backs up into the ladder as he starts to make his way up. But then, a mutt pounces on him, causing him to lose his purchase on the ladder.
“Johnny! Johnny!” You scream, reaching your hand out to him. It’s too late. He falls into the water again, screaming your name. A swarm of mutts begin to swallow him up like a raging storm, you’re witnessing your friend be eaten alive. His scream is so violent, so painful. You cry out, screaming Johnny’s name over and over again. That’s when you remember the bomb that was built in case of emergencies. You unlock it, you say, “Nightlock. Nightlock. Nightlock.”
Dropping it down, It falls back down the ladder, fire exploding the platform and the pile of mutts that consume Johnny. You wouldn’t have wanted him to suffer. What will you tell Annie? How will you tell her that her husband, her child’s father is now dead? You climb up the ladder as tears stream down your cheeks, it makes your nose runny. Soon, Jaehyun lifts you out of the narrow shaft.
+scene 6: INTERIOR. DISTRICT 13 BUNKER -- NIGHT: “Drunken Kiss”
You lean your head against the sidebar of the ladder on your shared bunk bed. Air strikes continue to boom over district 13, causing people to murmur in worry. The capitol had launched a surprise attack on district 13. Luckily, Mark had warned Coin in time, though he’ll get punished for it. You yearn for his warm, calloused hand. You yearn for the crack in his voice, innocent and soft. His laugh reminds you of the summer time and his eyes are deep, just like you could fall into them. Your thoughts are disrupted by Jaehyun. The man plops onto the mattress next to you, his ears and cheeks reddened. He smells of liquor.
“Jae, have you been drinking?”
Jaehyun hiccups a little, a frown scribbled on his face, “What if I told you I was? Just a little. I was off duty.”
You playfully punch him in the shoulder, “We’re hiding in a bunker with all these people and you decided to drink now?”
Jaehyun narrows his eyes, running a hand through his hair, “Can you blame me? You’re being distant. It’s because he isn’t here, right?”
You freeze at his words, turning towards him, “Jaehyun..”
Jaehyun shakes his head, “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that. I sound so bitter.”
You watch him rub a hand over his eyes as if that will wake him up a little more. You scoot closer to him. He searches you for answers, he doesn’t find any. You take it upon yourself. You need a distraction. You grab his face forcefully, kissing him with faux fervor. Jaehyun scrunches his eyebrows, reciprocating the kiss before pulling you onto his lap. You feel him fold his lips over your bottom lip, hot hands running through your hair. Jaehyun moans into the kiss before detaching from you, shaking his head, “This is wrong.”
He knows you so well, he senses it. You swipe your hand to wipe your lips. Jaehyun sighs, “I’m the one who’s drunk but why does it feel like I’m sober?”
“What do you mean? I told you how I felt about you. I love you Jae, I just-”
Jaehyun’s eyes are disappointed but expectant, “You love Mark more. I felt it on your lips. It didn’t feel real.”
You’re taken aback by Jaehyun’s words. Yet at the same time, he knows. He knows. Tears begin to well up in your eyes, “I’m sorry. I do mean it, I care about you. I really love you.”
Jaehyun places his hand over yours before squeezing, “I know. It’s okay.”
Jaehyun lets go, cold air hitting your skin, “I should help Coin with night watch.”
And just like that, Jaehyun’s gone. Mark isn’t here. Jungwoo sits next to you instead, coming back from where your mother sits. He doesn’t say a word. He uses his hand to usher you to rest your head on his lap. It’s like somehow without saying, he knows. The bombs continue to shake the arsenal, and the lights start to dim in and out.
+scene 7: INTERIOR. SNOW’S MANSION-- DAY (AFTER THE ATTACK ON THE CAPITAL): “Goodbye Jaehyun”
“You never came to see me.”
You sit in your leather chair, your hands discarded in your lap. Everything runs through your mind in a series of black and white reels, the siege on the Capitol. You remember people dying in front of your eyes, bombs of fire exploding down from the sky. You remember seeing Jungwoo, your older brother as he tried to heave people away from the fires and the wreckage. His eyes looked so soft then. His hair blew in the smoke, ashes dusted on his cheeks. And then the blast happened. Everything became white, your eardrums bled with white noise. It made the bile in your stomach rise, your head shaking from the impact. Then, you woke up in Snow’s mansion.
Jaehyun enters the room, still dressed in his rebellion uniform. His head hangs low, eyes stuck on the carpet. He looks like he’s going to be sick.
He mumbles, tears forming in his eyes, “I wanted to. Trust me.”
“So, why didn’t you? Where were you?”
Jaehyun’s biting his lip so hard it bleeds red. He sniffles through his nose, tears running down his cheeks, “I.. couldn’t… I failed. I promised I would protect your family and I couldn’t do that.”
When you look at Jaehyun, the boy you’ve grown up with your entire life, you see him. You see your older brother’s face and it makes the knot in your stomach tangle itself even further. You see Jungwoo’s figure being consumed in the flames, unable to run- unable to escape.
You grip the armrest, nails digging into the leather fabric, “Were they ours? The bombs. Tell me Coin didn’t give the order. Tell me it was the Capitol. Tell me it was Snow.”
