The Cost of Victory | Jung Hoseok x Reader
a/n: Hi! This is an au that my bestie and I have been developing @livingformintyoongi , so if you enjoy it, please like it, reblog it and comment, this helps me to keep going <3
Genre: Angst, Romance with touches of Fluff and Survival, The Hunger Games AU.
Warnings: Violence, strong language, mention of death.
Oc: Chaeyoung, she's Hobi's friend, and maybe something more to Yoongi (If you want the lore of that, read "To Love and Protect")
Y/N knew that what they were doing was more than just a game; it was a way for the Capitol to show who was in charge and who should bow their heads. She hated it, really hated it, and she was tired of living under their rules.Â
After many years, she finally had someone to fight for. She had lost all ties since her gamesâher brother, her motherâkilled by those horrible people. When she won, she hadn't even imagined her fate, ending up as a simple puppet to entertain those people. It disgusted her.Â
She was forced to grow fond of the tributes only to see them die. They were just kidsâdamn, she had been their age when she won her games. The vision hurt like a thousand hells, especially when she remembered that she wasnât much older than they were.Â
The only company she had had over the years was Yoongi, a boy who had won a year before her. She had managed to win thanks to him and his strategy, and she had been lucky to know a side of him different from what he had become.Â
He had done everything he could for her to win, but now, almost nothing remained of that Yoongi. The loss of the following tributes had killed him slowly and, in turn, brought him closer to alcohol.Â
The young man was an alcoholic, well-known by everyone in District 12. More than once, they had seen him stumble or wander the streets. Everyone thought the reason for his state was the extravagant amount of money he had won, that being rich had clouded his judgment.Â
But she knew the truth. Death wasnât easy to face, it never was, especially if you were the one who caused it. They had both killed more than what was considered normal, it was for survival, but nightmares didnât distinguish reasons.Â
Two broken people having to give hope to other tributesâwhat a joke from the Capitol. She did what she could while Yoongi got lost in drinking, until that day came. She dressed for the worst day of the year. Even though she couldnât be reaped again (another lie from the Capitol), she trembled as if she could.Â
She sat on that stage, pretending not to be as broken as she was. From the corner of her eye, she could see Yoongi nodding off; alcohol always made him drowsy, but she preferred that to the embarrassment of last year, when he had fallen on live TV. Hyori, the District 12 presenter, had complained about it endlessly.Â
The aforementioned woman took the papers from the jar. She lowered her head, not wanting to see the faces of those who would die this year. She had tried more than once not to remember their faces or names, but of course, the brain was the most intriguing organ in the body; it never listened to what its occupant wanted.Â
Soon, Hyori turned to her. The woman loved following etiquette and rules, which meant she would be offended if Y/N didnât greet the tributes. She could already hear her: "What a lack of decorum, I thought I had taught you better."Â
She stood up as Hyori had taught her, in the most elegant way she could, although it was hard when her mind screamed that this was nonsense, and that as the hunter she was, she would only make more noiseâdifficult habits to break if you asked her.Â
She walked toward them, the first thing that caught her attention was the girlâs hairâit was a fiery orange color, like fire, reminding her of the bonfires she had made during her games. It certainly stood out, and her eyes, green like the emeralds her father had once brought (stolen) from the mine when she was just a child.Â
She shook her hand, then moved on to the male tribute. She almost cursed herself when she did; he was so beautiful it took her breath away. He stood almost a head taller than her, his eyes so warm she could have melted in front of him. His heart-shaped lips, so soft, made the idea of kissing him seem impossible to resist.Â
His delicate hands, so soft, it was clear he had never had to work near the mine. Who knew, maybe he worked as a baker. She had heard somewhere that there was a bakery near the Veta. She couldnât remember ever feeling this way before. The more she looked at him, the more tempted she was to write an ode to his profile.Â
She shook her head; she needed to get away from him. It was dangerous. If she got attached, she would die insideâthat was obvious. Falling in love brought trouble for people like her. When she tried to shake his hand the same way she had with the girl, he stopped her, gently taking her hand, bowing, and placing a soft kiss on it. From that moment on, she knew it: she was screwed. How could she let someone like Jung Hoseok die?Â
