and many graces. the hunger games, m, peeta/katniss. (2 / 3). 18k.
On screen, a dead version of him kisses Katniss on the forehead, looking at her with such gentleness that he can almost feel it in his chest. “We tried to take care of each other,” he says, softly. “Sometimes.” “Sometimes,” Haymitch echoes. “When you weren’t trying to kill each other.”
What Peeta holds onto when he loses everything else, and what he finds after. (Or: Peeta hijacked, Peeta rescued, Peeta recovered.)
i thought you would pretend you don’t know me or something. i’m not drunk. no? no.
make no mistake, I am well aware I am projecting onto both Ekko and Jinx like hell, I know...
and yet.
can't stop thinking about them.
like, imagine how he would cope with her loss. it's not that hard, there are some truly amazing fanfiction works that are exploring that topic, I am just offering you my spin, my musings that I keep leaving here instead of sitting down and writing my own fanfic.
how would he cope?
first, of course, comes the shock. just... an exhale, his chest caving in, hands trembling, tears ready to spill onto his cheeks —
and then - slam! — an imaginary metal wall drops down on him, cutting all feelings off, as if they are buzzing behind it, but Ekko can't access them anymore.
he needs to work. do something, solve something, save her someone, at least...
so he works.
there goes denial. there was no body, she may be alive, there was no body, so maybe she didn't suffer long when she died. he is fine, he is fine, he is fine, there is so much to do in Zaun, clearing out the streets, cleaning, burying, mourning, treating the injured, supporting others, overseeing the works, playing with kids, designing, inventing, building — he is freaking fine, there was no body found, so he's fine, he has no time to stop, he'll rest later, later because there's not anyone he can truly share the load with...
of course, they fucking took her from him.
of course, she fucking left. left Vi, left Sevika, damn her, left him.
she fucking left him.
alone.
to fend for himself — and everyone and everything else.
she stayed, she fought alongside him, she tinkered, ate, slept next to him — and still fucking left him!
alone!
again!
— so there comes anger
and makes everything even worse.
[tbc.]
okay ive thought about it and now I can't avoid wanting to just sit down and write these two fanfics where Jinx just wants Ekko to look at her, and Ekko wants her to touch him
nothing explicit, sadly, because I am unable to write it
but yeah, they both yearn af, and neither of them likes it
gonna be a wild ride
experiencing the hunger games renaissance through twitter for the first time is so beautiful
so I did a thing
experiencing the hunger games renaissance through twitter for the first time is so beautiful
Guzmán and Nadia in Élite S3E7
Ekko's entire story is loss, grit, dying-but-never-dead hope, and pain.
He loses his parents, his found family, his best friend, his aspirations, and life he might have wanted for himself, he loses people to Shimmer and Silco left and right,
he loses hope to get Powder back.
he tells everyone - and himself most of all, - how much Jinx is irredeemable and beyond saving, how she should be stopped, but he can never do it.
but why? why can't he ever let go of Powder?
oh, only because of what was and what could have been. all the dreams and nightmares of the past he has, all his daydreams that flood his brain whenever he's too exhausted to fend them off - they all include her (Powder, Jinx, doesn't matter, really).
only because she knew him inside and out one day. this bond that stretches across years, persists and festers for all it could have been but is not.
it's the only love that stayed from that glossed-over, barely remembered childhood - and even this love is warped, poisoned, stomped at,
always dying, never dead.
she is the only tether to his soft years. the only living proof it was real. she is his person, his... kismet, the worst blessing, the best enemy.
she stole what they could have had from him, she killed his friends, she tried to kill him - and somewhere deep down it never mattered.
and why would it?
Powder became a story. a symbol. just a dead girl who used to be his closest friend, the one he showed all his findings and inventions to, the one who knew all his secrets -
the one who left him. abandoned him. like he was nothing - when he felt in his bones: he was her person, too.
so Powder became a story, a memory, a wound, and stories never die, and memories fade, and wounds that are scratched open again and again, never heal.
if you resent and hold a grudge against someone, yet keep missing them as you remember them, as you could have known them and had them in your life - how can you let go? how can you forget?
replaying all the memories over and over, thinking what you could have done differently -
and he has to hurt his person. over and over, and over again. swing at her, hit her, plan to destroy her.
can you imagine the anguish? the pain? the powerlessness to change anything?
every time raising his fist means adding one more haunting memory to his cognitive dissonance. the girl he loved, the girl he misses, the rabid maniac with a gun who wears her face - lies, lies, he knows her inside and out still, and it is painful and hopeless, and he can't quit remembering, missing and daydreaming.
he hurts and hopes and loses, and loses, and loses - her and his life as it was with her in it.
he loses again.
but it's not about a girl, per se.
their love has always been life-affirming and full of joy and admiration first. romantic love came later.
it's about their life that crumbled in their palms.
fighting like playing, trying to kill only to have a chance to get closer because everything else is forbidden.
*
nothing is as haunting as a life never lived,
and a love never explored.
and they were both to each other.
they were trying so hard to pretend they didn't give up, pretend they are only adversaries, and only the bad blood ties them to each other.
they succeeded, but only just.
love never lived, life never shared. the closest soul turned enemy.
that is their tragedy.
oh yes, i am
frothing at the mouth over Ekko, that is
Ekko's got to be some ultimate form of wish fulfilment. He could be in love with anyone! And he falls for his less then stable, childhood best friend, turned enemy, come terrorist, ender of multiple friends, bringer of shimmer, nightmare of a mobster's daughter instead! You just knoooow all the girlies who think they're unlovable, too much trouble are frothing at the mouth over him.