Pairing: Gale x OC
Rating: M
Chapters: 43/70
Updates: semi-regularly monthly-ish (active now!)
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Emerald Bellona’s life has never been her own. Born in the shadow of the Capitol, she was only six years old when her mother, beloved District 1 victor Amethyst Alexander, died of a morphling overdose. “An accident,” they called it, an inexplicable tragedy. But even then, Emerald knew the truth—her mother just couldn’t take it anymore, couldn’t bear the weight of being one of the Capitol’s darlings.
Ten years later, Emerald’s time has run out. It’s a moment she’s always known was coming. As the child of a victor who dared to take her own life, it was never a question of if Emerald would go into the Games, only a matter of when. After a lifetime of training, she thought she'd be ready.
But no one is ever truly ready for the Hunger Games, and no one prepares you for what comes after. As the final canon sounds, Emerald is faced with a chilling truth—the Games never end. When you’re one of the Capitol’s darlings, you never get to leave the arena.Â
To escape her mother’s fate, Emerald has to fight like hell in a war she never saw coming—a war that will take her from the arena to Victor’s Village, from the Capitol to a bunker in a district that isn’t supposed to exist. A war that will teach her that new beginnings can be found in the unlikeliest of places, like a steely-eyed boy from District 12.
Tribute. Victor. Rebel. Soldier. The Capitol’s Jewel is told in four parts that tell Emerald’s story from her beginnings in the 72nd Hunger Games through the Second Rebellion.
Updates, mood boards, previews, misc. asks, and ramblings about the fic can all be found on the tag, here!Â
My ask box is always open! Feel free to stop by and chat :)
Summary: You agree to watch Eri for your older brother Shouta while he's out of the country on a mission. He forgets to tell you about the hot young man—Shinsou Hitoshi—currently living in his basement. Life is full of surprises.
AN: this is a late birthday gift for @southsidewrites <3 part one proper should be posted sometime in the next week, I just really wanted to include this brief scene from Shouta's POV.
Warnings:Â naked encounters, sorry you're an Aizawa now but blood relation isn't mentioned, part two and three will lean towards smut
Chapters: Prologue | Part One | Part Two| Part Three
Shouta knows he isn’t being subtle as he checks his phone again.
There are dozens of case files spread across the coffee table in front of him. Folders are stacked on top of each other, piled annoyingly high. He’s supposed to be reviewing a series of criminal profiles with varying degrees of redacted text, but by the fifth document he could already feel a headache building behind his eyes. At least, that’s the excuse he’s been giving himself as to why his attention keeps slipping back to his phone, face-up on the table and partly wedged under a folder as thick as his arm.
From the right angle, he can see the newest notification that pops up each time the muffled vibration from his phone cuts through the silence. Even he can tell he’s been a little too interested in the random notifications. Usually, he doesn’t pay any attention to social media, and he has a special ringtone for any messages on the Hero Network, so he’s never been in the habit of checking his messages like a teenager. If he was a student, he would have scolded himself by now.
What’s worse is that he knows that Hizashi has been pretending not to stare at him for the better part of an hour. He’s been sly about it, glancing over the top of his book whenever the phone vibrates and trying to catch a glimpse at whatever notification has popped up, but not sly enough that Shouta hasn’t noticed his increased interest and the stupid smirk on his face that he’s trying to hide.
As if on cue, the phone vibrates again, rattling the folder on top of it. Instinctively, Shouta leans forward to get a better look at the screen. In a bid to seem less suspicious, he grabs his coffee mug off the table and takes a slow drink as he glances at the notification lighting up his phone. It’s from Fwitter.
When did he even set up Fwitter notifications?
On the other side of the coffee table, Hizashi snorts.
Shouta stares over the rim of his mug with what he hopes is the unimpressed glare that usually makes his students shut their mouth before they can shove their foot in it. Unfortunately, Hizashi isn’t one of his students.
“It’s barely been twelve hours,” Hizashi reminds him suddenly. “I bet they’re having an awesome time together, and nothing bad has happened.”
He sets his mug down a little too hard. Coffee sloshes over the rim and drips down the side. “I know,” he grinds out from between his teeth, silently cursing Hizashi for his phrasing. Why would he say it like that? “I’m not worried.”
“I’m just saying. It’s perfectly normal to be nervous about leaving Eri for an extended period of time. This is the first time you’ve been gone for more than forty-eight hours since the adoption went through, right? And just because your sister is totally awesome and will do a fantastic job babysitting, that doesn’t mean you aren’t—”
“I’m not worried,” he says, cutting off Hizashi’s attempt to psychoanalyze him. So what if he’s been keeping an eye on his notifications just in case his sister has a question, or Eri calls because she’s had a nightmare? He’s not paranoid, he’s just being vigilant. He’s a pro hero. It’s his job.