Jaehyun is silent. His eyes don’t meet yours. He plants his feet, not coming anywhere near to you. It’s enough to confirm his answer.
You ask, “Was it you?”
“I’m s-sorry. I-I’m so sorry.”
You remember Snow’s voice echoing in your head, Coin had manipulated district 13 into bombing capitol children to cause more deaths- unnecessary deaths. Jungwoo’s death. All the medics who were sent out to help civilians are dead too.
You scrape your nails along the leather, boiling with anger as tears threaten to spill out of the dam, “Goodbye Jaehyun.”
Jaehyun doesn’t hesitate to leave. He turns heel quickly, sniffling from his tears. Shutting the cedar wood door behind him, you’re left alone in the cold air of Snow’s desolate mansion.
+scene 8: EXTERIOR. DISTRICT 12 VICTOR’S VILLAGE -- DAY: “I’m Here”
Now that the war is over, Snow and Coin are dead. Two people who craved power, now killed by the mark of the people- it’s a sign of freedom. It’s a symbol for the breaking of the chains that dictatorship has placed upon Panem. There was only one thing left to do. You didn’t want to stay in the Capitol, not to live a rich life now that you’ve lost your brother. You’ve lost Mark and Jaehyun. Effie and your mother promised they would help the other council members rebuild. So, you and Haymitch took the train home. Or, at least whatever was left of district 12. Haymitch takes the house next to the victors’ manor, just as he had during the games. No flowers grow in the garden anymore, the dirt mixed in with ash and soot. The sky is grey and it makes your heart all the more heavy. You must clear your head. You grab your canister of arrows and your bow, heading off to the meadow by the woods. It’s different, walking the path alone. The sun sets over the horizon just above the tip of the mountains. The world is so vast, you can’t but help wonder what’s out there.
Running among the trees, foliage brushing your skin makes you feel free. The light shines through the leaves, it’s warm. It’s like Mark. It feels like your brother’s smile. It feels like Jaehyun’s touch. You run as far as your legs can take you, your grip tight on your bow. At the bottom of the hill, you spot a stag along with a baby deer grazing on overgrown grass. You sit on a rock for a while, watching the stag and the baby. You have no intention of hunting it. It hasn’t done anything to harm you, there’s no reason to take it’s life. You’re tired of it, watching death. The tears just come bursting like a dam. You scream for your brother, you miss Jungwoo the most. You miss his gummy smile and the way he’d cling to you, the way he’d comfort you when things have gone bad. The more you think of Mark’s name in your head, it causes you to break even farther. Grief is a sad, bone-crushing weight. The stag and the baby deer are long gone.
Walking the dirt path out of the woods is lonely. The sky thunders a little, it might rain. There’s nothing but trees, grass, and daisies that grow on little stems in between the rocks. By the time you make it back to the victors’ village, you assume Haymitch is either in the shower or sleeping. But that’s when you stop. A figure is hunched over by the garden, a figure whose back is turned to you. Black hair shines under the gold sun. It can’t be. You drop your bow and your canister of arrows to the ground.
“Mark?”
And he’s right there. Mark turns around, slapping his soil-covered hands together. He stands up, eye-level to you. And he smiles so much that his teeth show, “Y/n.”
You waste no time pulling him in for an embrace, inhaling his mint scent. You feel like you could cry, thinking you had lost him forever. Mark keeps his hold on you, “I’m here now. I’m sorry for keeping you waiting.”
You shake your head, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. Mark detaches from you, wiping your tears with his thumb, “I’ll be right with you. I just need your help to remember, yeah?”
You nod, understanding that Mark hasn’t fully recovered from the tracker jacker venom. Mark takes hold of your hand, ushering to crouch beside him. He places your hands on top of a dirt mound, using his own hands to press it down.
He smiles, “I found some yellow daisies by the forest. Jungwoo really liked these, right?”
You stare back at him, eyes widened. You nod in confirmation. You waste no time to press a chaste peck to Mark’s dirt covered cheek, “Thank you.”
Mark giggles, his cheeks moving upwards as he grins.
The next few months are peaceful. You, Mark, and Haymitch eat dinner together every night in the manor. When there are rainy days, you open the front door, your back against one side of the door frame and Mark on the other. The glow of the rain illuminates the shine in Mark’s eyes, laughing as he sticks his hand out in the rain. The sound of Haymitch playing the piano thrums in the background as you continue to watch Mark smile at the rain, flicking some water at you. In the night, you toss over and over in your bed. So, you grab your candle holder and tread in the quiet of the dark to Mark’s room. He lies on the mattress spread out, eyes peacefully closed. The sight makes your heart beat slow. You set down the candle on the night stand, removing the covers so you’re able to slip in by Mark. Automatically, he wraps an arm around you, a small noise slips from his lips. Half asleep, Mark asks, “You love me, real or not real?”
You answer him, softly, “Real.”
It causes Mark to face you, rolling over, eyes fully open. He reaches his hand up to caress your cheek, only illuminated by the soft light of the candle, “I love you, y/n.”
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