After that, everything was a blur. She couldnât remember the things that had happened in their games. Damn, she didnât even remember why Yoongi had decided to stay sober in the first place. It was like the presence of the Jungsâbecause yes, the girlâs name was Jung Chaeyoungâhad stirred something in them, as if their hope had been renewed.Â
But when dealing with people like Seungri Snow, you could never win or gain an advantage. The man had always hated it when the participants showed more intelligence than the government. When the young Jungs won, they upped the stakes and challenged the very foundations of the game.Â
Two winners, to make matters worse, two intelligent winners. It was a death sentence for anyone who had been involved with them. It was no surprise to anyone when, during the 75th anniversary of the games, the consequences of their actions were announced.Â
The games would be held with the former victors, but to make matters worse, they decided to double the number of tributes this year. It was clear that Seungri knew how involved Yoongi and she were in making those two win, but now, with his little trick, everyone would have to pay.Â
She leaned her head on Hoseok's shoulder. The arena was nothing like what they were used to; the jungle was not something common in her district. In fact, when she saw water hitting her platform, she had wanted to cry.Â
It was obvious who they wanted as the winner: that little boy from District 4, who had won at the tender age of 12. Despite his sweet appearance, the boy had annihilated everyone thanks to his swimming skills, and he had also obtained what was considered the biggest sponsorship in the games, the trident he now held in his hand.Â
Her boyfriendâbecause yes, over the months, he had become her boyfriendâgently caressed her arm. She had learned over time that the boy liked to treat her with extreme delicacy, as if he could truly see all the broken parts of her, and couldnât conceive being the cause of more cracks.Â
"When we get home, I want us to have that dance you promised me," he whispered in her ear.Â
She laughed softly, knowing he said it to calm her down. She knew him well enough to know that the idea of competing in these games terrified him, and the possibility of going home distracted him a little, even if it was impossible.Â
"Weâll have it, donât worry, pretty boy. When you least expect it, weâll be home." She kissed his cheek, believing every word.Â
He placed his hand on her cheek, looking at her intensely, almost as if he knew all the secrets she kept. "Promise me you wonât do anything stupid to save me."Â
She made a face, unable to avoid it. She wouldnât promise something like that. He was now her whole life. Losing him would be like dying with him. So, in reality, her life had no value without Hoseok by her side.Â
"Do it," he insisted, while resting his forehead against hers. "You have to do it. I donât think I could live without you." He complained like the child he truly was because, at 19, one couldnât really be an adult. The desperation in his eyes hurt her.Â
But she couldnât promise something like that, so she did the only thing she could think ofâshe kissed him. She kissed him as if it were the last kiss of her life, as if that was the only thing she needed to breathe, as if there were no cameras or tributes around, as if it were just the two of them on that beach.Â
He clung to her waist, unable to refuse the show of affection. He had never been able to say no to her. There had always been a competition between them about who was more devoted to the other, who would set the limits. But they were always willing to do more for each other. She had no idea how far Hoseok was willing to go to live, just for and with her. Nor how prepared she was to kill anyone who dared to even approach him.Â
With that promise (to live and kill for each other) in mind, they had come to what could very well be the end of the games. Only those with whom they had formed an alliance remained. Satisfying the Capitol had been difficult, but now, with a possible rebellion on the way, it would all have been worth it.Â
Yoongi took his katana. Despite all the time that had passed since he had used it, it was as if time had never passed. He approached the girl with determination, getting just a few meters away from her. They would end this, and they would do it as quickly as possible.Â
Y/N could hear the screams of Hoseok and Young, desperate to intervene, being held back by the other tributes at the corner of the beach. This had to end, but not before giving them a show worthy of those who had caused this torture.Â
She raised her axe, ready to fight with her long-time companion and ally. It was finally her moment. She had waited for this eagerly. She looked at him. Yoongi frowned in concentration. He almost smiled with excitement, winked at her as subtly as he could. After all, this was just a distraction. Who would notice someone as small and elusive as Jimin when there was a battle like this?Â
(Banners of @cafekitsune)
