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maidragoste · 5 months

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Chapter Two: A United Front

The Hunger Games AU

Katniss!Jacaerys x Peeta!Reader

Chapter One

First of all, thank you very much for all the support that the first chapter had! It made me really happy to see every comment and reblog, it really motivated me to continue writing 🥰🥰

Please let me know again what you thought of this chapter in the comments, as always, likes and reblogs are appreciated too 💖💖

My inbox is open so I'm always willing to read your headcanons, opinions and answer your questions.

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.

Jacaerys was irritated. Firstly, because it is evident that you had already begun to play in front of the cameras since when you two arrived at the train station you did not bother to hide your tears, you probably thought that perhaps this way you could get a sponsor or else your strategy was to show yourself weak and like an easy prey to later fight in the arena. That's what Sabitha Vypren, from District 7, had done in her games.

The second reason for his irritation was his uncle. Larys hadn't said a word to him since before the Repair or even now that they were on the train heading to the Capitol. This was supposed to be the time for them to prepare strategies together, for Larys to give them advice on surviving the arena, but his uncle seemed more focused on enjoying the pork chops and mashed potatoes. Jacaerys was also eating, he was ready to eat everything he could to gain the most muscle mass before the games started, but now and then he would stop and stare at Larys hoping that at some point his uncle would decide to speak.

“So, what do we have to do for Jacaerys to win?” you asked, breaking the silence and making him choke.

You were the first to react, you quickly got up and started hitting him on the back until he finally spit out the piece of meat. Effie looked at him with disgust.

"Are you okay?" you asked, looking at him with concern and now caressing his back. Jacaerys noticed how his uncle looked at the two of them with interest. He had no idea why, neither of you two had done anything extraordinary, he made a fool of himself by choking and you ran to save him…Well, I had to admit that your action was striking, someone else would have let him die by drowning to have one less competitor in the arena, not only that but you just said that you wanted to help him win. It didn't make sense… Unless it was another strategy to gain his trust only to then stab him in the back in the arena.

"I'm fine," Jacaerys responded, putting his hand on your arm to stop your caresses. You blushed and moved away from him as if you had been burned by his touch. “What do you mean by that you said earlier?” he asked you once you sat back down.

"You have a chance to win, Jacaerys," you declared as if it were obvious. Evidently, he couldn't hide his confusion because you continued talking "You know how to hunt and you have good aim. Every time my father buys you squirrels he says that the arrow always hits the eye, you never ruin the body" the boy felt the heat rise to his face at your words and he was sure he was blushing because suddenly you seemed to be stopping yourself from smiling. "So if either of us has a chance of winning it's you. I'll probably be one of the first to die but I think I can be of help in the interview" you said the last thing looking at Larys.

Jacaerys felt his appetite disappear. It didn't sit well with him to hear you talk as if you were already resigned to dying. "She's got a good right hook," he said, looking at his uncle. He couldn't let Larys give up on you quickly, if you lost his interest then he surely wouldn't bother trying to help you win. "Lucerys told me. She hit a boy who was bothering him and gave that idiot a black eye."

"Jacaerys, I won't be able to win just by hitting people. Besides, there are surely tributes even bigger than that boy, they will attack me before I can even land a hit on him."

For a moment he had the image of an unknown tribute mercilessly attacking you with a sword before you had the chance to defend yourself. His stomach fluttered at the image of your broken body.

"You, on the other hand, can attack from afar with your bow. If you hide well you can have an advantage" you continued and went back to eating without realizing that your companion was looking at you with a frown.

Your attitude was irritating him. You should have been trying to impress Larys by saying what other things you can do but instead, you keep talking about him. It did not make sense. It had to be a strategy or maybe you were thinking it was a lost cause to try to win the games by having him as a district partner and his uncle as his mentor. You probably believed that Larys would choose to put all the chips on him just because he was his nephew. That made him furious.

"She can lift weights. I saw her lifting sacks of flour"

You suddenly dropped the cutlery sharply on the table. "Enough, Jacaerys," the annoyance was evident on your face and in your voice. "Don't try to make me feel good just out of pity, please. I know I'm going to lose. Everyone knows that." "You made a gesture with your hand to let you continue talking when you saw him open his mouth." Do you know what my mother told me when she came to say goodbye to me? There may finally be another winner in 12. She wasn't talking about me" you said looking into his eyes.

Everyone knew that your mother was a witch but Jacaerys never imagined that she would be one with her own daughter. It was cruel to tell you that when perhaps it could be her last talk. She should have faith in you. Or at least give you the benefit of the doubt. He wanted to comfort you but he had no idea what to say. Besides, he didn't think his uncle would be happy if he saw him being nice to you. He would tell her that he was weak and that he didn't come here to make friends.

So Jace settled for looking into your eyes, hoping that you could somehow understand that he didn't want you to give up.

"Oh, darling, that's horrible," Effie said, breaking the tension between the two of you, placing a hand on her heart, she seemed genuinely moved. "I think you should try hard to win and prove your mother wrong."

You didn't say anything, you just gave a sad smile to the district escort. A moment ago Jacaerys felt bad for you but now he can't help but think that maybe you only told your last conversation with your mother to gain Effie's sympathy and get her to talk about you to her friends in the Capitol. He hated analyzing everything you did but he couldn't let his guard down with you if he wanted to go home to his brothers. He was sure that if Lucerys was with him and could see what was going on in her mind he would tell him that he was being paranoid. But maybe it wasn't wrong for him to doubt you, Jace thought when he noticed that Uncle Larys seemed to be evaluating you with his gaze.

“Let's start to see who his competitors are,” Larys finally spoke, ending the dinner.

Jacaerys was relieved to see that your stylist had put you in an outfit just like his, at least if he ended up making a fool of himself at the parade he wouldn't be the only one. You're wearing the same shiny leather boots and the same full-length black leotard with the cloak that flutters in the wind. The only difference between the two of you was that your suit seemed closer to your body, highlighting your curves.

As you are taken to the lower level of the Renewal Center, Portia, your stylist, along with her team can't stop talking excitedly about what a sensation you two will be. Cinna, Jacaerys' stylist who came up with the idea of setting their outfits on fire, seems tired of the congratulations. Jace couldn't help but wonder if perhaps he, too, was nervous that it wouldn't work and would end with them dead. You didn't look nervous, which shouldn't surprise him considering you were probably used to fire since he worked at the bakery.

Once they arrive, they basically find a giant stable. The opening ceremony is about to begin so the stylists are having their tributes ride into carriages pulled by a group of horses. Cinna and Portia lead you and Jacaerys to their carriage, both of them carefully arranging the posture of the two of your bodies and your cloaks before stepping aside to talk something between themselves.

“What do you think of the fire?” Jacaerys asked you in a whisper. He tells himself that he's just talking to you to distract himself from his nerves.

“At least we're not naked,” you replied, shrugging your shoulders. Jacaerys grimaces as he remembers those poor tributes who had to parade naked covered in black dust. It had happened years before his uncle became a victor, the only reason why everyone knew about that incident was because whenever the games approached on television they did a recap of the best kills, the best dressed as well as the worst deaths and the worst dresses. In the latter, those poor tributes always appeared.

“Uncle Larys definitely wouldn't have let that happen. He probably would have hit them with his cane as soon as they told him that idea,” Jace said with a small smile as he imagined his uncle hitting the stylists and scolding them. You must have imagined the same thing too because you started laughing. Your laughter was contagious so he soon joined you, feeling his nerves disappear for a moment as well as the heaviness in his shoulders. Cinna and Portia will probably be upset that you two lost your posture but neither you nor Jacaerys seemed worried about it.

"If something goes wrong I promise to take out your cloak while you take out mine," you said trying to get serious again but from the corner of your lips, it was evident that you wanted to smile.

"Deal," he agreed with a small smile.

Jace's calm demeanor disappeared the moment he saw his uncle. He tensed as he watched him walk towards the carriage, ready to feel his eyes judging him and scolding him for acting like a child. His uncle was right to be angry, now the other tributes would see them as weak and stupid.

"I want you to present yourself as a united front," Larys said, surprising his nephew.

"What?"

"If you want to win then you have to do everything I say" the mentor reminded them "So you will go out, hold hands, and greet the audience" In his tone of voice there was no room for discussion but Jacaerys had many questions. He couldn't do any of them because when started playing the opening music Larys headed for the exit.

"Come on, don't look so upset. It's not like I have scabies," you nudged him. If he hadn't been focused on seeing the tributes from District 1 in his glowing robes then he would have noticed how the sparkle in your eyes seemed to have dimmed.

It's not many minutes before you and Jacaerys are near the doors. As the District 11 tributes leave, Cinna appears with a torch. You and Jace don't have time to back away when the stylist turns on both of your cloaks. The three of them sigh in relief when they see that it worked.

“Remember head up and smile. Oh, don't forget the most important thing, hold hands. They're going to love you!" Cinna quickly tells them before getting out of the carriage.

Jacaerys hesitates before taking your left hand. Unlike him, you don't hesitate to intertwine your fingers with his. You give him one last smile before his carriage enters the city. The crowd seems alarmed at first when they see the fire but then they soon begin shouting both their names. Jace can't help but feel overwhelmed by the feeling of everyone's eyes on him so he focuses on staring at the screen. For a moment he is breathless, the two of you look wonderful, especially you look brilliant as you wave and blow kisses to the crowd. In the low light of twilight, the fire illuminates both of your faces and your cloaks seem to leave a trail of flames behind. Cinna got what he wanted and gave you both a chance, no one would forget about you two, you really made a sensation.

You squeeze Jacaerys's hand and remind him under your breath to “Smile.”

Then he tries his best to give his best smile and starts greeting you. Someone among all these people must have wanted to sponsor him. This was an excellent opportunity to win over the audience and he had to take advantage of it. He remembers the words of his uncle Larys, so he raises their joined hands, making the screams increase even more. When they enter the City Circle they lower their hands but neither you nor Jace try to let go. During President Snow's speech, Jacaerys is distracted by feeling you caress his skin with your thumb, he tries not to think about it too much, he tells himself that you must be nervous and you do it unconsciously. Luckily it doesn't take long for the national anthem to be heard and the carriages travel around the circle for the last time. Jacaerys notices that the screens seem to show you two more than the other tributes.

He finishes confirming that it was not his imagination once you arrive at the Training Center and get off your carriages. As Cinna and Portia remove their cloaks, you and Jacaerys notice the angry glances of the other tributes, especially Royce Baratheon, the burly boy from District 2 who volunteered, and his district partner Agatha Durrandon.

Jace notices that the two of you are still holding hands so he lets you go.

"The flames suit you well and you have a beautiful smile" you declared with a smile making him blush.

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necromelli · 5 months

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prologue

— tw include but are not limited to: typical hunger games violence, depictions of death & killing, references to alcohol. read at your own risk.

wc: 1k words

you're crowned the victor of the 69th games, the most ruthless tribute in panem history.

In.

Out.

Hold.

That's what Enobaria had taught you. Inhale until it stung. Exhale and let your lungs deflate all the way. Hold until you thought you'd pass out and do it all again.

You opened your eyes to the rewind of the tiny throwing knife getting lodged in the stomach of a girl from six — no, eight. She was from eight, you reminded yourself.

Thirteen out of twenty-four tributes in the 69th Hunger Games died at your hand. The most kills recorded in Panmen’s history. You could feel the thick, sticky blood still burning your hands. Hell, half the time you could see the blood coating your fingers dripping, dripping, dripping onto your marble countertops.

The loud ring of a cannon fire rang in your ears, pleading eyes from the girl slowly dimmed and slacked, her hands that had been in your hair dropped, and she slid from the throwing knife and crumpled to the ground. Lifeless.

The worst part was that you still didn't know her name, even after being out of the arena for weeks. You hadn't bothered enough to know the girl you selfishly killed and laughed about with your allies.

Bile rose in your throat and you sat up a little straighter. You swallowed it down and brushed non-existent wrinkles from your clothes. You pretended not to be affected by the scene. By any of the scenes, with each one leaving you more hollow than the last. You had only gone through six, you still had seven left to go.

In.

Out.

Hold.

Caesar Flickerman sat next to your throne, watching the recaps intently, curiously as if he hadn't watched them live. When he noticed your struggle, his brows sew together in worry, and he taps your arm. When you turn to look at him, he’s offering you his barely touched glass of champagne.

You can barely hear him when he leans in. “It’ll help. You trust me, right?”

You wanted to scream that you didn't trust him. That he found the Games just as amusing as any other Capitol vulture. But, you didn't. You bit your tongue and took the glass of champagne, offering a pretty smile as you downed it in one go.

The Capitol wasn't all bad. They had kept you fed, clothed, and happy for your whole life. Protected. They looked the other way when you were trained at the academy, which allowed you to win. They gave you a gorgeous house for free, enough riches to last a lifetime, the promise to never be reaped again. The Capitol wasn't all bad.

The champagne made you feel warm, staticay like the sound of your TV when the foil was moved the wrong way and the program went out. Caesar was right. It did help.

You had sobered back up by the last death. A district twelve boy that should have won, instead of you. He didn't plead for his life, not even when you started screaming at him too. You wanted — needed — something to lurch you towards him. Your hands clutched the throwing knife, your last one, eyes trained on his face. He just stared, breathing ragged, as he waited. Scoped you out.

You didn't expect him to throw the knife you had embedded from the girl in six. Even now, you could recall the cold shock hitting you as if it was happening all over again. You pulled the knife from your shoulder, screaming and groaning. You caught the number three scratched into the handle. You looked at him, realizing you killed his ally.

That you had the chance to kill him too but you failed. You didn't do what you were trained to do.

You ran towards him, knife number three sinking deep into his leg. His scream of pain hurt your ears, haunted your dreams. Twelve pulled you down with him, knocking the air from your lungs. He tried prying your other knife from your hand, but you threw it away from you. Instead, you headbutted him, rolling on top of him.

Twelve threw punches, skinny hands doing enough damage to fracture your nose. Wanting it to be over, your hands wrapped around his throat. You squeezed, and squeezed, and squeezed so hard you heard a crack and then the boom of the cannon.

Your hands slowly unfurled from the boy's neck, already bruised. Already tainted forever with your touch. You screamed, hot tears spilling past your lashes. You sobbed into the boy’s chest for a solid ten seconds before you heard the announcement made.

“Relishing in the glory of winning?” Caesar Flickerman mused cheekily, snapping you back to attention.

You stared at him for several seconds, before an arrogant smile twitched your lips. Caesar was right. You fought to win the Games. There was no reason to be ashamed or feel guilty. If the districts had listened in the first place, no one would've had to die. “Oh, well, you know,” you shrugged confidently. “I did work very hard to win.”

“How many was it in all?”

A frown tugged your lips, but instead chose a tight lipped smile instead. “Thirteen.”

You could name them all. You had killed the entire Career pack slowly through the entirety of the games. Besides you, there were six others. Then, you killed the girl from district six, the boy from three, girl from five, both district eleven tributes, the boy from nine, and finally, the boy from twelve.

“That's a record, I believe! That is just fantastic.” Caesar exclaimed, the Capitol elite and last victors scattered throughout began to clap. “See? Even they think it's fantastic.”

You looked out to the crowd, scanning the first few faces. You gave Caesar another tight-lipped smile, letting him continue.

“We learned you were smarter than you let on when you managed to kill all six careers. District one, two, four, and the girl from seven. Would you care to explain your thought process?”

“Of course.” You nodded, beginning to explain.

You started killing the careers sporadically through the games, always when a tribute was near that you could blame it on. None of them ever thought wiser. All too arrogant to assume one of their own allies were lying about killing them. It had to be the jealous and weak tributes. Not some career.

“Impressive, darling. I can see why you have the highest kill count in all of Panmen's history.” Caesar paused, holding a hand to his ear piece. A wide grin broke out on his face as he grabbed your hand, pulling you up. “I've just been told the crowing of the victor for the 69th annual hunger games will take place momentarily.”

You felt Caesar stepped away, leaving you standing in the middle of the stage alone. You felt goosebumps form on your exposed skin as you felt President Snow walk towards you. He smelt like roses and metal. He wore the smell of blood and death like a perfume.

He stands next to you, microphone in hand. He talks so slowly it starts to eat you from the inside out. It's like he did it on purpose, because he knew how uncomfortable being on that stage made you.

“In honor and celebration of the new, official game record set of Most Killed, there are thirteen connecting chains, each chain sitting below a jewel representing the district the fallen tribute came from.”

That was a joke. That had to have been a joke. The fact you killed thirteen children was being applauded and celebrated. Like it was something to cherish and remember when all you wanted to do was forget.

The crown was heavy when Snow placed it on your head. The chains fell in a swoop around your head, accentuating your new nose and blazing eyes. The freckles that dotted your cheeks and nose.

When Snow opened his mouth, you held your breath. “I'm expecting great things from you.”

With that, he held his hand out for you to shake. You did, listening to the crowd cheer for you when he finally stepped away.

You, with the gorgeous crown, bruised knuckles from hitting one two many walls. You with the surgically fixed nose. You who had done one too many sinful acts to ever be considered good again.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Caesar Flickerman’s voice rang in your ears; loud and grating. “The victor of the 69th annual Hunger Games!”

#catching fire #fanfic #mockingjay #the hunger games #finnick odair #thg fanfiction #thg finnick #annie cresta #finnick x reader #finnick x you #finnick odair x reader #finnick imagine

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daenysthedreamersblog · 4 months

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STRANGERS II - HIS DARLING BLUEBELL

I tried to be good. Am I no good? Am I no good? Am I no good?

If I'm turning in your stomach and I'm making you feel sick

part one here

summary: your victory tour has ended, and snow throws a party for you to let the bidding war over you begin. but as the time for the final deal draws closer, can president snow truly part with his favorite little victor?

pairings: president!snow x district6! reader

warnings: MDNI! swearing, heavy drinking, non/dub-con touching / kissing, choking, dub-con, fingering, oral sex, power imbalance, slapping, spitting, me trying to describe hair styles, let me know if i forgot anything!

notes: hope you enjoy part two! tysm for reading 🤍

You couldn't sleep without two bottles of wine at least while also baring the train car door with a chair to keep him out. He never came or else you would have heard the banging. He would have tried and most likely succeeded breaking down the door and once again violating your space. You knew it would only enrage him more, locking him out, but it gave you some sense of peace. Allowed you to find sleep underneath piles of blankets surrounded by empty cups.