“Sure.”
His phone lights up with another notification, but he forces himself not to look at it. “I’m not.”
“Okay.” The corner of Hizashi’s mouth twitches like he’s trying not to laugh.
“Stop that.”
“I’m not even—”
The phone vibrates suddenly. The stack of paperwork on top of it shakes. Instinctively, Shouta glances at the notification that pops up.
It’s not Fwitter this time.
He barely registers that the little icon next to the notification is the one for his personal messages before the phone is in his hand and he’s swiping to open the text. He scans it quickly, deflating when he sees that it’s nothing important.
According to his sisters, he’s mastered wearing a distinctly apathetic expression, but it must’ve cracked slightly in his haste to grab his phone, because Hizashi puts his book down and leans across the table. “Something wrong?” he asks, craning his head to see the text.
Shouta exits the app and closes his phone before the other man can see anything. “No,” he says as he places it face-down on the coffee table. “It’s just Mindjack.”
“Oh, right! He’s covering your patrol route this week! Anything interesting happen tonight?”
He only bothered to give the report a cursory glance, but it wasn’t long by any means. Hitoshi isn’t exactly known for having long-winded reports, but he is thorough. “If you think a couple of drunks picking a fight in an alley is interesting, sure.”
Hizashi hums. He shifts in his seat, probably reaching for his book again, but pauses. Shouta glances at him and though he notices the funny look on Hizashi’s face, he turns back to the files he’s supposed to be reviewing.
“Speaking of Hitoshi,” starts Hizashi, who waits for Shouta to look at him before he continues, “did you remember to tell your sister about him?”
Shouta freezes in his seat, hand hovering over his coffee mug. He’s pretty sure his eyes widen almost comically as he thinks back to the conversation he had with his sister earlier today. It was brief. He didn’t have a lot of time before he left her with Eri and hopped on the plane for this mission. Did he tell her about Hitoshi? He mentioned studying, bedtime, feeding the cats, emergency contacts…
“Shit.”
With a groan, he leans his head back against the couch and pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and finger. He hasn’t had enough coffee yet to deal with this.
“You didn’t tell her?”
He cracks open one eye to glare at Hizashi, who’s staring back at him in obvious bewilderment. “I forgot.”
“You forgot?” Hizashi’s voice pitches up an octave, making Shouta wince. “She’s going to freak out if she sees some strange man come out of the basement!”
Glancing at his phone, he mulls over his options, considering the time difference and the likelihood of his sister answering the phone. “I’ll call her in the morning,” he decides. Hizashi opens his mouth like he wants to protest, but Shouta cuts him off. “It’s late there. She’s probably already asleep. Besides, chances are they won’t even run into each other. They’ll be fine until tomorrow.”
It’s less than an hour later when Shouta’s phone starts to ring. At some point, he forced himself to stop looking at it every thirty seconds, and he lost track of it beneath all of the files. It takes a moment of shoving folders aside, and by the time he digs his phone out from beneath the mess of papers spread across the table, he’s missed not one, but two calls.
The phone starts vibrating with a third immediately.
yamakuzure [pro hero!todoroki touya centric] || Playlist
➤ “I climbed a mountain and I turned around, and I saw my reflection in the snow-covered hills...”
brother gerard way // fire special explosion // basic instinct the acid // creep radiohead // all these things that i've done the killers // the new great depression the moth & the flame // atmosphere joy division // i see fire ed sheeran // arsonist's lullaby hozier // warm shadow fink // i bet on losing dogs mitski // wax roseville // clearing ruby haunt// easy hovvdy // leechy downward // snow globe long beard // look on down from the bridge mazzy star // hello goodbye waveform* // small things ben howard // scott street phoebe bridgers // miserable light foyer // repeat until death novo amor // you are a memory message to bears // landslide the japanese house
Crushing the sad, wet, paper cup, Emerald tossed it in the trash on her way out of the room. She was getting really fucking sick of Plutarch’s speeches, especially when they started to sound more like lectures. She stormed into the hallway, determined to head back to her room and not come out until dinner.
“Emerald, can we talk?”
The low voice brought her to a sudden stop—Gale. While he’d been in the infirmary, Haymitch had explained who he was and what his relationship was to Katniss. He’d also given her a lecture to rival the one he’d given Gale about why punching your allies in the face is generally not good practice for a successful revolution. He’d used more choice words, but she had gotten the point, even if she would never admit it.
The latest chapter of The Capitol's Jewel is available now on AO3!
I just found The Capitol's Jewel and wanted to say that I love it! I knew at the start that it wasn't completed but as I ravenously devoured the story I definitely forgot until rudely, all of a sudden, AO3 no longer had a "next chapter" button ;-; I was not a district one fan previously but the backstory and way you wrote the victors converted me and even got me to cry a few times - curse you (affectionately)! Can't wait for your next update!!
