#fucked up brocedes hg au
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For powerful em's powerful birthday month, a few vignettes from fucked up brocedes hg au. Thank you for bringing your wonderful, kind, generous self to everything you do in fandom! @powerful-owl
The chariots race by, spewing fireworks and glitter. The procession is headed by the blonde Career that was supposed to volunteer for Nico’s Games. All of the bookies are already saying he’s going to win. The Games are going to be boring with those odds.
Nico wrinkles his nose and squeezes Lewis’s hand tightly. He flicks his hair behind his ear and straightens his posture. The video screens cut to a technicolor image of him and Lewis sitting side by side in the front row with the rest of the victors. Lewis looks beautiful and deadly in artfully bloodied scraps of lace and leather, and Nico looks embarrassingly like a dessert, decked out in cherubic feathers. Everyone cheers. For Nico and Lewis and for the new tributes—twenty-four teenagers that are slated to die on film.
“Are you booked after this?” Nico says, turning his mouth towards Lewis’s ear.
“Yeah,” Lewis murmurs, looking ahead. “I’m some old fuck’s date to the afterparty.”
Nico knew that. He feigns surprise anyway. “Weird. So am I.” Lewis rolls his eyes, but Nico can feel the tendons in his arm jumping underneath Nico’s palm. It’s funny, Nico thinks, how Lewis has been at this a handful of years longer than Nico, and he still reacts to every little injustice like a knife to the gut.
Nico laughs a little to himself, and Lewis shoots him a weird, sidelong glance, rubbing his thumb along the inside of Nico’s forearm. Nico wouldn’t know what that’s like—feeling.
-
Nico collapses on top of Lewis’s sweaty chest, inhaling a lungful of body glitter. He chokes on it, coughs and hacks a few flecks out of his throat, and drags a shuddering breath of oxygen into his chest. He and Lewis have been fucking for so long he doesn’t even remember what it feels like to not have someone else inside of him. Lewis groans and whines underneath him, panting.
It’s approximately one billion degrees under the floodlights. It's so bright that Nico can’t see anything of the party surrounding them, just blobs and smudges behind the retina-scalding curtain of light. He knows they’re in the center of everything though, and that everyone is looking at them, and that people are cheering, because he can hear it faintly behind the beating of his own blood in his ears. He’s on the good shit too. He can’t usually stay hard for this long, even if it’s Lewis.
Lewis whines again, and Nico pushes himself back up and starts moving again. Lewis groans, his head thudding against the arm of the sofa he and Nico are perched on and his eyes rolling back.
It’s almost worth it, Nico thinks. Everything is almost worth it.
-
Nico can’t fall asleep alone anymore. When he shuts his eyes all he can see are glittering, multifaceted crystals, pools of blood as thick as velvet carpets and the inky blackness of endlessly dark caverns. Sometimes he gasps awake, and it feels like there are still shards in his throat, rending sensitive flesh on each juddering exhale.
When Lewis is in his bed, it’s a little bit easier. They don’t fuck when they’re alone—Nico would be so lucky—but Lewis holds him and Nico bites back his usual complaints.
-
Lewis has his lines memorized now. Nico doesn’t have lines, because all he has to do is moan on the floor with a gash in his stomach large enough that he can feel the heat seeping out of his shredded entrails. They’re reenacting everyone’s favourite part from Lewis’s Games where he saved a rival victor that had been left for dead behind a waterfall. This is the X-rated version, though, so Lewis is going to bandage Nico’s wounds and then fuck him back to health.
Nico can hear himself gurgling, notices the shadows creeping into his periphery. Then Lewis’s hands are on him, and the shadows are receding and the knife-like pain of consciousness is making itself known, like a bright light irritating dilated eyes.
Lewis rubs his thumb across the inside of Nico’s forearm. Nico twitches, prone. His insides are knitting themselves back together. His wounds are sealing themselves up. This is the best part. The worst part is the tenderness after.
-
The theme is sharks. And sex. Sex and sharks. Sharks and sex. The theme is Nico and Lewis have sex in a giant fishtank while shark mutts swim from end to end, gnashing their teeth and snarling. They’ve given Nico a drug that eliminates his metabolism’s need for oxygen, but it feels like he’s drowning all the same. The capitolites think this sort of thing is funny.
Nico clutches at Lewis’s tattooed bicep. His stylist has inked him up with images of angel fish that dart across his abdomen and octopuses that twine around his shoulder blades. Nico is wearing pearls. Lewis has a look on his face like he hates that he’s been made to do this and hates himself even more for being unable to dissent.
That’s the Lewis he knows, Nico thinks. That’s the Lewis he fell in love with, when he was sixteen watching Lewis’s Games with his father. He turns his head to gaze through the thick wall of glass that warps his view of the venue outside. Slim figures wisp by, toting flutes of champagne and tiny canapes. They’re not even looking.
Bile rises in Nico’s waterlogged throat. They need to look.
-
Lewis is watching the Games. When he turned it on the television in Nico’s room, Nico almost vomited, but Lewis was adamant that the broadcast stay on. He watches the Games even when the Capitol doesn’t parade him around at viewing parties to provide expert analysis. He tells Nico that it’s important to bear witness to what the Capitol is doing to the children of Panem, but Nico doesn’t buy it. He knows that Lewis just likes to torture himself. He’s always been a martyr.
Nico curls up underneath Lewis’s arm and tunes out the sounds of slaughter. Of exploding canons and warbling mockingjays.
When Lewis utters a disgusted sound at the TV, Nico looks up. The flatscreen is displaying the gory remains of at least three tributes splattered on the face of a snowy mountain. The Career that Nico replaced is standing in the middle of it all, an impish grin on his face and blood up to his elbows. He sticks his tongue out and wags his index finger at the camera.
“Typical District 1 overindulgence,” says Lewis, repulsed. “You can tell he’s never thought about anyone other than himself in his life.”
Nico smiles smugly where Lewis can’t see it.
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prompt game “how dare you”
Okay there's a CLEAR choice here. Fucked up brocedes HG au under the cut:
This isn't the worst thing that's been done to Nico. (It's not even close.) He fucking hates it anyway.
"Hot under there?" Lewis says, turning his head to murmur it in Nico's ear.
"Pfft," Nico says, and pushes up his nose.
They've stuffed him into skin-tight briefs and thoroughly coated him in silver glitter and precious stones. Lewis is done in gold to match. Nico's right hand and Lewis's left hand are stuck in a cage-like gauntlet and bound together up to the elbow so that the capitol can gorge itself on a sick caricature of devotion.
Nico's sweaty palm slips against Lewis's and his knuckles bump the inside of the gauntlet. His nose itches because he inhaled a mote of gold leaf sucking Lewis's dick and it lodged itself in his sinuses. "Whatever," he says. "It's not so bad. Remember the shark tank?"
Lewis fucking laughs. He squeezes Nico's hand. "Remember the psychoactive lube?"
Nico shudders, and Lewis squeezes again.
#wow. how dare you did not actually come up. (let's pretend the how dare you is implied and directed at the capitol)#fucked up brocedes hg au
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seb in the hg drabble… i gasped
I must credit @powerful-owl in dms! Seb is the victor immediately after Nico and was supposed to volunteer for Nico’s games but could not due to std related reasons (seb fucked and nico did not). When he arrives in the Capitol he gets along with Lewis much more naturally than Nico ever did… I just added the part where Lewis is initially repulsed by Seb’s persona during the games until he is reformed…
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