You also knew if he asked you nicely you would open the door in an instant, and you hated that part of yourself the most.

The train had stopped a long while ago and you waited for someone to retrieve you. You had removed the chair and sat there peacefully until the Avox came within the room beckoning to follow. You did, you followed them off the train and onto the concrete platform. Taking a deep breath, the smoke from the train blowing off into the winds; you found strength in the scent, found yourself wishing that puff of smoke was blowing you away with it.

President Snow was gone leaving you in worried silence wondering what corner he would be lurking around.

The tribute center hadn't changed in the months you had been gone and the ride up the elevator was actually nostalgic. How different life had been back then, how afraid you were for different things. It dinged on the sixth floor allowing you off and your feet gravitated to your old room. You peered to the right, to the door that would never open again revealing the freckle faced boy you had come here with. He had died in the first five minutes of the games and you never knew his name too caught up in your own woes about dying.

"Good afternoon miss." A bright smile greeted you. "President Snow sent me." She was flanked by two others opening kits of instruments and fabric and colored makeup. She had her hand around your back ushering you to the bathroom. "Let's get you cleaned up for him hmm?”

The chill went through you; for him. It might be a figure of speech since he was the President and everything was always inherently his. You lived in his districts, you won his games, you would always be his property, and maybe that’s why he felt a right to your body too. You let them strip you, let them wax and pluck and shave down every part of you until your skin was raw.

They sat you down and styled your hair into elegant waves down your back slicking your bangs against your head and behind your ears to let your hair hang permanently over your shoulders and down your back. They airbrushed makeup onto your face covering your lids in gentle colors, putting a soft pink gloss on your lips. And finally when that was done, when they had rubbed your body down with sweet smelling lotions and perfumes, did they slip on the dress.

It was white, a slight sparkle to it when the light hit it, off the shoulder sleeves hanging against your biceps a slight cowl neckline and bodice that hugged your waist, cinching it in tight. The skirt stopped at your feet the two stylist sliding you into white heels.

"You look absolutely ethereal." The stylist mused running fingers along your hair to get it perfect, smoothing down any stray pieces. "An image of innocence." Your eyes flashed to her, pride gleaming in her face, but the others. They seemed sad, almost ashamed as they turned away from you. "Final touches." She slipped the red rose corsage along your wrist the disgusting smell wafting up to your face. "Perfect. Now wait here until he comes to fetch you."

They left like they came, quickly and without many words leaving you in a heart drumming silence. The room felt like it was caving in and suddenly your breaths were hard to find as panic choked you, the bodice of the dress squeezing your lungs. You spun, gripping the back of the chair to walk, soon grappling for the armchair wanting to rip this dress off so you could breath. You forced an exhale out wrapping your arms around the back trying to rip it off. You couldn't do this, couldn't go out there and let him sell you, let him sell your body. You could hear your heart beat throbbing in your throat as you stumbled over to the small cart holding liquor white knuckles holding onto it to stay standing. You snatched the cap off, throwing it across the room and chugged the burning white liquid down until your insides felt on fire, until most of it was gone.

You threw it at the window, watching it shatter to pieces, but the window never broke trapping you in with light reflected shards of glass. You grabbed a bottle of wine off the cart, fell to the floor with a sob, dizzy and heavy with grief. Maybe you deserved all of this after everything, after killing that boy, after surviving, after some elder family member had rebelled. You ripped the top off the wine and drank deep wallowing in self-pity until your doom came for you.

The door open and closed without protest, no chair would keep him out anyways. You listened to the short clips of his shoes as he came around and stood behind you like a shadow, like a guardian angel. He tsked, squatting down, turning your face towards him. He looked immaculate in a white suit, a single red rose pinned to his chest; a perfect opposite to your ensemble.

A single tear rolled down your cheek as you stared up at him with scared eyes, "Please." You whimpered. “Don’t make me go out there.”

He raised his eyebrow, an amused look on his face, "Oh my darling bluebell." His hold on your face tightened as he yanked you forward forcing you to throw your hands out to brace the floor, "My good little bluebell." His eyes flickered around your face, a cold rage settling in and then his hand was around your neck stealing the breath out of you. You gaped at him, mouth opening and closing trying to force the words out, trying to claw up his arm to pull him off, but he only yanked you closer, bodies flush as your vision split and blurred. "As it is given...it can be taken away." He hissed pressing a bruising kiss to your lips, his hand loosing, the gasp opening up your mouth for him to slip inside.

His tongue was dominating, shoving down your throat as he attempted to devour you whole. It was a mesh of teeth and tongue; his kiss starving, hungry, like the Capitol never gave him enough food and he was planning to eat you. Fingers were digging in, carving out a place for him to control, breath by breath he took out of your chest until finally he pulled back, a string of spit trailing between the two of you.

You opened your mouth to speak, to ask him why he was doing all of this, but the words failed as your wide eyes flickered around his face.

He stood up and went to the door leaving you waiting in a pile of tears and broken glass. He opened the door, "Call Tigris." He instructed to someone outside of the door. Then it closed again, and he took a deep breath, your eyes flashed up to him as he readjusted his pants, the hard bulge in them prominent. He clicked his tongue hands resting on his hips as he stared at the ground, and then down at you still shaking on the floor.

Then he threw off his suit jacket. "Fuck it."

He came striding forward once more with purpose, lust blowing his pupils wide. "No!" You cried out falling back on your butt, crawling backwards until your leg snagged on the dress and you went tumbling to the ground. You rolled trying to scramble to your feet, but his hand had wrapped around your calf where the old scar still sometimes hurt. You clawed and kicked at him, "Please!" The sob broke out, feeling him pushing the pretty white dress up, the unbuckling sound ringing in your ears too loudly. "I've been good! I've been so good." You shook your head as he pinned your legs down with his hips. "Please Mr. President sir," Tears rolls down your cheeks. "Haven't I been good? Your good girl, please don't do this." You tried to fake tenderness by running your fingers down his arm, but nothing stopped him. It all fell on deaf ears as his hands found the hem of your underwear and he began to pull down. You thrashed more, cried and clawed at him, but he seemed content to ravage you.

"Coriolanus." A woman's voice shot through the room and he stilled atop of you hands slowly leaving from under the dress.

He sighed, his forehead pressing into yours as if it had been such a ruined intimate moment. He began to climb off, straightening himself up again. "Tigris." He said smoothing down his hair. "Get her cleaned up I'll be back in a half-hour."

You laid there in silence listening to him leave, listening to the door close with his exit the sound throbbing in your head. She finally came around staring at you disheveled on the floor. "Come on." She grabbed your hand helping you up, and back into the chair in front of the vanity. It wasn't horrible considering all that had happened. Your lipstick was smudged with small marks of mascara tracks down your face, which she solved in a matter of minutes. Your hair had only needed a quick brush and more spray to fix. Then you were perfect again; like he had never touched you. The feeling remained; his hungry lips on yours, his devouring hands. Your lip began to wobble as water welled, "Don't cry." You blinked up at her, "Please." She whipped out a handkerchief and dabbed at the corner of your eye to prevent the liquid from spilling over. "Are you alright?"

You only stared at her with furrowed brows at the dumbest question she could have asked. You pushed her away gathering shaking breaths as you turned from her.

"He..." She sighed still looking at you. "He is...he just..." You glared at her over your shoulder and she dropped her voice, "I'm sorry he is doing this you."

"If you were sorry," You seethed letting your anger show. It was rare. "You wouldn't fix me up so he can sell me like a prized mare!"

Tigris frowned truly saddened by the words taking a step back like you had slapped her. "I'm sorry." She said again grabbing her things and beginning to retreat. "I'm sorry." She went to the door opening it, "Coriolanus." She said staring up at him. "Can I speak w-!"

"Go." He gritted out as she stumbled out of the door and into the hall. He slammed the door behind her. He stared at the closed door for a second, took a deep breath, then turned to take you in once again, "Perfection." He smiled as you slowly turned to fully look at him. He came forward and your foot slid back, "Oh my little bluebell." He mused continually moving for you. "I didn't mean to mess up your makeup." He took your hands in his not really offering anymore of an explanation. "Can you forgive me?" He kissed your knuckles staring at you expectingly from under his lashes.

What were you to say to the president of Panem? No?

"I forgive you, Mr. President, sir."

He beamed, hands coming around your face, "That's my good girl." His thumb caressed your cheek, "Now give me a kiss." You sucked in a breath and let him guide you to his mouth pressing your lips to his own. He hummed gently against you, tongue sweeping along your bottom lip, but he pulled back your gloss shining on his plush mouth. "Don't want to make us late." He pushed stray pieces of hair off your neck and tucked your arm in his elbow to lead you out of the room. "I have a few people I want you to meet..." He kept talking but you drowned him out as he walked you down the hallway his grip borderline painful.

He ushered you out into the hall with ohs-awes echoing around everyone straining to get a look at the Capitol's pet until the next games rolled around. Snow was speaking motioning to you and once everyone had toasted to him, the Capitol, the games did he begin to pull you around the room; a pretty accessory on his arm.

"Isn't she lovely." He said introducing you to a herd of men staring greedily. You stared ahead, far away as you heard him whisper about you, something about being well behaved, a few chuckles followed and pocket books opened, "Come," He opened his arm wide for you to walk forward. "Introduce yourself."

Your name sounded foreign, like it didn’t belong to you anymore as you shook their hands. "Nice to meet you sir," With each pleasantry and curtsy. It went around and around until you felt dizzy with each turn you made to meet someone new, someone who wanted to buy a body because 23 others had died. For some reason it made you curl against your fearsome President more as if he would stop these vultures from descending upon you; how ironic. You tugged on his hand to make him look. How dark his blue eyes seemed to get seeing you clinging to him like a savior.

"What is it?" He dropped his voice his hand patting yours.

You gazed up with pleading eyes, "I need a drink."

"Yes, of course." He leaned lower stroking your chin, "Not too much remember?" You nodded as he straightened up and smiled.

"Will you excuse me gentlemen?" You peered at the circle of buyers.

One had his arm wrapped around your bicep and your eyes flared up as he yanked you, "I can walk you over there."

No, no, no. You wildly searched for Snow behind his tall frame, and didn't have to look for long as a hand appeared on the man's chest, "Get your hands off her before I have them removed from your body." His voice was low. The man scoffed. This is what they were there for; me, and their president was stopping their grubby, money stained hands. Snow stepped closer, "Did I not make myself clear."

The hand fell off you and you rubbed the redness, "You promised that we-!"

"I didn't promise anything." Snow stood tall staring down his nose at the man. "Especially not to you." He waved a hand and you heard peacekeepers moving in, his eyes met yours, "Go."

"Mr. President, sir." You hid the shake in your voice as you slipped away hearing the whispers of praise about the view walking away was giving them. You didn't look back as you charged to the refreshments table grabbing the expecting flute from the servant's hand. You chugged it swiftly before anyone could notice and then forced them to refill. This time you drank it slower, body still lagging from the liquor you had drowned in earlier. If you kept in a constant daze everything felt a little more distant, like your drunk mind had made it up, fabricated the story.

"He sure does seem to like playing with you." Your head snapped to the young woman, the victor from District 4. "Mags," She smiled. She slid up besides you, nursing her own flute of champagne, "It gets easier."

"When?"

She chuckled, "When they get bored, when other victors emerge. You got bad luck, you're the first female victor since my games." Which was four games ago, "They're salivating simply to smell you." She took a sip from her flute, "You should have never told him you were a virgin."

Your eyes were wild. "H-How?" Don't stutter darling, your mother's voice, It isn't proper.

"You think he wouldn't 'leak' that to the posse he sells us all to?" Mags shook her head, "It's made mutts of them all."

"It was an accident." You took a shaky breath remembering that day on the train. "I thought something was going to happen and I wanted him to st-!"

Her hand grabbed your arm, "He's touching you?" Her grip grew firm, "Isn't he?"

You drained the flute to avoid her seeing your horridly confused face, "Did he not..."

"No, never." Her face held genuine concern. "Some minor comments, but no he never. Didn't parade me around on his arm, didn't coordinate outfits," Mags scoffed, "He made me wear this ugly teal thing as homage to my district." You couldn't speak, couldn't seem to settle yourself. "Maybe because of the whole new victory tour he felt he could get away with more. He does like his power-trips, and you're such a obedient little thing. His cock probably is straining in his pants just looking at you all pouty." You set the flute down holding your hand to your head to stop the thoughts from pouring out, dizzy with her words. They felt so brutal like the blows were hitting you in the heart. "Oh dear. I'm sorry I really never know when to shut-up." She turned you to face her, "It's alright. Here." She grabbed a fresh flute of champagne and forced it into your hands, "The first time is the hardest, after that it gets easier and once they get bored it will stop. You need to be strong okay?" Her hands ran down the skin of your arms as if trying to warm your soul. "It will be over soon. I'm here. I understand, all the victors do."

You drained your flute like it was the air you needed. "Why is he doing this to me?"

Mags only frowned sadly, "I don't know. I used to hear stories about him, before he was President. Rumors says during the 10th Hunger Games he was a mentor, but theres no proof, everything got wiped. Afterwards, he got shipped to District 12 for some rules he broke during school. When he came back he was different; he came back that man." Your eyes landed on him across the room, and he was watching you over the rim of his glass. "Something changed in him out there, and ever since he's been working his way to the top, keeping the Games, making them more brutal and publicized each year."

"What do I do?" You pleaded with her.

She tried to smile taking your hand, but it never reached her eyes, "Be careful. He's dangerous, and let's just say, I'm surprised anyone is going to bid for you seeing the way he keeps you so close." She had this look indicating she wasn't sure what was worse; the leeching men or Snow's protection. It wasn't sound advice, but you tucked it close because what else were you supposed to do; burn the Capitol down.

No one person couldn't do that.

You glanced back at him, anger laced in his stare as men talked at him.

You knew which was worse.

It was midnight by the time you stumbled into your room kicking your shoes off towards the far end of the wall and grabbing the brown liquor you had left from earlier. Your stomach garbled with hunger, but you just tossed the glass decanter cap away hearing it shatter behind you and pushed the bathroom door open. You turned the faucet on setting the glass container down to attempt to undo the bodice of the dress. You got half way down before you gave up unable to reach, too tired, too drunk, too ogled at to care. You climbed into the tub, decanter in hand, the water soaking into the fabric weighing you down as you slid into it. How pathetic. How was this the epitome of desire, a drunken, wet, sad little girl.

Maybe that was how they liked them.

You turned the water off with your foot as it sat just under your chin, wet hair floating around you. You took another long drink eyes heavy, brain swirling with everything Mags had told you tonight. You couldn't make sense of it all, not now, a part of you didn’t ever want to figure it out, it was simply too much to dissect and what good would it do. He was still going to sell you off to whoever he wanted until your name was a joke they spoke over whiskey.

Ugly red rose petals floated around you from the ruined corsage around your wrist. Your ears were underwater, the idea of drowning yourself more appealing the more sleep pulled you under. The water dulled the sound of the bathroom door closing, but there he was staring down at you in the bath. He was dressed down, his suit jacket gone, dress shirt unbuttoned at the top, his perfect hair slightly curled in some parts. He almost looked normal, handsome even if you allowed yourself to admire it. You picked your head up as he knelt beside the tub, "You could have called for help to take the dress off."

"I was impatient." You took a swig from the bottle a glare in your eyes.

"I can tell." He chuckled, his fingers dancing on the edge of the water, playing with soaked rose petals, urging you to disagree with the movement. "I saw you speaking to Ms. Flanagan.”

You glanced over at him. He was expecting an answer and you couldn't tell him the true meaning of the conversation or else Mags could get in trouble. "That it must be nice to be President Snow's favorite victor." You took another drink, "I told her that isn't true, it would be wrong of you to pick favorites."

He smiled to himself, "It isn't wrong; I do have a favorite."

“Did he not…"

“No, never.”

You knew he wasn't lying, knew in the way his eyes drank you in he wasn't lying. He took a deep breath, folding up his sleeves, coming around the back of the tub, "I did a lot of thinking." His hand came up to your neck, running down the wet flesh, fanning your hair out of the way. "And you were right." His lips were pressing against your jugular kissing down and across your shoulders his hands following the same trail.

"About what?" Your chest was rising and falling too fast vision blurring, brain clouded.

His mouth was against your ear, "You have been so good to me." He bit down on your ear. His hand was dipping further into the water until it was fighting your heavy skirt to get underneath, "And I've been so selfish."

You froze as you watched in horror as his hand disappeared underneath the skirts of the dress. He shifted his other hand coming around to float down your chest. He was under the hem of your underwear as your lips parted in a gasp feeling the slide of his fingers against your folds. Your hands were coming up to stop him, "Mr. President plea-!"

Two fingers sunk into you. You cried out, hips bucking at the contact, but his other arm slammed you back into the tub, "Shh, shh, it's okay." He whispered into your ear. "It will feel good." He kissed your neck, his other hands slipping under the neckline to grip your breast. You had your claws in his arm as he slowly moved his fingers inside of you.

Conflicting feelings began to arise within you, you felt fear at the intrusion, but your face burned as pleasure shot through your body. It shouldn't feel good, but he said it would, and so it did. Him touching you this way shouldn't bring a blush to your cheeks, an aching throb to your core. He was curling his fingers inside of you stroking a deep sweet spot you could never reach on the nights you had tried to explore your own body. At the same time his thumb brushed over your nipple kneading your breast into his hand.

You felt your hands slipping off of him.

"Let me make you feel good. I know you want to, can feel your pussy sucking me in." You chewed on your lip turning your face from him as your knees involuntarily curled up, spreading you open more for him, "There you go," his husky voice said in your ear as he once again shifted to push his hand inside further, the other squeezing your breast. You bit back the noise gurgling in your throat; no your body had betrayed you enough, you would not let him hear it too. "I saw you," He panted nearly engulfing you with his chest. "I saw you looking at me, clinging to me, begging me to save you from those men who want to take you from me." His thumb swirled around the sensitive bud between your legs and your hand shot up twisting into his shirt, toes curling, "I wanted to fuck you in front of them all, watch them drool as I take what is mine and not theirs." His thrust were vicious, his thumb pressing down, the other hand pinching and rolling your nipple. "Mine." He hissed against your hot skin.

You threw your head back against his chest the moan breaking from the confines of your throat. His eyes were there to greet you, his hand pulling off your breast to wrap into your hair forcing you to stay put, to keep staring at him. Because he wanted to see your face as he made you come undone, as he burned through you like wildfire. Yours eyes screwed up, fast pants leaving your agape mouth, and all you could do was keep his gaze as he brought you to the peak of ecstasy.