Aw, this is so sweet! Thank you so much!! I'm so glad you're enjoying it and falling in love with District 1 with me.
So, I'm finally watching Journey to Bethlehem (Bible musicals are basically my most special of special interests), and uh.....well, at least Milo Manheim is cute.
She fought to keep her breathing slow, steady. There would be cameras catching them from every angle, giving not only Panem, but the other tributes, their first look at their newest opponents. If it was going to be her, she wasn’t going to show a single crack.
Xanthia dipped her hand into the big, glass bowl. It looked so empty with only four slips in it. When her gold-tipped fingers closed around a slip, Emerald’s breath caught in her throat.
She lifted the slip, unfolding it and leaning into the mic. “Cashmere Sterling!”
The crowd didn’t seem to know what to do. At first, there was silence, and then, a roar.
Screams and cheers hit the stage like a wave as Cashmere walked forward, her most perfect smile plastered to her face as she waved.
Emerald’s heartbeat slowed, and the world seemed to slow around her. Her gaze flicked across the stage to the men, to Gloss. He was smiling, cheering and clapping along with everyone else, but his blue eyes were shiny.
When the crowd sounds dimmed, Xanthia reached back into the bowl. “And now, the gentlemen!”
Her vision blurred as her gaze flicked between Gloss, Valor, and Augustus.
“Gloss Sterling!”
This time, the crowd didn’t hesitate, bursting out in a raucous applause. Emerald’s gaze flicked to the crowd—she couldn’t bear to look at the Sterlings smiling and waving.
They were cheering, but they were crying, too. Screams and wails blended in with the cheers and shouts. They were clapping and waving their fists, determined to support their victors, but already mourning the fact that at least one of them wasn’t going to make it home.
The latest chapter of The Capitol's Jewel is out now!
Random rant incoming, but Christmas shopping for books (or shopping for books in general) feels like it's turned into such a moral test lately. Like, I *want* to support my local indie bookshop, but damn if their prices aren't twice as much as Amazon.
When he stretched too far, Gale could still feel the leather ripping into his skin. One sharp movement, and he was back there, his wrists tied to the post, his knees against the stones of the square.
The strangest part of it all had been that the first place he felt the pain wasn’t in his back—it was in his throat. The scream that had come out of him had been guttural, uncontrollable.
He’d told himself he’d take it like a man, that he wouldn’t show his pain, his fear.
He'd thought he could keep himself from screaming, but he had no idea what true physical pain was until the moment that whip ripped open his back.
When he pressed Thom for details later, he admitted that he was pretty sure he was unconscious at about thirty lashes. Thirty out of fifty wasn’t too bad, he supposed. Better than he did on most of the tests in school.
Of course, he wasn’t even sure if Thread even got his fifty in. It’s not like he could count. The thick, raw scars crisscrossed and blurred across his whole back, less distinct whip marks and more a tangle of uncountable pain.
He could have pressed Thom for the details, but he didn’t want to know, not really. It was probably for the best he’d passed out, all the better that he didn’t have to witness Katniss nearly getting herself killed for him.
The latest chapter of The Capitol's Jewel is out now!
I never expected to be in a position where I felt the need to make … Alisha Coddington needs your support for Bridge the Gap: Aid Alisha Un
Hi! I'm in a bit of a tough spot at the moment. My contract job fucked me over, my mental health has hit rock bottom, and last month I had to put my cat to sleep. I'm hoping to start a new job by the end of the month (fingers crossed!), but I'm woefully short on rent, bills (including an emergency vet + end of life care bill) Any help (including reblogging) is greatly appreciated right now. Thank you đź’ś
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
President Snow’s voice boomed through the speakers of Gloss’s television. “And now we honor our third Quarter Quell.” The boy opened the box, and the president selected the envelope with the number “75” marked in elegant script. “On the seventy-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the power of the Capitol, the male and female tributes will be reaped from the existing pool of victors.”
There was still noise coming from the television, but Emerald didn’t hear it. Her vision blurred, her body going limp as she fell into Augustus, a sob ripping from her.
Her mind seemed to leave her body, the sensations too overwhelming. She was sobbing, that much was clear, but everything else was a hazy blur.
They were supposed to be safe. They were supposed to be done.
Someone was shouting. There was a crash of glass shattering. A cup hitting the wall, maybe? Low voices were arguing. Someone else was crying. Augustus had left, sliding out from under her shaking form.
The door slammed, and then it slammed again. The noises started to quiet.
Then, there was shouting again.
The latest chapter of the Capitol's Jewel is out now!