"Cum for me," He growled, "Be my good girl and cum right now." Maybe it was the trained etiquette built in, maybe it was him, but your body clamped down on his hand stars spilling into your vision as you came. It felt like betrayal; it felt wrong to let the pleasure leak out of your body as his hand stayed rooted within you. His mouth was on yours stealing breath from your lungs as he shoved his tongue between your teeth. It was possession and ownership and it was all his to command. His bit down on your bottom lip tugging until his teeth broke skin, and then he was kissing you again the taste of rust filling your mouth, brain unsure what to feel but the pain oozing from the open wound and the delicious pulsing between your legs.

You couldn't kiss him back. Couldn't do anything but lay limp in the water for him. You came down from the high he had given you confused as the bliss danced down your spine. Until finally his hand slipped out of you, the emptiness tugging in a weird place and you stared at him blankly. He kissed your lips again, gently like it would break you. Your bottom lip was trembling as he pushed you forwards undoing the rest of the dress. It felt so wrong, everything, he had violated you in a such a way and you had let him because your body couldn't avoid the pleasure he had made you feel

He pulled you out of the soaking dress, and picked you up from the bath, head lolling against his chest. You were naked and dripping when he placed you on the bed not caring enough to even dry you off as stray red petals clung to your skin. He was still pawing at you as you stared up at the ceiling, hands on your naked flesh, nails digging in where he wanted to grab. "So soft," You heard him mutter his mouth tasting along your body, drinking in your moisture.

Your head was somewhere else, the alcohol, the orgasm, the exhaustion was dragging you under. You couldn't quite see him anymore, "Please," You mumbled his tongue circling your nipple, fingers inside your sopping cunt once more. "I'm so tired." Tears were rolling down your cheeks, or was that simply water from the bath? Why were you crying if it felt good? He hadn't forced himself inside your mouth, inside you, he was rewarding you for your good behavior.

"Shh." He only hushed you. "Close your eyes." You did close your eyes unable to keep them open, a soft whine leaving your throat as he pushed your legs apart, "Look at you," His voice sounded underwater he was still speaking, but you couldn't hear him anymore his hand viciously thrusting inside of you. "Do you like that?"

You were whispering something, but couldn't feel the words your head being pulled into the pillow fingers clawing at him, for him.

"You do." You felt warmth between your legs and soon his head was there, his tongue licking up the center of you a smile beneath it all.

You orgasmed one more time before blackness pulled you under.

You awoke to an empty bed. You groaned barely able to open your eyes the air hitting your bare chest. He had left you here, alone and drenched in your own arousal. Your thighs were soaked and sticky his own pleasure splattered across your breast. You wanted to sob, each shaky breath hurt your ribs, but the tears never came. Because as you stroked your fingers through everything he had pulled out of you, you knew you had let this happen, you had let him do this to you. Your body had given itself over willingly to him as you rubbed the proof between your fingers. You wanted to feel shame; you wanted to feel broken, but all you felt was left over euphoria from what he had given you.

He had never fucked you; you would have known. You would feel the pain of something like that, see the blood as he broke through your maidenhead. No, he had just feasted on your flesh, drained every drop he could and abandoned you here. You rolled over, body sore from what he had done and slowly rose from the bed.

Then you padded to the bathroom, reran the bath, and soaked his touch off.

The stylist team came again, Tigris came again. Curling your hair, pinning it half up-half down, smearing on more makeup, and sliding you into a chiffon lavender dress. Another image of innocence; a sweet girl pliant for men.

"How are you?" She asked placing more foundation in a mark he had pressed into the flesh on your neck. He had tried to be careful, biting and bruising what no one could see loosing control most of the time, but you saw it. Saw the outline of every half moon cut he had made, the teeth indents of his mouth, the deep blues and purples littering your skin. He fashioned himself an artist; your naked body was his masterpiece signing his name is white pleasure.

You blinked up at her, "Why me?" You didn't think you could trust her with the knowledge Mags had told you; that he had never touched her, and instead singled you out.

Her brush slowed, "I don't know."

"I'm no one, just a girl from District 6." You glanced down as she pulled her hand back. "I'm nobody."

"You're not." She whispered. "You're a-you won." Her back was to you as she set down her things, "He..."

You waited until she turned back around to look into her eyes, "He's a monster." She saw some goodness in him that wasn't there and you had no idea why.

Tigris was abhorred. "I don't know why he's doing this. He's possessive and his obsession drives him mad sometimes. I don't know. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." She packed her things quickly leaving the room in a panicked rush as you sat in silence.

An Avox came by an hour later leading you down the elevator and out where a sleek black car waited on the curb. Your heart stuttered as the door was held open for you a hand outstretched to help you inside. He was sitting within, red leather seats sinking you in. "How did you sleep?" He brushed a knuckle over his lips to hide the smirk as the door closed behind you.

"Good." You lied. It was deep, but waking up was jarring. You still felt the ache of his touch inside of you, the feel of his mouth wrapped around your clit. "Thank you Mr. President, sir."

His hand fell on your thigh. "I'm having you moved to the mansion." He told you, "I don't like you being so far away where I can't protect you." You swallowed the look in your eyes asking him, from what? "These men are desperate for you," He stroked your leg an attempt at a reassuring look in his eyes. "I'm afraid at what they might do before a deal is set. I want you close, where I know where you are all the time."

He wanted you in his cage, but he did have a point. "Thank you Mr. President, sir." Your heart thudded heavily in your chest. You didn't want a deal set, you didn't want other men hunting you down and taking more pieces of you. "Are we..." You gazed out the window. Are we going to one of them now, you wanted to ask.

"Yes and no; he'll come by the house later. I think you'll like him." He turned towards the window. "I want to show you something first." The drive was quiet. You were too afraid to ask anymore question in fear it would break your resolve further. He kept his hand on your leg and when the car stopped he held onto you tightly leading you away from the road towards his home. "You showed me yours; I think it only fitting I show you mine." He whispered close to your ear gripping around your waist as he led you down a side path towards what seemed to be a large greenhouse.

"Oh." You said staring up at it. It was a formidable beast defiantly more kept than your lousy garden at home. Was it even home anymore? You weren't quite sure of anything anymore. He had given you no inclination on when he would let you return. Perhaps when the 'deal' was set you would be allowed to leave until a new victor emerged. He opened the door for you leading you inside letting it click close. The room was covered in roses, just roses. "It's beautiful," You lied taking it all in. He had every color, but white roses took up most of the space, like they were beginning to dominate every root in the soil. It was too pristine, too clean to be anything but frighteningly horrid.

The greenhouse door locked into place, and your breath halted with it. You focused on a blooming white rose running your fingers along the soft petals. You don't know why the idea of being alone with him still scared you when he had seen you at your most vulnerable. "Did you enjoy last night?"

"The party was wonderful." You absentmindedly said; it wasn't what he was inquiring about.

He chuckled his footsteps slow coming closer, "Yes it was a nice party for you," He was standing behind you now. "Everyone was enchanted by you," He trailed his fingers down your skin. "They wouldn't stop talking about all the different ways they wanted to fuck you," His chest was pressing into your back as his hand slithered around your body coming up to your neck to grip your jaw, "But I got to taste your pleasure first, got to feel the softness of your tongue around my cock, got to hear all the pretty noises you make." Your throat bobbed feeling the hardness press into your backside as his thumb pressed into your bruised lip. "I know you enjoyed last night, my darling bluebell, by how drenched my face was buried in your sweet cunt for hours."

Hours. He had been there for hours between your legs, touching you, stealing from you, feasting on you while you were blacked out. You couldn't speak, couldn't move as the vision choked the air from you, his mouth dragging along the tense muscle in your neck.

"Do you still feel me down there?" He was bunching up the skirts of your dress. And maybe deep inside your brain it remembered him drawing orgasm after orgasm out of you because your body heated, your core grew slick. Treachery coursed through you at your body, at the fact it was less weary of him than you were. "You're fucking wet." He laughed as if he too was astounded by the moistness gathering in your panties as he rubbed his hands along the front of them. He became ravenous after then shoving his hand inside of you with such a force you fell forward. Potted plants clattered to the ground in a pile of dirt and glass, but he didn't care. He only shoved his hand deeper his body curling around you, enveloping you, "You're so fucking soft; like fucking rose petals." He pressed a third finger inside of you and you bit down on the scream, a small whine floating through the quiet air as he stretched you open. "You want my cock inside of you don't you?" He bit down on your neck, "You want me to fill you so badly, you want me to be the one to do it."

"No!" You cried out as he slammed your chest to the table the plants once sat on. The room was filled with the squelching sounds his hand made every brutal thrust into you, your arousal dripping down your legs. You gripped the table feeling him pulling your skirts up around your back, ripping off your underwear leaving you bare for him. You knew deep down your body would take him, suck him in greedily, allowing him to live there while you writhed in agony and embarrassment. Maybe it had something to do with the small power you felt that he was unable to control his desire for you, or maybe it was simple need. Wicked, cruel thing human nature seemed to be, she laughed at you while allowing him to take more, more, more.

You kicked your leg out trying to buck him off, but he slammed your head back down slapping your backside harshly, "Behave." He growled. You yelped as he slapped you once more his hand pulling out of you. He held you down by a large hand on your head as you squirmed, listening to him unsheathe himself.

"Please," You whimpered. "Please you don't want to do this. You-you said...you'll ruin me for your deal and-and-!”

He spit in your face the warmth of it landing along the corner of your lips and cheek. It trickled into your mouth and your tongue darted out for more. "Don't stutter." He yanked your hips back, "And be my good girl and fucking take it." You were crying now, crying as more wetness slipped out of you, crying as he ran his cock along your folds, crying as the tip of him lined up with your entrance, crying as you wanted him inside you so badly it burned.

A knock on the glass door stilled him before he could push inside of you and you nearly passed out from relief. "Sir?" Someone called inside, "Your guest has arrived."

You were taking large gulps of air every shake of your body rocking against the tip of him. "I'll be right there." He shouted back angrily. He was motionless behind you a deep frustrated sigh the only reminder he was there, a few moments from taking what he so desperately wanted it seemed. "Get on your knees." He pulled your body up and forced you to the ground, bare knees scraping in the broken glass. "Open your mouth." Your body relaxed as you took him; you knew this, you had been through this, you could take it, mouth moist from his spit. He wasn't as kind as before, if you could even call that kind. Forcing his cock to the back of your mouth, snapping his hips against your face as he yanked your hair around to move your head, "So good. So," Snap. "Fucking," Snap. "Good." He had your face buried within his skin as your tongue involuntarily swiped around him feeling his movements stutter at the unwarranted sensation. "You fucking like my cock inside your mouth." You weren't sure, but it was becoming familiar and the safer option, and you didn’t mind the taste of him. He reached down grabbing your hand pulling it to the shaft swirling around it with your palm, "Do it yourself sweet girl, do what I tell you."

So you did. You did what he wanted you to do, swirling your hand around the shaft, took his cock deeper until you gagged letting the spit spill out of the corners of your mouth. Your tongue ran along the head until his movements grew erratic and his thigh became taut hot ropes of cum spilling down your throat.

"Swallow it." He commanded snapping your jaw shut after he pulled out. "All of it." His breaths were heavy. You gazed up at him feeling the remnants trickle down your throat. His eyes were dark, demanding, obsessive. "I want you to kiss his cheek with my cum still on your breath." He left you on the ground as he went to the door. "Clean her up, get her ready for lunch." He called to some servant.

You glanced down at the dirt staining your chest from where he slammed you, the blood blooming on the dress from your scraped knees, your smeared makeup no doubt. You let them help you up and cart you back to the house.

An hour later, and now a pink dress covering your skin, you sat down at the table. It was a small thing, set to fit only six people in a small room cascaded in sunlight. The windows were open letting in warm air and a breeze that ruffled the curtains. He sat to the chair next to you cutting into his food while he spoke to you...buyer. The highest bidder.

The man was handsome, maybe a tad older than the darling President, but not by much. He had dark hair and darker eyes a slight shadow of a beard gracing his features. He wore a light blue suit that was almost tacky compared to Snow's deep green. You shook your head at the ridiculousness of comparing the two, comparing the buyer to the seller.

And yet, President Snow's presence comforted you, which in turn disgusted you. It gave you a headache and you drank dainty sips from your cup of sparkling wine hoping to avoid the feelings this afternoon was invoking from you. A mere hour ago he was shoving his cock down your throat, and you had savored the flavor of him. Now he was wanting money for your virtue. You glanced across the table once more.

You had won the games, and this was your peace they had promised.

There was no winning. Only surviving.

He left after an hour long lunch barely speaking to you at all, but when he left he grabbed you. He pulled you in close hand blatantly spread across your back side as he forced you to kiss his cheek. Could he smell it? Could he smell his President's cum stuck between your teeth?

When he left Snow had an anger to him which surprised you given the fact he was the one pawning you off, he should be happy.

Your eyes met, sunlight heating your back from the window as you watch his teeth grind together never looking away from you. Then your face began to fall, knees wobbling, at the realization of the reason behind his anger.

He forced you away without another word.

PART THREE HERE!

( its disgustingly smutty so bring holy water )

notes: this had WAY too much plot sorry lmao

tags: @astarborntowrite , @genderfluid-anime-goth , @merlieve , @darktrashsoulbear

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus smut #coriolanus x you #coryo x reader #coryo smut #dark fanfic #fanfic #dark fanfiction #hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coryo snow #president coriolanus snow #dark coriolanus snow #dark coriolanus

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serenewrote · 1 month

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"I'll follow you down 'til the sound of my voice will haunt you" - Aegon Targaryen II x Cousin! reader

Synopsis: After the events of the disagreement of Driftmark's succession, such as the "unfortunate" death of Vaemond Valeryon, the family indulges in a nice dinner where you give your cousin an offer he shouldn't refuse.

Rating: PG-13

Warning(s): attempted manipulation (my girl almost had him fr).

You are seated at your father's left side, patiently waiting. You and your father, Daemon, glance at each other. He looks at you in discontent and you give him a look, he knows you won't let up.

King Viserys stands, well more like leans on the table, and speaks, "How good it is... to see you all tonight... together."

"Prayer before we begin?"

"Yes."

The Queen Alicent begins to pray, "May the Mother smile down on this gathering with love. May the Smith mend the bonds that have been broken for far too long."

You rolled your eyes. What does she thinks she's doing?

"And to Vaemond Velaryon, may the gods give him rest."

You snicker at the last remark, may the gods give him hell. Vaemond was out of his mind.

"This is an occasion for celebration, it seems. My grandsons, Jace and Luke, will marry their cousins, Baela and Rhaena, further strengthening the bond between our houses. A toast to the young Princes... and their betrothed."

You smile, proud of your sisters and how they've grown. "Hear, hear!"

Aegon leans over to whisper to Jace, "Well done, Jace. You'll finally get to lie with a woman."

Baela takes a drink and looks at him in annoyance. She then turns to look at you. You make eye contact. Do not worry, dear sister. He'll get his due.

You take a look at your cousin. How pathetic? Your women will chew him up and spit him out. Not before you have your turn, of course.

"Let us toast as well to Prince Lucerys... the future Lord of the Tides.

"Hear, hear."

Aegon leans over to Jace, once again.

"You do know how the act is done, I assume? At least in principle? Where to put your cock and all that."

"Let it be, cousin."

"You can play the jester if you wish, but hold your tongue before my betrothed."

Aegon hums in fake agreeance. You zone out halfway, coming back seeing Jace take Helaena to dance. You see your father nod in your peripheral. You move to Jace's seat and lean to whisper in Aegon's ear.

"Dearest cousin, I heard of the little situation with a servant girl this morning."

Aegon looks at you. Why the hell are you talking to him?

"What of it, cousin."

"I- It must feel so restricting. Not being able to do what you truly want, having to marry someone you feel no love for."

"Well, I don't see a man at your side, cousin. Did you scare them off."

"Quite the contrary, Aegon. Unlike all these other ladies of the court, I don't need a man at my side to have power. I'm free to bed whoever I want, whenever I want."

Aegon grits his teeth at your clear mocking, "How lucky you are, Y/n."

You smirk internally. Hook, Line, and Sinker. "I could help you, of course. The women of Dorne love men like you, cousin. Princely, Silver-haired, Targaryen. Personally, I like my men: pathetic... and good for one thing."

You lean closer. Your lips grazing his ear, "I could take you away from here. To Dorne. You'd be away from all of this. Away from your mother, who seems to only care about image. You'd be free, Aegon."

He looks at you, his eyes growing desperate. He's actually considering it.

Just then, a servant sets a roasted pig down. Lucerys chuckles. Aemond hits the table, anger evident. He stands, goblet in hand.

"Final tribute. To the health of my nephews: Jace... Luke... and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise... hm.... strong."

"Aemond."

"Come... let us drain our cups to these three... Strong boys."

Jace gets in Aemond's face, "I dare you say that again."

"Why? Was only a compliment. Do you not think yourself Strong?"

Jace punches Aemond as Luke gets up and Aegon slams his head on the table. You look the boys in disgust. One normal night. Just one, please?

"Why would you say such a thing before these people?"

"I was merely expressing how proud I am of my family, Mother. Mm, though it seems my nephews aren't quite as proud of theirs."

Rhaenyra turns to Jace, Luke, and your sisters, "Go to your quarters. All of you go, now."

Your father looks at you expectantly. You whisper in Aegon's ear one last time, "Seems as though you are happy here, cousin. Being a nuisance. Forever at the beck and call of your mother and grandsire."

You leave him, walking over to your father and Rhaenyra, "Goodnight, Father, Rhaenyra." You retreat to your chambers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As Aegon stands in front of the people, having been crowned King, he thinks back to your words. The offer sounding so convincing. If only he hadn't acted out, then maybe the sound of your voice and your sweet words wouldn't haunt him.

fin.

Oh. My. God. I don't know if I love or hate this because I straight pulled this out of my ass.

Also for further context, you are Daemon's oldest daughter. Your mother is one of the eldest children of Qoren Martell and the reason why you aren't married is because you really don't need a husband. Your mother has a twin brother and so you will rule alongside your cousin as it is not known which one of them came first.

#house of the dragon #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen #team black #gaslight gatekeep girlboss

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flowerandblood · 9 months

Text

The Impossible Choice (16)

[ Aemond • Targaryen x Baratheon! • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, oral sex, angst, smut, violence ]

[description: Aemond comes to Storm's End to choose his future consort. However, Lord Borros Baratheon presents him with only four of his five daughters. Being attached to his youngest child, he does not want to marry her. The prince, however, thwarts his and her plans with his decision. This is slow burn, with a lot of dark angst and sexual tension. (Anon Request)]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

______

When he returned to the supper to join his family he tried with all his might to hide what was going on in his breeches. He didn't know why, but her words had aroused him tremendously and if he could, he would just take her to his chamber and fuck her all night.

I don't hate you.

You're not a monster.

You're not like your brother.

He sat back in his seat and tried to focus on what was happening on around him, but each time he drifted completely away with his thoughts, no longer even looking at his uncle or nephew.

He felt some kind of savage satisfaction at the thought that he didn't disgust or repel her.

That she didn't think that he and his brother were alike.

Those few words were enough to make his momentary anger at her and his uncle evaporate from him completely; he thought that he had no intention of spoiling his mood that evening anymore, wanting to concentrate only on thinking about what he should do with her at night, how to take her to reward her for her devotion.

He didn't even notice that the servants had started to lay out trays of main courses in front of them until he heard a quiet chuckle in front of him. He glanced in that direction and saw, frustrated that for some reason a barely restrained, mischievous smirk was painted on Luke's face.

It made him enraged and he wondered for a moment what that was all about but then he saw what was placed in front of him.

A roast pig.

The Pink Dread.

He felt something inside him snap, some last thread that held his cool mind together burst. He slammed his fist on the table, grinning, raising his cup high.

"Final tribute."

He said, glancing at Luke with a look from which his smile faded from his face, replaced by a proud concern.

"To the health of my nephews."

He murmured soundly, looking around the room, wanting to see the reaction of the others as well.

"Jace,

Luke,

and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise…" He paused, his lips pressed into a thin line. He hesitated to say it, but then nodded, concluding that he didn't give a fuck. "… Strong."

"Aemond." His mother said warningly, looking around the table in horror.

"Come. Let us drain our cups for this three Strong boys." He said with delight, seeing the horror of everyone gathered, the chaos he had caused.

He no longer cared what would happen, he had never felt such wild satisfaction before in his life.

"I dare you to say that again." Hissed Jace, lifting his chin proudly, trying to hide his fear and humiliation. He felt like sneering at this pathetic sight and turned, walking slowly towards him.

"Why? 'Twas only a compliment. Do you not think yourself Strong?" He asked lightly and didn't even flinch when Jace hit him in the face with all his might, thinking with amusement that his wife would have had a stronger punch than he did.

He pushed Jace away with such ease that the boy toppled to the ground. This sight amused him so much that he chuckled loudly, looking around, wanting to see Aegon react to this, seeing with satisfaction that his older brother was pressing Luke's face to the table top.

After a moment they were separated by the guards, his mother came up to him agitated, grabbing his arm.

"Why would you say such a thing before these people?" She asked with a regret and pain that infuriated him.

He wondered how she could so quickly forget what they had done to him.

"I was merely expressing how proud I am of my family, Mother." He said, feigning light-heartedness, impatiently pulling his hand from her grasp, heading towards his enraged nephews again.

"Mm, though it seems my nephews aren't quite proud of theirs!" He called out softly, feeling that he was on the verge of insanity, the fire flowing in his blood.

He stopped, as his uncle stood before him. Daemon looked at him piteously, folding his hands in front of him, sighing expectantly. They looked at each other intensely.

He knew that he could not confront him.

Yet.

He decided that it have to wait.

He grunted low, sidestepping him, walking slowly out of the room into the corridor, moving straight ahead to his chamber.

He felt like he was trembling all over, thinking that he could kill someone right now.

That he would like to kill someone.

To strangle someone with his own hands.

When he stepped into his quarters, his wife was waiting for him obediently, all bare, just as he commanded. He pressed his lips together, feeling frustration and rage, all the lust he had inside him flowed out, giving place to the physical brutality that he craved.

He quickly undid his leather tunic, dropping it to the floor.

"Lie down on your stomach." He said coolly, walking over to her, grabbing her brutally by the hips, he heard her tremble all over, her breathing frightened.

She knew that something was wrong.

She knew that he was enraged.

He knelt behind her, untying his breeches and took his length in his hand, beginning to squeeze himself with quick, sharp strokes. He tried to focus on the sight of her, on her naked body, but he felt nothing.

Her dance with his uncle.

His hands touching hers.

Luke's mischievous smile.

The Pink Dread.

After a moment, a loud, frustrated growl came out of him.

He couldn't believe that he couldn't make himself hard.

He couldn't take his wife, do what is natural for a man, for a husband.

He collapsed next to her on the bedclothes and turned away, ordering her to sleep, knowing that otherwise he would hurt her.

He would take it out on her.

He squeezed his eye shut, furious, when he felt her embrace him.

He didn't want her sympathy, her feminine, weak sense that she needed to comfort him.

"− let me relieve you, husband −"

He felt his heart thump harder at her words and hesitated, no longer knowing himself what he wanted.

He feared that even her efforts wouldn't do anything.

That it would enrage him even more.

She didn't let him think about it though, a pleasant shiver went through him as he felt her soft, moist lips on his neck.

"− turn over on your back − I’ll take care of you −"

He swallowed loudly, thinking that he needed this.

He needed his wife to take care of him.

To show him that he was all that mattered to her.

He turned as she requested, looking at her discouraged, letting her lie down between his thighs, settling into a more comfortable, semi-sitting position.

He saw her untie his breeches in a sure, gentle motion, revealing the pitiful sight that was his soft manhood. He felt ashamed at the sight and wanted to order her to stop, but when she took him in her soft hand and licked him with a tip of her pink tongue a powerful, pleasurable shiver went through him.

He thought about saying to her that it was pointless, that he'd had enough, but he just looked at her face and shuddered every time she kissed and caressed his swollen manhood with her moist, puffy lips.

She was behaving differently from usual, she wasn't in a hurry, she hadn't even taken him in her mouth yet.

He felt his manhood throbbing under her fingers harder and harder, his body calming down thanks to her gentle caresses. He leaned his head against the back of the bed and let her do what she wanted to him.

He moaned softly, gripping her hair with his hand as she began to tease him, sliding the tip of his member into her mouth only to release it with a loud, sticky plop.

He thought there had been some amazing change in her, and while she still remained innocent and gentle, there was a greater experience speaking through her that gave her confidence in her actions.

He no longer had to direct her on what to do, being able to concentrate only on enjoying the pleasure of her touch.

I don't hate you.

You're not a monster.

You're not like your brother.

He felt his cock twitch at that memory, increasingly swollen and sore, thinking surprised that what she was doing was working, a loud, low, delighted moan broke from his throat as she finally slid his manhood into deep between her fleshy mouth.

Unable to stop himself, he clenched his hand tighter in her hair, forcing her to fit all of him, rocking his hips inside her, panting hard, he could hear her breathing loudly through her nose.

"− oh, fuck − made to suck my cock, didn’t you? − so fucking perfect for me −" He breathed out, clasping his other hand in her hair, fucking her gorgeous mouth with the sticky, perverted click of her saliva, watching as his manhood slid away and back up between her lips, hitting again and again the back of her throat.

So devoted.

So good.

So sweet.

His little wife.

"− so good for me − ah − my sweetest −" He mumbled with delight, shocked by his own tender, soft tone, a complete contrast to what he had felt just a moment ago.

He thought, feeling his fulfilment approaching that with her he was the best version of himself.

With her he believed that he could still be a decent man.

With her he wasn't sinking into his increasingly progressive madness.

The thought made him moan loudly for some reason, clenching his fingers in her hair, his hips slamming greedily his fat, hard cock into her mouth. He parted his lips, feeling like he was about to spill himself down her throat.

"− o-oh fuck − gods, yes, swallow it, swallow it all −" He uttered, tilting his head back with his lips parted wide, panting loudly with relief, his hot seed filling her palate.

He watched with delight as she bravely swallowed his spend, breathing loudly through her nose, tears of exertion running down her flushy face.

When she finally released him from between her plump lips, there was not a trace of his seed.

He pulled her to him by her hair, pressing her against his hard abdomen, embracing her with a loud sigh of contentment.

She showed him understanding when he was most helpless.

She gave him wonderful fulfilment even though she was terrified of his behaviour.

He stroked her hair, trying to think only about the warmth of her body, feeling her shifting higher, laying her head on his chest only to fall asleep with him in this position.

When he was woken before dawn by a commotion outside the door of their chamber and the raised voices of the guards, he knew immediately that something had happened. His wife mumbled quietly when he rose, gripping his arm, he sighed looking at her, his hand stroking her hair.

"Go back to sleep." He hummed, getting out of bed, fastening his breeches. He put on his leather tunic and left his chamber, closing the door behind him.

He saw, surprised and concerned, that the guards were taking their servants somewhere, all around him besides he saw not a living soul, his heart pounding like a mad.

He went to his mother's and Aegon's chambers, but did not find them there.

He wondered what was happening.

He finally stepped into Helaena's quarters and saw his mother sitting beside his sister, tears of grief and pain in her eyes, her face pale and terrified. Then he understood.

His father was dead.

For a moment all he could hear was the beating of his own heart.

He didn't know how he felt about it.

Everyone assumed that he had very little time left, but he didn't think it would so quickly.

He thought that he would never say anything to him again.

His mother stood up and walked to him, putting her hands on his shoulders, stroking him with reassuring movements.

"Your father the king told me before he died that he wished for Aegon to be a king." She said quietly, looking at him with her warm, brown eyes, full of motherly love.

He did not believe her.

"My father despised my older brother. Like all of us." He said impatiently, recognising that she must have overheard.

He didn't want to see his whore half-sister on the throne, but his brother wasn't suited for it either.

He was created for drinking and lying between the whores' tits.

"Aemond. We must crown him as soon as possible." She whispered and he looked at her in disbelief.

She meant it.

She wanted to make Aegon king.

A drunkard.

A fool.

A rapist.

"What do my brother say about it?" He asked, feigning indifference, trying to hide his dismay, frustration and anxiety at what was happening around them.

He thought this was all one big misunderstanding.

His mother tightened her lips at his question, remaining silent. He looked at her expectantly, and when he realised what had happened he chuckled low, shaking his head, walking impatiently around the room.

"When was the last time he was seen?" He asked coolly, wondering where he might have gone.

He thought of the brothel he'd been taken to when he was only 13.

His mother shook her head, putting her hand on her chest in an attempt to calm herself.

"I have no idea." She said helplessly, holding back the tears that were once again gathering at the corners of her eyes, her body trembling with stress.

"I summoned Ser Criston, I want him to find him." She said and he murmured under his breath, sitting down by the fireplace, thoughtful.

If Aegon was to become king that changed everything.

If he died, his children would be too young to rule in his name.

He would become prince regent, and his sweet wife would be his queen.

He pressed his lips together at that pleasant thought.

Indeed, after a moment Ser Cole joined them wearing full armour, bowing low before them.

"My queen. In accordance with your orders, the servants have been confined to the dungeons. Prince Aemond's wife and Princess Rhaenys have been locked in their chambers."

He gave him a quick, furious look, standing up at once, walking over to his mother.

"What is the meaning of this, mother? My wife will now be a prisoner?" He hissed, enraged with the fact that anyone had the impudence to make decisions that involved her.

She belonged only to him.

His mother looked at him pleadingly, placing her hand on his shoulder.

"We must be sure that no one leaves the keep until we crown Aegon. We need to do it before word reaches Rhaenyra. It is the only solution." She said softly, wanting him to understand, but he pulled away from her.

"I will join you in the search for my brother, Cole. Don't go anywhere without my knowledge." He said lowly, walking out of the chamber.

He headed back to his quarters and ordered the servants to open the door, his wife rose from her bed, terrified, dressed only in her nightgown and a thin, translucent robe worn over her shoulders tied at her waist.

The guard closed the door behind him as he came up to her, grabbing her by her neck and kissing her forehead, seeing how shaken she was.

"What's happening? Lyanna's nowhere to be found, they've locked me in and won't let me leave." She mumbled terrified, he took her cheeks in his large hands so that she looked at him with a quiet sigh.

"My father is dead."

She froze in mid-breath, her eyes grew wide with disbelief.

He could see that she was analysing in her head what would happen now.

Their six-month marital idyll had just ended.

"My mother is going to crown Aegon king. She said that was my father's last wish." He said dispassionately.

He saw the look in her eyes.

She didn't believe it any more than he did, but nothing could be done.

He stepped closer to her, pressing his forehead against hers, feeling the adrenaline flowing through his veins.

"Will you stand by me? Will you be faithful and devoted to me?" He asked quietly, as if whispering about something forbidden, as if a stranger might hear them.

She looked at him in disbelief not understanding what he meant, unable to comprehend what he craved and what he was capable of doing to achieve it.

She nodded, touching his scarred cheek with her palm, stroking it with her soft fingers. He felt desire at the gesture, at the thought that she would be by his side.

That he would make her his queen.

He kissed her greedily, making her lose her breath, their moist lips sucking and rubbing against each other in a sticky, hot dance. He pulled away from her, running his hand over her cheek, as if he wanted to remember her expression and this moment well.

"Don't speak to anyone about the king's death or coronation. Do not confide in anyone. Trust only me."

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @astral-blossoms @randomdragonfires @amirawritespoorly @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9 @fudge13 @snh96 @diosademuerte @rwdkarla @echos-muses @ipostwhtifeel @letmeloveyouuuu @yentroucnagol @valeskafics

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taytrashmouth · 5 months

Text

Peeta mellark x reader

(The hunger games)

Remember requests are open so please send them in!!!!

It was a quiet day in district 12. And everything would’ve been at peace if it weren’t the last day of the games. That Peeta was still in.

You told gale to call you when it was only down to a few tributes, you couldn’t watch Peeta and Katniss. Not after the way he left.

“Peeta Mellark.” Effie trinket read with a smile, your heart dropped as you watched him ascend the stage. Your throat ran dry and you couldn’t speak, you wanted to call for him but no words came out. Tears streamed down your face as you made your way to the empty aisle where Katniss has volunteered for her sister.

He looked down at me, but not for long. He couldn’t seem to bare it. A part of me knew he wouldn’t come home- I had seen the way those other tributes played.

I stood there until a peace keeper hit me across the cheek and shoved me back into place, I saw Peeta lunge forward but a peace keeper held him too.

When I was allowed to say goodbye I entered the small room after his family has left.

I hugged him tightly and he returned the gesture. “Peeta you have to survive.” You spoke firmly holding his face.

He started to object but you interrupted. “Promise me you’ll try to win!”

“I promise.” He was being genuine.

His hand brushed hair behind your ear and lingered on your cheek.

“You know- since you stood up for me against those boys when we were 12, I’ve never admired someone so much.”

You smiled whilst your cheeks turned red, you didn’t look away though, you couldn’t. This could be the last time you see him.

“You are so smart, and shy but you stand up for what you believe in, even when that means putting yourself out there. You’re funny and creative. I’ve never met someone who loves bread as much as you and-“ Peeta was rambling.

“Peeta..” you tried to question where he was leading in you Mr final moments.

“You’re beautiful n/n…and I guess all I’m trying to say is that I love you.” He looked nervously at your expression. “I have since the day I met you.”

“Peeta I- I love you too.” You smiled and cried at the same time.

“I wish I told you sooner.” He cried too.

“Yeah, me too.” He hugged you tightly.

As you both pulled out of the hug, with tear stained faces. You were leaning into each others touch. Lips barely grazing before two peace keepers were ripping you away. You screamed as they pulled you away.

“You’ll kiss me when you come home!” You yelled as they picked you up.

A boy from the mines ran out of the local bar to inform me that gale was calling. When I saw gale he couldn’t look away.

Peeta and Katniss were being hunted by some rabid hybrid.

You couldn’t watch for a while, until Cato found them and the stakes became a lot higher. You watched Peetas head almost become a meal and watched as he was held at gunpoint. You held gales hand in support as he did yours.

You hid your face in your other hand often.

When the last canon had fired you let out a breath you weren’t aware you were holding in.

“They won.” You smiled at gale.

Just as they announced 2 tributes from the same district can no longer win.

You began to cry. And then harder when Katniss handed Peeta those stupid berries.

You dropped gales hand and ran out of the bar. You couldn’t watch him die. You wouldn’t. You ran deep into the meadow and fell to your knees. You screamed. You were angry at the capitol, angry that you didn’t have more time with Peeta. You had lost the best thing in your life.

You stayed there for hours, crying and remembering.

You stayed out there in the meadow for a day or two. Sleeping under the trees. Forgetting about food or water.

When you finally went home in that third day you took a cold shower, wishing you had gone in his place.

In the early evening there was a knock on your door. You swung the door open expecting to tell whoever it was to come back some other day.

But when you saw the boy you longed for you began to sob. He grabbed you tightly, hugging you with everything he had.

“I thought you were dead-“ you sobbed into his shoulder. “I’m here now it’s okay.” He whispered into your ear and stroked your hair.

When you had both calmed down, he lead you to the river. Not many people knew about it.

And there it was, a picnic blanket with 3 types of bread in a basket accompanied by some fancy drink from the capitol.

“Peeta.” You smiled becoming all giddy. Running down to the blanket, Peeta followed with a smile, knowing he had made you happy.

“You like it?” He asked sitting down.

“It’s perfect.” You blushed, and ripped a piece of the soft bread loaf. “Mmmm… oh my god I missed this. There is no good bread in the world without you Mr Mellark.” you smiled.

“It was all an act…” he spoke up. He looked scared. “Me and her.”

You smiled sadly to yourself.

“It wasn’t real?” You asked him genuinely to assure yourself, letting your insecurities get the better of you.

“Promise.” He whispered.

“Then you owe me a kiss, Mr-“ you were interrupted when he pulled you in and kissed you passionately. You squealed as he flipped you into your back, leaning over you into the kiss.

When he pulled away from air you giggled. “I’m really glad I’m home.” He smiled. You laughed again.

“Me too…”

You spent the rest of the evening holding each other, kissing and talking about all the times you missed each other over the past month.

“You are beautiful you know that.” He smiled, holding you in his lap looking at the water.

“You’re really pretty yourself…lover boy.” You teased tilting your head back and looking up at him.

“I hate that!” He cringed.

“Okay okay, I’ll stop.” You turned around to face him. “Lover boy.” You repeated and immediately screamed and ran away. He was hot on your trail. Smiling and chasing you.

When he caught you he spun you around smothering you in kisses, carrying you back with your legs dangling. Both laughing and smiling.

#y/n #thg peeta #peeta x reader #team peeta #peeta mellark x reader #the hunger games peeta #peeta mellark #peeta my beloved #the hunger games #may the odds be ever in your favor #katniss everdeen #gale hawthorne #thg fanfiction #thg #peeta supremacy #fluff

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rainbowmilk · 4 months

Text

Don’t Forget Me II

I was not planning on writing another part, but I couldn’t help myself

Warning: Language (?)

Treech x Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

series masterlist | <- Prev Next -> |

After the mayor finishes his speech, it only takes seconds before Peacekeepers grab you. They rip you and Treech apart, ignoring your shouts of protest. Treech tries to reach for your hand again, but the Peacekeepers yank him back, nearly knocking him over.

The soldiers marched you to the train station towards an old cargo car locked with a heavy padlock. As you stood in front of the train car, you nearly gagged. The stench was overwhelming. The cart smelled rotted and thick with manure. You doubt they’d even bothered to clean it. You desperately didn’t want to get in, but you had no choice.

One of the Peacekeepers took out a set of keys to unlock the train, and the rest started shoving you in. Treech acted quickly, lugging himself in and stretching his arm out to help you up. But it must’ve taken too long because a peacekeeper grabbed you by the back of the neck and tossed you onto the train. You barely managed to catch yourself.

Treech rushed to your side, pulling you up off the ground. “Are you alright? Did they hurt you?” he questioned as he cupped your face, eyes scanning you for injuries.

“I’m fine, just tired of being treated like a sack of flour.” You chuckled bitterly while rubbing your neck.

District Seven was one of the last districts to get picked up, so you didn’t have to spend nearly as long on the train as other districts. A thought that filled you with relief when you felt something crawling near your feet. You could vaguely see the outlines of the other tributes. Though none of them made much noise. You could almost believe you were alone.

As the train chugged along, you and Treech shuffled over to an empty corner, trying to get comfortable. He grabs your hand and plays with it gently, his fingers interlocking with yours. Something about the action brings tears to your eyes. You never considered your hands pretty, filled with callouses from hours of demanding work, but by the way, he holds them, they might as well be made of porcelain.

When you first spoke to Treech, you’d quite literally fallen for him. Despite being in the same class, you’d never directly spoken. He was always surrounded by his friends, his laugh filling up the room (not that you were paying attention). You mostly kept to yourself. Honestly, you don’t know what made him approach you that day, but you’re so grateful he did.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

“What are you doing?” a small voice exclaimed up at you.

You jumped at the sudden noise and slipped from the branch you were perched on. You weren’t very high up, but the impact left you gasping for breath.

As you lay on the ground, your vision was blurred, but you could make out a boy peering down at you. His eyes narrowed slightly in concern.

After you regained your bearings, you grumbled, “Well, before you interrupted me, I was drawing.”

“Oh…Sorry,” the boy chuckled awkwardly. He fidgeted slightly before asking, “Can I see your drawing? I’m Treech, by the way. We go to school together…In case you don’t know who I am.”

You wanted to roll your eyes. Of course, you knew who Treech was. You lived across from each other and were in the same class. You decided not to mention that, hoping to spare yourself the embarrassment of him not noticing.

“I know who you are, and no, you can’t see,” you respond before climbing back up the tree.

You were going to continue sketching until you noticed he was still standing there looking oddly dejected. A wave of guilt hits you when you realize you may have come off as rude.

“Hey, sorry... I didn’t mean it like that. I’ll show you when I’m done if you want to join me,” you say before patting the branch.

Treech perked up at that, beaming up at you. You decide he looks much nicer when smiling. He climbed up the tree, plopping himself next to you. Neither of you talked after that. You continued to sketch, and he sat with you, swinging his legs back and forth.

Soon enough, it became routine that whenever you went to the tree, he’d be there waiting for you. You started talking at school as well. Slowly, he became a constant presence in your life. Now, years later, you can confidently say he’s your best friend.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

The sound of the whistleblowing snapped you back to the present. You must be arriving at a station. The train screeched as it came to a halt. From the outside, you could hear the chains rattling as they were unlocked. The doors slid open, and the District One tributes were staring back at you. In what felt like seconds, they were hastily thrown into the cart, and the door was locked once again.

The journey to the Capitol couldn’t have taken much longer, but it felt like an eternity in the damp train. Eventually, you heard the familiar whistle, and the train slowed to a stop. The tributes started shuffling, but the minutes passed, and nothing happened. At least another ten minutes must’ve passed before you heard banging against the doorframe. The door was wrenched open, and a peacekeeper shouted, “All right, you lot, let’s move!”

The sudden influx of light was nearly blinding. You had to take a moment to adjust. Treech is one step ahead of you, already jumping down before offering you his arms. You allow him to take you by the waist and swing you down to the pavement.

You were grateful for Treech’s quick reaction as you watched the Peacekeepers get rougher the longer it took the remaining tributes to crawl out. You take a moment to look around under different circumstances, you’d be gawking at the architecture, but that all feels insignificant now. While looking around, you see a boy dressed in red talking to one of the tributes. He looks too clean to be a tribute but too skinny to be a Peacekeeper.

You didn’t get much time to ponder who he was because Peacekeepers began herding you and the rest of the tributes across the station to the main entrance. Where a truck that looked more like a cage on wheels awaited you.

The tribute who is missing part of his arm, tried to make a run for it, but he didn’t even make a few feet before he was dragged back. You hopped onto the cramped van, and Treech immediately guided you into one of the last open seats before positioning himself next to you.

From the corner of your eye, you saw a flash of red jump moments before the doors closed. To your surprise, it was the boy from the train station. A thick tension settled over the truck as you all stared him down. He hunched over, realizing his precarious situation. You turned your head to meet Treech’s eyes. Both of you amused at the boy's obvious discomfort.

“What’s the matter, pretty boy? You in the wrong cage?” said the boy from District 11 Reaper, if you remember correctly. How ironic, you can’t help but think.

You missed what the Capitol boy said, but it must've been something insulting because, in the blink of an eye, Reaper’s hands encircled the boy's throat and slammed him back. Reaper’s forearms pinned the other boy’s body against the bars. Trying to keep himself from being killed, the Capitol boy drove his knee up hard into Reaper’s crotch. You wanted to laugh, but you doubt that would’ve been received well.

He might kill you now.” The girl from District 11 coughed out. “He killed a Peacekeeper back in Eleven. They never found out who did it.”

“Shut it, Dill,” the boy growled.

“Who cares now?” said the girl fro—Dill.

“Let’s all kill him,” said another voice, “Can’t do nothing worse to us.”

You wouldn’t consider yourself bloodthirsty, but a part of you agreed, besides the Capitol boy brought it on himself. Several other tributes also murmured in agreement and took a step in. The way the boy went rigid with fear almost made you pity him.

Before anyone could do anything, the rainbow girl spoke up. “Not to us, maybe. You got family back home? Someone they could punish there?”

With that, all the anger was sucked out of you, replaced with a gaping hopelessness. The girl then stood up and wriggled through to place herself between all of you and the Capitol boy.

“Besides,” she said, “he’s my mentor. Supposed to help me. I might need him.”

“How come you get a mender?” Snapped a girl with short red hair. Glaring daggers into the Capitol boy. You couldn’t help but agree. Why did she get extra help?

“Mentor. You each get one,” he corrected.

“Where are they, then?” The redhead challenged. “Why didn’t they come?”

“Just not inspired, I guess,” the rainbow girl replied before winking at her mentor.

You turned to Treech again and dramatically rolled your eyes. The small smile that graced his face filled your chest with warmth. Sometimes, you wished he wasn’t so good-looking. You hated that one smile was all it took to make butterflies swarm your stomach.

The conversation lulled, and silence filled the truck as it drove down the winding roads. Suddenly, the truck lurched to a stop, jerking all of you forward. At that moment you were grateful you had nothing in your stomach because you’d surely have thrown it up.

A Peacekeeper came and opened the back door to the truck, but before anyone could climb out, the cage tipped and dumped you onto a slab of cold, damp cement. Not a slab, actually more like a chute, it was tilted at such an extreme angle that all of you began to slide immediately. You all traveled a good twenty feet before landing in a jumbled heap on the floor.

You gingerly untangled from the others before making your way over to Treech. Cringing at the groans from the tributes you accidentally crawled on top of.

You brushed his hair back and readjusted his hat, “Treech,” you whispered, “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay, don't worry” he responded as he pulled you into his arms. You allow yourself to relax, nuzzling into his shoulder. Trying to calm down from the chaos of the day.

It isn’t until you hear a small giggle that you turn around and see two young girls pointing at the two of you. They watch you through metal bars, gawking. You pull away slightly, feeling oddly self-conscious. Treech seems to notice as well, looking equally uncomfortable.

Confused, you start to scan the area. Metal bars enclose you. To your left, there is a cluster of thin trees, and rocky sand lines the ground. Suddenly a nauseating realization hits you.

They’d put you in a fucking zoo.

#tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #treech tbosas #feedback appreciated #the hunger games #treech x reader #coriolanus snow #lucy gray baird #reaper ash

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orangepeetals · 5 months

Text

ACURRUCAR ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა (pt1)

(playlist for a star series)

PEETA MELLARK X F. READER.

pt2

summary: You n’ Peeta have been best friends since you were kids, you win the Hunger games once n’ you’re a mentor now.

a/n: i speak Spanish so the story was originally written in Spanish and then I translated it into English, plz don’t be rude if there is a mistake

You and Peeta were inseparable, they knew each other for as long as you remembered. When they were at school and they were little, you never talked to him until you defended him from some children who were bothering him because of the marks of the blows he received from his mother, you didn’t know what caused that feeling in you but you just couldn’t stand how they were intimidating him, you took a couple of blows too but they never bothered the bread boy again, since then, he followed you as if he were a puppy.

They grew up together, they suffered together, Peeta did not exist without you, nor you without him, they were for each other in every possible way, they were simply soulmates.

When you were 15 years old, ur name was selected as a tribute to the hunger games, every day you thought about it, Peeta clung to you while he drowned in tears, you remember how he apologized to you for not being able to do anything and how he begged you to stay alive, you were going to do it, you could not die, not seeing Peeta suffer in this way, you knew that he would not stand it and he deserved to live a beautiful life with you.

It took you a while to realize it but you knew it that time they were by a lake in district 12, it had been a couple of months since you had survived the hunger games with only strategy. The sky began to look like a soft orange, the breeze hit his blond curls while his cheeks were pink, you could see his eyes shine and his hands tremble as he approached your face, you felt the warm touch of his lips against yours and you thought that you would melt at that moment, Their hearts became one and sealed their love with the sunset, he loves you with every part of his being and you could give your life in exchange for his without thinking about it.

You would really give up your life in exchange for his, you would live for Peeta and you would kill for Peeta if you had to.

You would really do it.

You were on the train together with your mentor Haymitch watching the reapin, you hated the games as much as Abernathy did but you had to know who would be the poor children who would have to train this year, it was the second year that you had to be a mentor since you won the hunger games, both times without any success, it was difficult for someone from district 12 to win, in the whole history of the hunger games there were only three of them and only Haymitch and you were alive, you were looking out the window until you saw how a girl volunteered as a tribute for who seemed to be her sister, tears slid down your cheeks when you saw the scene, that girl had the courage they needed, that feat made you believe that this year they could achieve it, you stood in front of the tv while Haymitch was still living something strange sitting on the couch, now it was the turn of the male tribute.

“Peeta Mellark”

Fear and despair consumed your body, your legs trembled so much that you fell to the ground while you cried inconsolably, you put your trembling hand in your mouth to drown a cry of anguish, this was not happening, it was not happening again, you knew that sometimes they tricked the draws to get people close to other winners to make the things more interesting but you always made an effort to hide Peeta from the public eye and that no one knew that they were a couple, you did not want to expose him to anything but it was happening, they could not take the love of your life, they could not take your Life partner, to your soulmate, to the arms that protected you every time something distressed you. You hated everything, fucking capitol, it didn’t matter anymore, now you and your mentor were going to have to send two boys to death again and this time one of them was the person you loved the most on the planet.

“Oh, shit... this is fucked up” Haymitch’s voice was rough, you could feel the pity in her. His hands lifted you off the floor and put you on the couch while he knelt at your height, hugging you.

“N-no i don’t understand... why him?! No one in the capitol knows about him, I don’t think he’s just so unlucky... Haymitch please, I need you to help me!” Your voice broke more, you hugged Haymitch tightly as he tried to calm you down. “We’ll see what we can do, remember that it’s not just him” The man was right but nothing mattered, nothing could matter to you more than Peeta.

“Haymitch, I’m sorry for that girl but it’s not about just anyone, he’s not just another boy who will die, it’s Peeta Mellark! I could sell my soul for never hearing that name come out of Effie Trinket’s mouth, you know Peeta, you know it’s everything to me” Your body trembled with every word you gave, you felt dizzy, you wanted break everything, Haymitch nodded to your words and you broke into tears again, suddenly everything went black.

You woke up looking at the ceiling of the train room, you were still dizzy, possibly you had fainted from stress, you were still somewhat bewildered until you heard a familiar voice from the dining room car, you got up so fast that you fell to your knees again, your body was weakened, you were going to cry again until you saw him almost run to your room, his hair was disheveled now and his eyes lacked shine, you gave him a look and you just exploded in tears again, you couldn’t believe that he was on that fucking train, that he was now involved in this.

“I’m so sorry, Peeta, I’m so sorry, it shouldn’t have been you, this is possibly my fault, they must have discovered it somehow” The words came out choppy and weak, they denoted your suffering. Peeta knelt with you as he took your hands, you saw how his tears fell, it broke your heart to know that he was holding back.

“Hey, it’s just the odds wasn’t on my favor this time, it’s not your fault, I’ll get out of this anyway and we’ll get married, did you hear me?” Your heart beat for the blond’s words, you hugged him tightly and your lips looked for his with desperation, you wanted to feel him close to you, you didn’t want him to leave, you were afraid.

The plan was this, Peeta would be madly in love with Katniss Everdeen, the girl who had volunteered, she wasn’t exactly a very nice girl and you knew that she was likely to hate you, she knew that you were going to prioritize Peeta’s success over anything and you didn’t blame her for hating you for that but you didn’t care either, at this moment you wanted her dead no matter how sad as that was.

Peeta confessing his love for Katniss in the interview, somehow you felt jealousy in your stomach even if everything was a lie, you wanted all this to end soon, you wanted to go home with Peeta, with the interviews you knew that they were at the gates of the arena, since the day of the reapin you had not eaten or slept well, the only thing you had eaten in those days had been by Peeta’s plea, now you understood his pain the day you had to enter that damn arena and for the same reason, you knew the terrors involved putting a foot in that arena, there was no turning back, Peeta had to live.

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💭pt2 here!!!

#peeta mellark fluff #peeta mellark x reader #tbosas #the hunger games #peeta mellark #katniss everdeen #Spotify

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pleaseleavemetowrite · 11 months

Text

Should have built a home | Cato x tribute!reader (pt1?)

I am working on my finnick fic - but it’s a massive slow burn so have this bc i’m going through a phase rn.

also love clove but for my own convenience, she isn’t here - we’ll jus say she didn’t get reaped

requested? yes/no

requests are open!

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(Y/n)’s eyes swept over the other people in the crowd, eyes cold and detached as looked at the faces around her. However, for a brief moment, her gaze softened. Hard features relaxing slightly when she locked eyes with Cato. His familiar face bringing a semblance of comfort to her, and easing the unfamiliar dread she felt in her chest. With the lingering thoughts about how this is the last time either of them could be reaped, and how she longed for Cato to not do something stupid.

But the moment died as soon as it happened, with both of them averting their eyes. In their district, the reaping was a chance at glory and pride, and definitively not the time to show weakness. Most children were born for this moment, wether they loved or loathed it.

(Y/n) and Cato being a part of this majority. With the former not having much keeping her attached to any sentiments to her district and the people within it. She had a decent family, but they weren’t close. A mother too focused on material aspects and a father who was simply distant, and no siblings. Cato however, had more motivation to keep his district pride, with an undeniable thirst for success. This was one of the only parts of Cato that (Y/n) didn’t understand. With him having parents that loved him dearly and an older brother.

(Y/n)’s thoughts however were cut short when the reaping actually began. Her face fell stoic and apathetic as she regarded the Capitol representative on the stage.

“We’ll start with the ladies, shall we?” The crowd made no effort to respond, and the representative didn’t seem to expect one either. Their expensive shoes clicked on the floor as they sauntered to the glass ball. With some young women looking gaunt with fear while most seemed to almost shake with excitement.

“(Y/n) (L/n)” The voice was clear and loud. (Y/n) exhaled through her nose as she calmly walked over to the stage, movements sure and clear. As she faced the crowd before her, she saw envy on some faces, pride on others. But (Y/n) didn’t feel particularly lucky, despite being a part of academy to train for the games, she had no care for it. She didn’t wish for glory, or acclaim. Nor did she really want to kill to survive.

As the boy’s name was about to be chosen, (Y/n) let her eyes meet Cato’s once more. With his eyes holding a stubborn haze. She knew what he was about to do, and a small part of her wanted to believe it was driven by her own name being reaped and not for victory. Capitol cameras caught the moment between the two, lingering on (Y/n) and the hint of something tender deep in her eyes.

The tributes name was hardly able to be announced before Cato declared himself as a volunteer. With cameras split between the two, having documented the moment prior.

Cato basically strut onto the stage, his cockiness was obvious, and (Y/n) held back an eye roll. Recalling a moment when he claimed he wasn’t dramatic. As Cato stepped to his place, the side of him that (Y/n) couldn’t bring herself to see as fully himself took over. He looked angry, enraged even. He was making his intentions clear to his district, to the game makers and to all of Panem.

The difference between the two was jarring, (Y/n) seemed indifferent, almost like it wasn’t her going to the games. While Cato’s eyes blazed, eagerness present on his face.

As the two were sent to separate rooms to bid their farewells, (Y/n) finally felt the gravity of everything hit her. She was going into a game with one victor and one of her competitors would be the one person she had ever loved. Forcing the tightness of her throat down and stiffening her upper lip, she awaited her parent’s arrival.

#cato x reader #cato hunger games #cato hadley x reader #cato hadley #hunger games x reader

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colddelusionsheep · 6 months

Text

And we are back with the second part! Not going to lie, I started working on a DND campaign right after this. So writing progress is slow. Still writing at ungodly hours of the night tho, and as always, no one under 18.

1st Part

The start

As the other tribute said good by to his family. You could see how they cried for him. How they weeped for the fact that he would not be returning.

The other tribute was a boy that you had seem around the district. Flint Overhill. You never had any interaction with him, but each time you saw him you could tell he didn't like you.

He had dark black hair that was just above his shoulders. His eyes were such a dark blue that they almost looked black in the right light. If you remember correctly, last reaping the girl he was sweet on got picked.

She was a nice girl, quiet and kept to herself. She died as soon as the games started, didn't even stand a chance. Just like you.

The peacekeepers led his family out, and you could hear them weeping even after the door was closed and locked. Flint finally looked at you. The disgust in his eyes was plain to see.

"Looks like your luck has finally ran out. How does it feel to get what you deserve?" His words hit deep. They hit a place you thought had long sense gone cold.

"It wasn't my fault you know. My name was in there same as hers."

"Don't you dare speak of her." You could tell he was holding back. "With how many times you have put your name in, it should of been you."

"I-" before you could even respond. A patronizing voice spoke up.

"Oh my tributes, I certainly do have my hands full, don't I? Let's try not to kill each other just yet. You want to save that for the games!" Nodding his head, you could see all the pins that were in place to hold his wig on. "It makes a great show, oh yes indeed, but what's the point in a show with no cameras."

Both you and Flint were speechless. The complete disregard he had was unlike anything either of you had seen.

"Now, my name is Marius. I will be taking care of you two for the next couple of days. I hope I don't have trouble in the future with you two." As he spoke, he gave you and Flint a small wink. Then he started to usher the two of you into the train.

Before you know it, it felt like you stepped into a whole new world. Finery unlike anything you could've ever thought of existed was right here in front of your eyes.

"For the few days you are with us, you two shall be treated like royalty. Only the finest of things shall be able to touch my tributes' skin." As he went on, you mind stated to wonder along with your eyes.

You could see Flint role his eyes at Marius. Finding whatever you had just tuned out to be incredibly boring. You ran your hands along the wooded walls. It's smoothness brought back a far away memory to you.

It was blurry, but you could see the fine wood above you. Along with a man's voice....a voice that sounded so familiar. Before you could get lost into it more.

You felt a pinch on your arm. Snapping your head up. You could see the unapproving face of Marius. "Now, we will have to work on those manners. They are absolutely deplorable. No matter, we shall tackle that problem in the morning. You two get some rest. You will meet your mentor in the morning as well. So those manners better be improved."

At the last sentence, he gave you an especially harsh glare.

Flint brushed past you, giving your shoulder a mean jab as he did it.

You silently followed where they were showing you two your rooms. Stepping into your quarters. You were in awe of the luxury that was in it. Sitting on the bed felt like you would sleeping in the arms of an angel. Even the smell was wonderous. It was a mix of vanilla and rose.

But, before you could fully enjoy all the things around you. You suddenly remembered at what cost this is all for. Tears start to fall down in violent choked sobs.

You didn't want them to know, you didn't want them to know just how hopeless you are. How you were doomed to die in that arena just like they all wanted.

Yet, as you sat the crying your soul out. You were unaware of the camera watching your every move.

===============================

"I want those mutts done by tomorrow."

"Yes, Sir."

As her lower confirmed. She went back watching the live feed. She has to give you credit, you were a pretty cryer. At least in her eyes.

This year was going to be a fun one.

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There we go! I hope y'all like it. Also, small little note, I do not do taglists. They can get pretty chaotic and I write on my phone so they can get really annoying to do.

#yandere writing #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere idea #yandere story #yandere hunger games #yanderes #yandere harem #yandere headcannons #yandere concept #yandere male #yandere platonic

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7s3ven · 1 year

Text

jealous girl. cato hadley

( master list )

Cato Hadley x Female! District Two! Reader

This one shot is for a book I’m writing but enjoy this. Link: https://www.wattpad.com/story/336569852?utm_source=ios&utm_medium=link&utm_content=share_writing&wp_page=create&wp_uname=riddlesbleachdrinker&wp_originator=lNYFXKoKSwZS%2FwkVU%2FVInkUksEX5fvHuroL2fOpLQzYw324EJ7uS7vH9NrK7EKz%2FtWuSTO96oj3SPi%2F%2F4Z9sCfk8um5LCzNHP2dloSxR2TYkqun4bDC2EUvFGW59AGeP (JEEZ THATS A BIG LINK, WTF)

“Cause I’m a jealous, jealous, jealous girl. If I can't have you, baby. If I can't have you, baby.”

“Let the 74th Hunger Games commence. May the odds be ever in your favor.”

The moment the countdown reached zero, Y/N jumped off her pedestal. She was racing towards the supplies before the other tributes even had time to process what was happening.

The H/C-haired girl grabbed the first weapon she saw, which was a sword. Cato wouldn’t be happy about that. Y/N slashed at the other tributes, not caring who she hit as long as blood splattered across the fresh grass.

“You took my sword.” Cato muttered as he stabbed a young boy with a curved knife. Y/N only hummed and shrugged.

“The District Twelve girl is getting away!” Glimmer shouted over the screams of terror coming from the tributes.

“I got her!” Y/N replied, throwing the sword at Cato’s feet and picking up an axe as she sprinted after Katniss. “Well, if it isn’t the girl on fire.” Y/N sneered as she grabbed the raventte’s braid, pulling her back. “You escaped from Glimmer’s arrows but you can’t escape me.” Y/N choked Katniss with the handle of her axe, listening to the way she gagged. Katniss scratched at Y/N’s arms, picking off bits of flesh until she realized that would do no good.

With a choked gasp, Katniss harshly head butted Y/N. The H/C-haired girl yelled out in pain as thick, red liquid dripped down her face.

“My nose! You little shit! You hurt my face! You’ve ruined it!” Y/N punched Katniss, screaming over and over again. She was like a vicious beast sinking its teeth into its prey.

Y/N slashed Katniss’ shoulder with her weapon, knocking her to the ground. The H/C-nette attempted to stab Katniss’ throat but she rolled to the side, getting a mouthful of dirt in return. Katniss kicked Y/N’s ankles, causing the latter to topple over.

Suddenly, Katniss was on top of her with a dagger pressing into Y/N’s throat, drawing a thin line of blood. Cato was quick to react. He grabbed Katniss’ shirt, heaving the black-haired girl off Y/N.

Katniss quickly scrambled up, sprinting away. Cato was too focused on Y/N to care.

“I thought you had it under control.” Cato grumbled as the pair walked back towards Glimmer and Marvel. The bloodbath was over, allowing the tributes to rest before the Careers picked them off one by one.

“I did until she tried to slit my damn throat.” Y/N lifted a hand to feel the small, slightly wincing.

“How much supplies did we get?” Cato questioned. There was a large array of bags on the bloody grass, and one of them was bound to contain medical supplies.

“We only got a few bags of food. Marvel and I can go find some more.” Glimmer offered. By ‘finding some more’ she meant stealing from other tributes.

“We’ll guard the supplies then.” Cato uttered, “Don’t take too long.” The blond began to rummage through the bags, searching for anything he could use on Y/N’s injuries and her bloody nose.

“This isn’t needed, you know. My throat will be fine.” Y/N mumbled as Cato forced her to tilt her head back as he cleaned her wound.

“Say that when it gets infected.” Cato fired back. Y/N lightly scoffed, the corners of her lips twitching into a small smile.

“Are you seeing this, Cladius?” Caesar grinned at his broadcasting partner. “It seems the District Two tributes have finally began showing affection to each other, starting with Cato saving Y/N.”

“Yes, yes. We all saw the lingering stares between the two during the tribute parade. However, we have two couples in the games now: Peeta and Katniss from District Twelve, and Cato and Y/N from District Two. How will that turn out?”

“We’ll just have to wait and see.”

__ Y/N bit into a piece of bread, finally silencing her rumbling stomach. Cato was quick to snatch the food out of her hand, shoving it into her mouth.

“Dude, seriously?” Y/N scowled, slapping his shoulder. Cato only laughed. “I was still eating that, you nitwit.”

Night was beginning to fall, which only meant one thing for the Careers: hunting time. Peeta was with them too. Only so they could find Katniss, though.

“Fire alert.” Y/N muttered, pointing over at a dim light slightly concealed by the forest. Truly a stupid move.

“Come on, let’s go.” Cato said.

With their backpacks fully stuffed and weapons in hand, the Careers went bounding into the forest in search of new targets. They followed the fire and found a girl warming her hands by it. She looked up, noticing the sadistic smirks on the Careers’ faces.

There was a loud scream and then a canon, signifying her death.

“Did you hear her shouting? Oh, please don’t kill me!” Glimmer loudly laughed as she imitated the girl’s plead. Cato chuckled, nudging her.

“Hey, that was a good impression.” He said, grinning from ear to ear.

Y/N, who was at the front of the pack, turned around. She saw Cato and Glimmer lagging behind, stuck in their own world. Y/N heaved a frustrated sigh.

She felt like her gut was being twisted. She clenched her jaw, trying to ignore the feeling. As Glimmer giggled again, Y/N’s grip on her axe tightened.

“Tribute, two o’clock!” Marvel announced, pointing at a boy who was sprinting through the greenery. He was making an awful lot of noise, which was the thing that led the Careers to him in the first place.

“I call dibs!” Y/N exclaimed, running after him. She threw her axe, hitting him square in the chest. It wasn’t long before another canon went off. Y/N ransacked his bag, grabbing everything she could and shoving them into her pockets and bag.

“Let’s set up camp.” Marvel uttered. It would do them no good if they were too tired to kill tomorrow. Cato, Marvel, and Glimmer lay on the ground while Y/N skilfully climbed up a tree. She liked climbing things. And turns out, it was a skill many Careers lacked.

Y/N swung her legs back and forth as she stared up at the artificial sky. She glanced down, staring as Glimmer cuddled into Cato’s side. He allowed her.

Y/N felt another strong pang in her chest as she absentmindedly played with a knife she found in her bag. She couldn’t sleep. The adrenaline and envy was keeping her awake.

“Are you ever going to come down?” Cato questioned. He slipped out of Glimmer’s arms and walked to stand underneath Y/N.

“I will.” She muttered, “Soon.” She wanted Cato to stay, but he simply shrugged.

“Alright. Don’t fall out of the tree.” He returned to his former sleeping spot, but kept his distance from Glimmer.

“Night, Y/N.” She heard him say.

“Night, Cato.”

It was another successful day for the Career pack. All of them, save for Peeta, were celebrating their latest kill. They walked out of the thick greenery, almost skipping with joy.

“Hey, look!” Y/N exclaimed, pointing at Katniss. She was wading in the shallow water of a river to relive the burn in her leg. As soon as she saw the Careers, her eyes widened and she bolted.

“Fish out of the pond!” Marvel yelled as they chased after her.

“She’s mine!” Glimmer playfully shouted.

Cato was at the front of the pack, Y/N not too far behind.

“Where you going, baby?!” Cato exclaimed, “There’s nowhere to run!”

Katniss resorted to climbing up a tall tree. She panted as she reached a high branch, looking down at the deadly pack.

“Get her, Cato!” Glimmer encouraged the blond as he began to scale up the trunk, jaw tightly clenched. However, he grabbed onto a frail stick and fell. He landed with a loud thud.

“Fine! I’ll shoot her!” But Glimmer overestimated her aim. She missed Katniss by a long shot. Cato angrily motioned for Glimmer to hand the bow and arrow over, trying for himself. He was just as bad.

“Maybe you should throw the sword.” Katniss sarcastically suggested.

“Or maybe you all should move aside and leave her to the one that can climb.” Y/N piped up, her arms folded over her chest.

The pack stepped aside, allowing Y/N to pass through. She held a dagger in between her teeth as she climbed the tree with surprising speed. Katniss scrambled away as Y/N stepped onto her branch.

“Hello again, girl on fire.”

Katniss pulled out a curved dagger, holding it in front of her. In such close range, her bow and arrows would be futile.

“You’re going to pay for ruining my face.” Y/N launched at Katniss, grabbing her by the shirt and throwing her back. Katniss hit the tree trunk and let out a strained wheeze. The Careers below cheered at Y/N stabbed the ravenette’s shoulder and kicked her burn so hard that Katniss screamed.

Katniss was skilled, but she was no match for Y/N, who was trained for this moment. Katniss heard a faint buzzing above her and she looked up to see some kind of wasp nest.

“Oooh, tracker jackers. If Katniss manages to knock it over, Y/N will be in a very dangerous position.” Claudius uttered to Caesar. The blue-haired man nodded in agreement.

“For those of you who don’t know,” Caesar said, “Tracker jackers are genetically engineered wasps. Their lethal stings can cause powerful hallucinations and, in some serious cases, death.”

Katniss clumsily jumped and sliced the nest off the tree. The tracker jackers emerged, buzzing around the two females. The Careers below were also affected.

Y/N fell out of the tree, screaming as she tried to swipe the wasps away. The pain was blinding her sense of sight as she scrambled to her feet.

“Y/N!” She faintly heard Cato yelling. Once Cato and Marvel realised neither of their District partners were behind them, the blond immediately ran back.

Glimmer and Y/N were both being attacked, trying desperately to run away from the wasps.

If Cato could save both of them, he would’ve. But time was running low and he had to choose. He chose Y/N without hesitation, leaving Glimmer behind to die.

“Shit! Y/N, come on. Wake up. Don’t leave me. Y/N!” Cato lay her on the ground and shook her shoulders, begging her to open her eyes.

“Cato?” She whispered, her cracked and bloody lips slightly parted.

“Yes. Yes. It’s me. It’s Cato.” He grabbed her face so Y/N could clearly see him.

“Why is Clove with you? She’s not meant to be here.” Y/N muttered, furrowing her eyebrows. “Clove, why are you here?”

“Y/N, Clove isn’t here.” Cato said, “But I am. Can you walk?” Y/N tried to stand up but she fell back down. Cato cushioned her fall.

“It hurts.” She whispered, lightly tugging his shirt.

“I know.” Cato gently uttered, stroking her cheeks. “I shouldn’t have let you go up there. I’m so sorry.” For a moment, Cato showed his vulnerability to the multiple cameras surrounding him. “You’re going to be okay, though. Just take it nice and slow.”

With Cato’s help, Y/N was able to stand up. She groaned, leaning against him.

“I’m going to kill her.” She muttered, referring to Katniss. She had gotten away from Y/N two times. It wouldn’t happen a third.

“You’ll get your chance. For now, relax.” Cato kissed the top of Y/N’s head, too distracted by her to notice the sponsor parachute. The small container hit him in the face and he clenched his jaw.

He opened the compartment, briefly reading the small note inside.

Nice romance, kids. Apply this to Y/N’s injuries. - E

Cato screwed open a round container, looking inside in confusion. “It’s, uh, melted oatmeal?”

“It’s ointment, you nitwit!” Y/N snapped, “For the stings!”

“Damn, the stings made her cranky. Here, let me help you.” Cato applied the ointment and Y/N sighed in relief as they finally stopped hurting.

“Thanks, Cato.” Y/N murmured, leaning against him.

“Any time, Y/N.”

#cato hadley #hunger games #clove kentwell #glimmer hunger games #marvel hunger games #hunger games x reader #x reader #reader insert #catching fire #mocking jay

412 notes · View notes

especiallythewomenandthechildren · 4 months

Text

As If Destiny (part eight) 🌹

Part Seven 🌹

Warnings: Parent death, sibling death, death and brutality (it is the hunger games after all) characters may be ooc. Reader may not be your fav this part. I read the book a while ago but don't really remember much of Snows way of thinking (I mean I know its toxic and insane but yk the other things) so I will mostly be basing off the film and my own thoughts. Also I can't spell for the life of me so be prepared for bad spelling and grammar. Enjoy loves!

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The air of the station was stale, as if taking the simplest of breaths would cost a significant amount of energy. It felt as though even the bugs buzzing around in the spring weather were flying in slow motion. Maybe it really was the air, or more likely, the atmosphere of your mind.

You felt nauseous and dizzy at the arguments that split your soul. The tributes were to arrive today, naturally, Jessup with them. Were you here to give the best first impression or to size him up? A part of you wanted to save him from the horrors, but the lately very loud voice has been telling you that he deserved it. Especially a boy from District Twelve, around the age of those who murdered your brother in the dense woods of the small district.

Your long time waiting for the train arrival was spent trying to settle that internal struggle to no avail. You were staring straight ahead onto the empty tracks when something felt different. The peacekeepers were still stoic, tracks still echo-filled at even the slightest noise. But a slight breeze was felt behind you. When you turned around, that breeze of fresh air happened to be a certain blonde with irresistible eyes.

He was in the rouge academy uniform, as were you, and he held a pristine white rose in his hand. He had clearly expected the station to be empty, so the sight of your drained eyes made him suck in a breath.You let out a tired laugh at his appearance.

"So are we allowed to be here, or are we both going to receive whatever nightmare Highbottom has set up for us?"

Coryo walked to stand next to you as he retorted back with a sly grin.

"At least we will go through whatever the punishment is together."

"Ah, yes, nothing shakes the trouble duo!"

He took a sideways glance at you as he started chuckling.

"Trouble duo? That's really the best you thought of? I thought you were the poetic one."

He joked at you as you gasped in mock offense.

"I'm sorry, do you have any better names for us?"

Yes. Yes, he did. But none of them had to do with Highbottom or any mocking moniker. His personal favorite was "couple." The others were a bit ambitious and would be used in the far future, such as President and First Lady. Not a bad ring to it. But he wouldn't voice out his desires, even if he was on his death bed. Especially after what happened in that hallway yesterday.

However, you were too busy observing for the upcoming train to notice Coriolanus's gaze. When you turned around, he didn't shift away his gaze.

But you didn't question it. Maybe because it has become familiar and a comfort these past weeks. You had ammunition of reasons such as his hyperobservation to explain these glances. Not a single one of them hit the real reason.

The blonde was fidgeting with the rose slightly, which made a slight laugh creep past your lips. It took him a second to realize the cause, but when he did, he slightly blushed.

"I would have gotten you one too if-uhm, I knew you would be here."

Your lips curved into a shy grin at his flustered words.

"I'm not the one you need to charm, Coryo; you did that a long time ago."

You noticeably were avoiding his eyes, and he let it be because he was quite sure he was turning as red as his uniform.

"Can I ask why you are here, Coryo?"

He seemed a bit taken aback at your sudden question. Of course, he knew the reason he was there: to win the Plinth Prize. To do that, he needed Lucy Gray's trust, and this was just the way to do it. But he feared his reasoning was a bit too harsh. It was the last days of this girl's life, and he was just seeing her as a means to an end. Coriolanus didn't want you to think of him as heartless or worse, that he would be using your trust as a means to an end as well.

So he simply replied that he wished to gain the odd girl's trust, and this seemed like a good way to get a head start. You nodded along, agreeing that she seemed like the character who wouldn't do anything without trust.

Although, your eyes seemed to darken after his reasoning. He couldn't decipher the look completely, but it was clear guilt was a factor.

"Y/N?"

Your faraway eyes and mind locked into his at hearing his soft voice.

"Why are you here?"

You stared at him, slightly getting lost in the ever-shifting color in his eyes. You looked downwards as you breathed out.

"I don't know. I wish I did. Something told me I should come, see him for myself. Maybe it will help clear my thoughts on everything here. And I know a part of me wishes to find something in him to justify his murder."

You bitterly admitted. You were still glanced down when Coriolanus responded.

"This isn't your fault; you know this, right? You didn't choose him, and you didn't make the games."

He let it sink in for a moment, enough for it to visibly break through your guilt-made walls. Coriolanus waited for you to finally regain the will to look up at him.

"And if anyone has reason for the things you are thinking and feeling, it's you. They still want us dead. The Capitol says the war is over when it's far from done. I mean, come on, these kids are the next generation of rebels. It's either them or us."

His tone started out light and soft but quickly turned to stone. You wanted to argue with him, to shout at the top of your lungs that they are innocent and no part of the massacres you suffered. But how could you? How could you fight your exact sentiments?

You knew he was right, no matter how much it hurt your morals. They were old enough to feel fear. Old enough for that fear to become hate. Hate to violence.

And they were old enough to kill. The minimum age for the Reaping was twelve. You and your classmates had the ability to take a life at half that age.

After that, the long-awaited train began pulling into the station. You've only ever seen a train in person once. When you gave miniature hugs to your uncle Averic and freshly fourteen-year-old Octavious.

You were only five at the time, and the upcoming horror of the Dark Days were still a few months away. There were others there saying their goodbyes, but you weren't focusing on them. Or how they began filtering out as the time for departure came closer. You were still clinging onto your older brother's legs as your mother, aunt Fiora, and uncle Averic seemed to be in serious talks.

"Otto?"

The young boy seemed to be trying to listen in to their conversation, and it took a little slap to his leg to get his attention. When his eyes, which were the same shade of yours, landed on your own, they softened from his prior harden state of focus. He knelt down to your height as he turned all his attention on you.

"Why are you leaving?"

The boy had to take a shaky breath. He had slightly hoped you would just accept your mother's reasoning that he "just had to go." But, of course, you, being too attentive and curious for any kid your age, just couldn't let his absence go. In reality, he didn't have to leave. He had forced himself to be involved. It took every stretch of persuasion to convince his uncle to let him come along to what was being described as "a small rebellion."

He wasn't to do anything but take note and follow his uncle's lead. Otto dreamed that within a year, he would be given his own battalion, and the next, be his own commanding general. It was not extremely unusual for a young man of age sixteen or seventeen to be in command. Averic Emberidge was a living example. And like his maternal uncle, Octavious Vaun had great military promise. He had life promise.

He had promise.

And a promise given to his young sister. That he would come back.

Otto achieved his goals of military prowess. But the young man, no matter how skilled or trusted, broke his promise to the person he loved most.

But back then, the promise was fresh and believed to be easy to keep. The platform was empty save for one family by the time your own was forced to part. Your mother and aunt switched between the two members who would be off in District territory. You stood back and watched the goodbyes as a man approached.

He was tall, broad, and commanded the air of the room. As if even the rules of the universe had to bend to his will. He had two children and an older woman trailing behind him. All four had bright and magnetic blue eyes.

The Snows were not easy to miss, not even miles away, as though their powerful aura was felt in all areas of proximity.

He stopped right in front of your mother, who stood in a deep green fashioned vintage day dress. The beautiful woman still looked forward, slightly past her brother's shoulder.

"Cloria. Fiora."

He gave a nod after each name. The former turned to him with those still captivating eyes. The latter rolled her own pair at his presence. He acknowledged your uncle and brother as well, but they would have time for conversation later. They were all to be on campaign together after all.

Crassus and Cloria broke away for a very brief discussion while you still stood a bit away from the group. Your uncle noticed you and your lack of an official goodbye and smiled in invitation. You sprinted into his now-open arms as he spun you around, much to your oblivious enjoyment. When he set you down and grabbed your arms to make you focus on him, his prior smile dissolved into a grave thin line.

"Hey, kid."

Uncle Averic's voice wasn't the joyful one you were used to. You knew then that you needed to listen up and closely.

"I know you are a tough little girl. I saw how you beat up your brother, after all."

You smiled proudly while the aforementioned beaten boy scoffed. He was referring to the past few weeks in which Otto taught you how to fight. It was safe to say he wasn't expecting your level of skill and dedication. The fourteen-year-old just wanted you to have basic defense skills, but your speed of skill accelerated the lessons considerably.

"But y/n, things are going to be a little different now. I need you to watch out for your mom and aunt Fi, okay? I know Rhayen will be there, but you are responsible too. You are smart and strong, kid, just don't be reckless. Your mom doesn't need any more stress."

Your uncle struck his hand out, and you shook it in agreement. It didn't hit your young mind all that you would have to endure to keep this agreement.

Your mother and Crassus seemed to be finishing up talks, so you turned to Otto, who seemed to be holding back tears as the gravity of the situation hit him.

"Hey."

His still-changing voice broke. He scooped you up in his arms as he stared down at you.

"I will write all I can back home, and I'll make special letters just for you, okay? I'll draw out the words for you."

You could read, and at a very accelerated level for a girl your age, but Otto was already missing the days where you would draw out what you were feeling in situations you couldn't speak out loud.

"No! I want words, I can read Otto! I want hard words too!"

He laughed at your little pout of demand. Your determination to push yourself even in that small way was one of the many ways you motivated him throughout the war. Otto knew you were waiting for him, so he rushed to come back. But even his speed could not make him outrun fate.

Your mother had come back and had taken you - begrudgingly - out of her oldest child's arms. You watched them board the train and watched the adults' reactions. Each had a different expression.

The older woman who was with General Snow, who you would eventually call Grandma'am along with her grandchildren, looked proud; she looked overconfident and a bit arrogant. Fiora was on the brink of biting her finger off as she bit nervously at her nails.

And your mother. Her eyes were scanning the train, but they saw two worlds. One where the three men would come back, unscathed and victorious. The other was grim and the unfortunate reality of only the news of their death coming back.

You remember as you scanned the faces, all which were focused on the now-departing train, one was staring back at you. Even all those years ago, Coriolanus was always a face of comfort and reliability. Across the platform, you two bore into the soul of the other, trying to make sense of any of the chaos around them. Your family began walking towards the west exit while his the east.

The distance grew and grew, but so did the intensity of your connected gaze. Neither seemed to want to let go. As if you both knew this would be your last look for three years. The last look as unscathed children.

But those children grew up. And you were back on a train platform with those ever-searching blue eyes. Though, no longer did he search for sense or his father, but now for his ticket out of poverty. A ticket in the form of a fascinating brunette.

He walked towards the now-opening doors of the cattle train. The smell was foul, but you followed him. Some tributes got out, either by their own or forced out. A bat also flew out which you noted. The tributes looked at the Capitol duo with a range from curiosity to murderous intentions. You went down the near entirety of the vehicle the two from District Twelve appeared. Jessup got down first and helped Lucy Gray down by her waist.

You and Coryo sucked in a collective breath. Any last-minute nerves had to silence themselves because it was far too late now to back out.

Jessup immediately noticed you both and sent a glare. He stepped closer to Lucy Gray in protection while she was busy taking in her surroundings. The movement of Jessup and his noticeable stare past her made the girl turn.

She was quite beautiful; the screens didn't do her justice. She had coffee brown eyes, matching colored hair, and clear, tanned skin. But it was her expression that added to her beauty. She was clearly suspicious, to which no one could blame her, but as she raked over both you and Coriolanus's forms, she had a slight grin of curiosity.

It was quite a contrast to her fellow tribute, Jessup. His eyes were sharp, and he was clearly displeased at your presence.

But you cleared your throat anyway, although Coryo beat you to speaking.

"Welcome to the Capitol."

He held out the rose for the girl, who took a long good look at it before taking it.

"We are your mentors. It's nice to meet you both."

You said sweetly and had a small smile to which the girl returned but fell flat on Jessup. You put your hand out to Jessup, but not surprisingly, he left you hanging. You gulped down your embarrassment and bit your lip, signs of uncomfort ot unnoticed by Coryo. Lucy Gray looked you both up and down as she sized you up.

"When I was little, my mama used to bathe me in buttermilk and rose petals."

She took a petal off and stuck it right in her mouth. She gave it a good taste followed by a smile.

"Tastes like bedtime."

You turned to Coriolanus, who was still wide-eyed at his tribute's actions. You didn't know exactly what to expect when you came here, but it surely wasn't this.

"So what do our mentors do?"

It seemed like Lucy Gray was going to do all the talking as her friend stayed stone-faced besides her.

"We do our best to take care of you. Lucy Gray, Coriolanus is your mentor while Jessup, you are stuck with me."

Lucy Gray nodded along and examined her mentor once again. Jessup examined you as well but not in the pondering way his companion was. Rather, he looked like he was thinking venomous thoughts of you and as if your being was yet another punishment he had to endure.

Any further conversation was interrupted by several peacekeepers motioning for the two from twelve to get moving. Lucy Gray looked over her shoulder and wished you both luck on that front while she was being pushed towards a small vehicle along with the rest of the tributes.

Coriolanus already began asking the silent peacekeepers if we can escort them, but none were willing to answer. You followed him aimlessly, ready to start your exit and walk to the Academy. You both still had classes today, even though they were modified to center around your mentorship. But Snow wasn't willing to give up.

When a tall and lanky boy tried to make a run for it and distracted the peacekeepers, a certain look overtook Coriolanus. Everything seemed to be blocked out, just him and the door to the truck. You had a feeling what he was going to do and cursed him once you saw his legs start pumping.

I hate you so much, you idiot Coriolanus Snow.

Your chant of dislike was all you could think of as only a split second after him, you followed him into the abyss of the vehicle that held twenty-three (Wovey yet a year away) teenagers who wanted you both dead. A desire they might just get once the doors shut, trapping you in.

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As soon as Coriolanus landed on the truck, he went directly towards the back. Your legs weren't as tall as his, so it took enough effort from you to get on the truck that you fell onto the floor. That was when Coryo noticed you had joined him. His eyes widened in fright, and he moved to pick you up when another tribute shoved him against the back wall. He let out a painful groan as he tried to charm his way out of the situation.

The tribute holding onto him was even taller and considerably broader than the blonde boy.

"I'll kill you right now."

He snarled at Coriolanus and was backed up by a sick girl.

"He killed a peacekeeper back in eleven."

You learned that the peacekeeper killer was named Reaper, and the ill-looking girl was named Dill.

The threat on Coriolanus's life made you get up in a second and get ready to stop any further action. But as soon as you landed on your feet, your position mimicked Coriolanus's as you were being shoved by Coral, the girl from four. You knew she was Festus's assigned tribute and she seemed like a clear delight with her wicked smile.

"I call dibs on killing her."

Her breath, with the scent of fish still lingering, fanned all over your face. But unlike Coriolanus, your face didn't show any fear or desperation. You held her gaze with a glare of your own. You've fought off a lot more menacing figures than her.

While you had no fear, Coriolanus was taken over with terror.

"Don't you touch her!"

He made a move against Reaper, who shoved him back even harder against the wall. His struggle made the red head girl holding you laugh.

"Aw, how cute. Your boyfriend tryin to help you, princess."

Your hostile glare deepened at that. She had so much confidence in her ability and power over you. And while she was much stronger than you, she was sloppy. She didn't even hold back your hands or disarm your legs. You could easily throw her off if she made a move.

Lucy Gray watched the events unfold and glanced at Jessup who seemed okay with letting their mentors suffer fates similar to their inevitable ones. She didn't like not doing anything to help them. They were supposed to help her and Jessup, right? They would be at a clear disadvantage if something happened to them.

Plus, you and Coriolanus were interesting; nothing like what she imagined Capitol kids to be like.

As the rest of the group agreed on the murder of the academy students, Lucy Gray piped up.

"Y’all got family back home? They’ll kill them if you hurt them. Then you."

She made sure her message was clear. The thought of their families being hurt made them pause, as well as the instant death. In the Hunger Games, they at least had a shot at living. Reaper loosened his grip, and she continued.

"Besides, he’s my mentor. I might need his help."

She nodded her head towards the disgruntled mentor. She didn't mention who you were mentoring because she hoped Jessup would speak up. She knew Jessup didn't necessarily care for you, but he knew you might be some sort of help. The dark-skinned boy didn't get to speak up before Coral, however.

"And you a mender, princess?"

She shoved you again, which made Coriolanus flinch, but Lucy Gray motioned with her eyes for him to stay in place. His involvement would only make things worse.

"Better hope I'm not yours."

She didn't like your answer if her teeth-bearing snarl had anything to say about it. Something about it fueled your fury.

"Do you know why they call it the Hunger Games?"

You beckoned her with a slight smirk that angered the aggressive girl across from you.

"I'll still kill you."

She threatened you as she didn't know where you were going with this. The unknown was a disadvantage to her and fueled her fear.

You asked again, and the sweet-hearted Wovey answered instead.

"Because there is no food."

She answered confidently and in that sweet voice, which felt so wrong in this environment. You didn't want to go ahead with your plan of words, but when Coral turned back from looking at the little girl to you, the fire was back.

You stared straight into the angry eyes of Coral with a menacing smile.

"Oh no, there is plenty of food. I mean, look around. I see twenty-six bodies of food."

You could feel the girl's arms shudder, and you saw the rest of the faces go pale. But you weren't done.

"Hunger stands for the hunger in one's eyes. Once that bell rings, that hunger takes over. Hunger for blood, corpses. For survival and victory. And if you lose focus for just a second-"

You made quick work as you shoved Coral's arms off of you and placed them behind her back. You have now reversed places as she struggled against the wall and beneath your far more forceful and effective hold. Attention was still hooked onto as you finished your lesson.

"You're dead."

Your quick move shocked the entirety of the truck, including Coryo. He knew you could fight back from your younger days by the pestering of Festus, in which you gave him a solid black eye for days. Yet, he didn't know just how good you were, much of it still from your brother's teachings and occasional lessons from Rhayen.

You were ready to let the girl, who still wore her scowl but couldn't hide the fear behind her eyes, go. Although, you bent closely in front of her face to let her know your last message.

"You better thank your lucky stars I'm not in that arena with you. I already won my games."

You hissed out the now positively infuriated teenager. The other tributes ranged from absolute horror of you to confusion on your last statement and how you were so cutthroat. No one expected children of the Capitol to have this in them.

The entirety of the truck's eyes were on you, except Lucy Gray. She looked to Coriolanus to examine his expression. She wanted to know if this was all a front or your sweet nature on the station was. The best way would be to see what the boy, who clearly knew you, thought of the situation. His face was not expressing fear or confusion like the others, but rather a sad look of understanding.

All of the Capitol struggled most definitely during the Dark Days and still with its legacy and effect. But you were one of the few to suffer nearly all the horrors it brought during the war and the only one who still lost after it. The rest of your classmates seemed to move past the traumas, but not you. Maybe it was because of your mother, but it always seemed to play out on repeat behind your still-shining eyes.

Lucy Gray's eyes bounced from Coriolanus's face to yours again. She seemed satisfied and understood. You weren't bluffing. Though, as she looked again at you, she saw your eyes soften. You realized all you had done and said. You had felt threatened, and it had just become instinct to take control of a threatening situation. It hit you that you just became Coral. It was clear she was scared of being here, and her menacing demeanor was a defensive mechanism. And your haunting words were yours.

Lucy Gray took note. Maybe she and Jessup could trust you. But all of a sudden, the truck began shaking harshly and began tipping as the doors opened into the bright light. It shocked you, and due to being closer to the door, you were one of the few to fall. You fell silently but locked eyes with Coriolanus as you did, which was enough for him to let go as well. He was already slipping anyway as Lucy Gray hung onto him, and the truck began tipping.

The mentor was able to land without a scratch and checked on Lucy Gray, who was the same. She looked to her friend, who dusted himself off from where he landed a few meters away from her. Coriolanus watched her make it to Jessup when he began frantically looking for you.

You were more in the middle of the area, which he soon realized was the Capitol zoo. He scoffed at the insult to the districts as he rushed to your side. However, you weren't as lucky as those in the back. You had landed face first into some rocks, which busted a nasty cut above your eye. You had swatted away Coryo's helping hands and slipped off your academy blazer to dab at the blood.

"Huh, look at this. Capitol bleeds."

Your head snapped up to meet the mocking Coral. Coryo looked as if he was going to pounce on her, but you pulled his arm back. He helped you up as you looked past his shoulder.

"What in the world is the weather guy doing here?"

The quite loud presentation voice of the notorious Lucky Flickerman was heard as he tried to get your and Coriolanus's attention.

Lucy Gray and Jessup had moved towards you two while Coral walked off. When Coriolanus heard that he was live for all of the Capitol, he began to panic. His breath became rapid and shallow. You were quick to grab his cheeks to make him look down to you.

"Coryo. Look at me. It's nothing you haven't done before. I'm here with you, okay?"

You waited for his nod to smile back at him, which calmed his nerves considerably. Your tributes watched on, slightly amused. Lucy Gray felt charmed by your clear looks of affection, although it hurt her due to her own recent love troubles. Jessup felt amused that the girl who was just threatening Coral was so taken by a skinny, lanky, and pale boy such as Coriolanus.

You both turned to the other half of your makeshift group.

"Lucy Gray Baird, Jessup Diggs, let us introduce you to our neighbors."

You beckoned them forward, while you opened your hand for Lucy Gray, who took it with an amused tilt of her head. Jessup and Coriolanus shared a look, in which the latter looked at the former's hand and was swiftly met with a clear "no" at the thought of the two mirroring your actions.

When you reached the edge of the cage, you noticed two small children. Coriolanus moved to the other side of Lucy Gray while Jessup moved to you, still a bit back. However, your attention is quickly taken by the questions of Lucky Flickerman.

"Who are you two? What are you doing in the cage here?"

Coriolanus responds and explains the situation to Lucky while you and Lucy Gray focus on the children in front of you.

They seem very taken by Lucy Gray, and she is quite the charmer. She captures the attention of all around with her honey-like voice and witty answers. Soon enough, Lucky focuses on her, eager to learn all about the strange girl. She explains the Covey and the importance of her beautiful dress.

"This dress was my mama’s so it’s extra special to me."

You glanced at her with a shared sympathy as she informed the ignorant host of her mother's passing. She felt your stare shift and turned to you as you gave her the slightest of nods. You didn't know if she understood its meaning, but her knowing eyes crinkled with a smile that let you know your message was well received.

Lucy Gray had a good feeling she could trust you. Maybe if she somehow won, you two could be good friends. She was a charmer and well-liked in twelve, but she didn't really have friends besides the Covey; who were more family than friends.

"Do you know the wonderful mentors for me and Jessup? Seems we got the cream of the cake 'cause no one else even bothered to show up."

You took a gulp and forced a smile as the camera visibly moved to focus on you.

"Well, we've met Coriolanus Snow, yes?"

Flickerman paused to ensure he got the blonde's name right and was met with a nod.

"And who are you, young lady? And did you get that nasty cut from the other tributes when you jumped in the cage? Were you told to jump in?"

His questions flew a million miles a minute, but you responded with grace.

"Hello there. My name is Y/N Vaun and oh no, I fear I am quite clumsy."

You covered up the fact that you might have had your neck slit if not for Lucy Gray.

"And the game makers didn't tell us that we couldn't. They just said that it was a mentor’s job to introduce our tributes to the citizens of Panem. And we thought, well, if they were brave enough to be here, then why shouldn’t we be, too?"

You looked up to Coriolanus to assure your answer was sufficient enough, to which he agreed. Lucy Gray did have one adjustment though.

"For the record, I didn’t have a choice."

Which you couldn't help but tilt your head to the side in agreement to her statement while Flickerman opened up again.

"For the record, I think you both are about to be whisked away."

Suddenly, two strong peacekeepers began dragging you away with Coriolanus. You fought them off to freely walk on your own as you noticed Lucy Gray stop him and whisper urgently, to which he agreed.

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The walk to the academy wasn't too far, but your pace was set quite fast. You and Coryo were already going to attract a lot of attention; missing class for an assumed press event with the tributes was a big no. Your dash to the prestigious institution was a silent conversation between you and Coryo. There didn't feel like much to say as you both were too far in your heads.

Coriolanus turned to you slightly as the question that's been burning in his mind came out.

"Why did you jump in the truck with me?"

You didn't even hesitate as you answered him, still looking forward.

"Are you seriously asking me that, Coryo?"

When you were met with nothing but silence, you turned to him.

"You jump, I jump. You throw yourself in a cage filled with people who want to gut you? Expect to have a friend with you. Maybe it will make you think before you do something stupid next time."

Your answer and vow of companionship caused a satisfied smile to overtake the handsome boy's features. It stayed there for some time before your now dark voice piped up.

"Do you remember the station?"

Your sudden question broke the prior silence. The fair-skinned teen looked at you in question.

"The station we were just at?"

He felt as if he missed something. The thought of being out of the loop unnerved him. You motioned that the recent setting wasn't the point of your question as you elaborated.

"No, I meant right back when the rebellion started. That day when they shipped off."

The heir of Snow's face scrunched up as he thought of the memory; one of his first clear ones. Young Coryo was so confused with all happening around him. Crassus rarely acknowledged the five-year-old's confusion while grandma'am kept on repeating curses about the rebelling districts. Though, as always, Tigris tried to calm down and help her little cousin. She wasn't that much older but she was old enough to understand; her uncle, the sole provider of their family, was to be off across the country. It worried her beyond what her youthful face would show. A face constantly lit up with the warm smiles her young cousin elicited.

But there were moments, although few, where Tigris's attention was elsewhere besides Coryo. One of them being on that now demolished train station, where she watched Crassus Snow depart from the Capital and eventually, their lives. It was in that moment where Coriolanus didn't look to his cousin for comfort but rather the girl with curious and wandering eyes. He had seen you before, but that was the day you truly entered his life. The young man laughed sweetly at the memory.

"You refused to look away even as we were being pulled away."

"Hey, you didn't look away either!"

You retorted back to the reminiscing adolescent. His eyes were still glued forward as you neared your destination. Out of his peripheral vision, however, he noticed a solemn demeanor took you over.

"Funny how different my only two train experiences are."

You laughed without humor, a grim noise.

"The first time, I had the privilege of ignorance. Hands were clean. And the people. Nearly every person I loved in one place. Fast forward today. I'm all too aware of the blood dripping from my hands, and I keep on making it gush."

You paused to take a bitter breath while refocusing your eyes straight ahead. You both were nearly to the entrance of the academy campus.

"Not a single one of them made it out alive. The only one was you."

The boy in mention furrowed his brows at your statement. It didn't strike him until now that you were right. Every member of your family on the platform that fateful day is six feet under. And by the way you spoke, so was little five-year-old you. The thought of your absent family made him reflect. His life wasn't easy in the slightest, but he did have his loved ones, no matter how little the number was. Sure, his grandma'am was a bit eccentric and not whole in the head, but she was a reminder of the glory indebted to the Snows. She was, most of the time, a sweet grandmother and a constant pillar of support.

And of course, Tigris. His life was mostly filled with darkness, metaphorically and literally with the high cost of electricity. But Tigris was always a light shining bright. Guiding him when he was lost in the slightest bit. He left that station with nearly the same family he has today, excluding his cold father. And even though his absence was a painful reminder of their living situation, Tigris often reminded Coryo that was given a chance to be a better person without his father's controlling and cold nature. A chance she tried to make possible at every possible moment.

But you didn't have a single member of your beloved family anymore. It was true your father was alive, but Coriolanus knows he has all but officially stepped out of your life. A move that made the young man resent and hold a place of disrespect in regards to your father. Your feet had carried you through the vast academy doors and down the hallways leading to the class you should have been in half an hour ago.

It was when you were mere feet from the door when a realization hit him. You said everyone you loved was on that platform and he was the only one to live. wait. did you just- does that mean-

"Your little excursion was in violation of about five different Academy rules, Mr. Snow and Miss Vaun. Chief amongst them, endangering a Capitol student."

You had entered the domed classroom, and Coriolanus couldn't further question your prior statements. You had ascended up the stairs with Coryo following close behind. You turned to question Dean Highbottom, who didn't even look up at your presence.

"Neither of us forced the other to go. We went on our own accord."

You responded back to the dean still focused on his papers.

"I don't care how or why it happened. You both put yourselves in danger regardless. I’m moving for the Gamemakers to disqualify you as mentors immediately."

You scoffed at his actions in disgust. He really jumped at any chance to make Coriolanus suffer. Highbottom has now become a plague you now have to deal with as well. Young Snow didn't appreciate his operation against him and you as he questioned his validity.

"You said we had to get our tributes to perform, not that we had to stay away."

"I’ll add insubordination as well."

Coriolanus opened his mouth to retort back when he was cut off by a chilling voice.

"Snow and Vaun fell down in the cage."

The ever-infamous Volumina Gaul appeared with a devilish smile playing on her bright red lips. She crept closer as she continued.

"Snow fell down in the cage but it landed…"

Her riddle was quickly figured out by the pair who answered at the same time.

"On stage."

The quick and correct reply made her wicked smile grow impossibly more.

"You’re good at Games. Maybe one day, you two will be Gamemakers like me. You are quite the pair."

The decrepit Casca Highbottom turned to watch the interaction and grumbled at the head Gamemaker's implication.

"If the Games continue at all."

"Oh, they’ll continue. With performances like young Mr. Snow and Miss Vaun's in that zoo."

The eccentric woman made her way to the end of your row as she questioned.

"Which one of you had the idea to jump in the cage with the tributes?"

You and Coriolanus knew neither of you had an idea that you would end up there. That doesn't mean the brave (and stupid) idea to jump in the truck came from nowhere.

"Coriolanus was the one."

You were quick to respond that the boy couldn't cut you off to mention your own involvement. That doesn't mean he didn't have his own speed in answering.

"Y/N was the one who fended them off, though. She also was the one who thought of presenting Lucy Gray after gaining her trust."

To say Dr. Gaul’s already peaked interest didn't skyrocket would be an understatement. She remembered her surprise, an emotion that appears very little in the woman's life, at seeing the two academy students in the zoo. Their elegance and charisma in their performance were extraordinary. And to see how fast they are to jump to the other's defense and bolster made the peculiar woman ache for more. She may have found not only one but two promising students.

"Holding her hand, Y/N? Introducing her to people? You make it look as if we’re one and the same as those animals."

The disgust was clear in Clemensia's voice as she spoke. She was willing to give you the benefit of the doubt when it came to Sejanus, who lived most of his life in the Capital after all. But straight district? That was a whole different level of abhorrence.

Said district - not district boy had his own opinions to voice.

"Coriolanus and Y/N didn’t show those people anything they didn’t already know. That the tributes are human beings. Just like us."

He paused to let the idea sink in for the snobby children of the Capital. You and Coriolanus were not surprised at his little outburst, but that doesn't mean you were happy with it. You were very far from it. Sick and tired of constantly hearing the saintly nature of those in the districts. But the curly-haired boy continued.

"That’s why nobody wants to watch the Games. It’s because people know deep down that winning a war 10 years ago doesn’t justify starving people’s children, taking away their freedoms, their rights."

You stayed silent as your nostrils flared, and your teeth ground against each other. You weren't sure where all this anger came from, but you assumed part of it was all your memories of the war becoming so clear lately. The constant yapping of Sejanus that they are oh so innocent while you remember otherwise did not help the blood boiling. Your symptoms of rage did not go unnoticed by Dr. Gaul.

"And what do you think, Miss Vaun? Are the inhabitants of the districts human or animal?"

The entirety of the class focused on you as you took a second to compose yourself. You took a deep breath, and instead of looking at the woman who proposed the question, you locked eyes with Dean Highbottom.

"They are obviously humans."

The man's eyes seemed to have an odd look of relief at your response, but you weren't finished. Your eyes didn't blink nor flinch as you bore into the older man's eyes. "

Animals are incapable of reaching a man's level of sinister."

The recipient of your gaze flinched at your tone and words. It felt as if you stabbed a blade straight into his already shattered conscience. However, your answer sparked new levels of interest within Dr. Gaul. You seem to be more of a promise than you initially let on. Sejanus was far from impressed by your answer. You never spoke out against the districts before; what caused you to now?

"Some of those kids were two years old when the war ended. The oldest of them were only eight! They didn’t have enough to become sinister."

His tone implied the thought that your description of the districts' "humanity" was ridiculous. The people outside of the Capital were good. Far better than those within it, clearly. But Sejanus's blind opinion of them brought you to new levels of anger. You scoffed out a breath of pure disbelief as you turned to stare straight into the brown eyes of the boy.

"Too young? Eight is quite old enough to do sinister things. Look around, Sejanus. You think any of us, who, by the way, were those eight years old, survived by playing with our dolls?"

You paused, trying to compose yourself, while all pairs of eyes were on you. Well, all except Sejanus. You two have never had a quarrel. If there was anyone who the rest were certain would back up Sejanus, it would be you. But here you were, spitting words of venom and unfortunate truth.

"Death doesn't discriminate by age. War doesn't discriminate by age. Each and every one of us here had to become soldiers and survivors by age five." You paused, "Does that sound like humanity? Like the pure good you preach about the districts? They are just like us. Whether or not you want to see it. You claim us evil and we might be. But tell me who do you think caused us to be so harsh? If we were able to kill at six years old, I am quite sure those sixteen-year-olds wouldn't bat an eye. If you don't believe me, let me ask Otto."

The mention of your brother caused the already dead silent classroom to stiffen. Even Highbottom, who disliked yet another reminder of Cloria Vaun (or Emberidge, depends on what memories), had to throw back another shot of morphling. Sejanus was already uncomfortable with your sudden shift in demeanor and your public argument. His discomfort increased when you began using the words "we" and "us," but the mention of Octavius Vaun made him freeze. You rarely mentioned him and if you ever did, you couldn't bring yourself to say his name. You never gave the full details of his death, but you told him enough to know it was a subject never to be brought up. Now that you did, he, along with the rest of your class, knew you weren't going to be able to be controlled.

And you weren't. You didn't let up your hold on attention for a good while as you kept going.

"Hmm? Or how about we ask all of our classmates that should be here? All those people who should be our friends, lovers, siblings? What about those infants who died before they could take a breath because their mothers died of starvation? Let's go ask their corpses, huh! Oh wait, right. Just go around and ask the Capitol population. We didn't have a body clean-up system back in the war. What do you think we did with the bodies?"

The slow realization and remembrance of whispers of the war crept back to Sejanus's mind. Your voice was steady as you continued.

"We had to get whatever nutrition we could, no matter where it came from."

Clemensia had turned deep shades of green at the mention. At the memories.

"Y/N, please stop."

Her wobbly voice and discomfort did the exact opposite of her pleas. You took a look around the classroom to see your peers avoiding eye contact with you and looking one step away from barfing. The sight made you laugh in dark hysteria as you now addressed the room.

"Really?! That's all it took? Ten years? Ten years and you forgot everything! Now that you don't have to throw the last words of your loved ones in a fire to keep warm! These pristine uniforms and marble classrooms enough?! You forget when you had to survive for weeks off of a single rat carcass? When you had to fight deranged old men for a half-empty bag of moldy peaches for your entire family? When your only drink was your own blood? No memories!? No memories of the insanity causing people flinging themselves off of rooftops and others beating the vultures to cut up their corpses!"

Your voice was in a full, rage-fueled yell by the time you finished. You would have continued if a hand on your shoulder didn't signal to stop. You looked up, ready to fight whoever it was, until you realized it was Coryo. You expected him to be embarrassed of you, maybe angry. But he wasn't. His eyes seemed to be glowing with understanding and a shared irritation. After a minute of you calming down, a voice perked all too happily.

"My, my, what a declaration!"

Dr. Gaul was all too eager at your fury. Her blood was on fire with excitement at your sentiments. The question she initially came here to ask you and Coriolanus was finally ready to be asked.

"What are the Hunger Games for?"

The woman looked between you and Coriolanus, eager for an answer to which the latter responded.

"They’re to punish the districts for their uprising, to commemorate the end of the war."

Her smile was gone at the disappointing answer.

“Commemorate the… Dull, dull, dull. Punishment can take myriad forms. Why not drop bombs, cancel food shipments, stage executions? Why Games?"

Her question was not met by either of the two students she wished but rather the clear sympathizer in the form of Sejanus Plinth.

"Shouldn’t we be asking ourselves whether or not they’re right in the first place?"

"You have a problem with my Games?"

Any answer was intercepted by Dean Highbottom who has more than enough of this discussion and development.

"Perhaps the Capitol students are ill-suited to be mentoring tributes. Perhaps the Game’s time has passed."

It was then when you regained your voice.

"It clearly hasn't. The Games, whatever their ultimate purpose, is a reminder. To the districts, most definitely, but also the Capital. It is clear that most here wish to forget and hide away the horrors we've endured. Forget all you wish, but the districts won't. They have to suffer what we did and we have to remember why."

Dr. Gaul was taking in your answer. And it clearly pleased her, whether that be a good or bad thing. That curiosity and thrill continued as Coriolanus added in some suggestions.

"Maybe we should be viewing those tributes as human beings. I mean, you saw those kids in the zoo; they just… they just wanted to get to know Lucy Gray. If we need people to watch, we should be letting them get closer to the tributes before the Games. To make the stakes personal."

As your apparent partner continued, the gears in your mind started turning.

"Who will watch the Games if they care what happens to the tributes?" Arachne questioned. And you were the one to answer.

"Everyone."

When you answered, Coriolanus looked to you with a ghost of a smile on his lips as you understood.

"You wanted them to be spectacles? What's better than letting them share their characters? Their lives, dreams, regrets. Biggest loves and losses. If you want people to watch, they will when they have people to root for and against."

Young Snow was quick to pick up after you.

"And if we bend a few Capitol laws, we could even have them place bets. The winner of the arena may not be the same as the winner of the people."

You jumped back into the conversation with a slightly more chipper tone.

"Give them interviews to learn who they are. Maybe we can even do skill tests. If you use Coriolanus's betting system, it can give even the weakest of tributes more of a chance. People would not only be able to bet on who they like the most but who has more of a chance. Not to mention they would have the power to change those odds."

Dr. Gaul was at all-time levels of elation at the pair. She knows promise when she sees it.

"I’d like you to write up a proposal of these thoughts tonight, Mr. Snow and Miss Vaun. "

You turned to look at said Mr. Snow when a certain raven-haired girl stood up from her seat next to him.

"Wait. You mean you might actually use their ideas?"

Clemensia thought her two high-achieving friends' ideas would just be left floating and not actually implemented in one of the most important events of the country.

"If it’ll help the ratings, why not."

Dr. Gaul’s words made the realization hit you like that cursed cattle train. Your ideas were shared in a slight haze of excitement and lingering fury. If your suggestions really were implemented, you may have just subjected generations of children to death.

Your revelation was clear on your face as Sejanus looked up to who he called his closest friend. He felt slightly betrayed by your outburst, but more so confused. Though, his anger and confusion dissipated a good amount when he saw the horror of realization upon your face.

On the other side of the star pupils, Clemmie slightly shuddered as the outlandish Gamemaker turned her cold gaze upon her. The young woman put on her charming smile as she tried to weasel her way into success.

"Coriolanus and I are class partners, Dr. Gaul. We do all of our assignments together."

You shared eye contact with the girl's partner who seemed to be just as skeptical as you. You turned in Dr. Gaul's direction, which also happened to be Sejanus's. You looked down and saw his face look glossy and hurt. A pain that transferred over to you at the sight. But that would be for a later time. For now, you looked up and informed the Gamemaker that you would be doing your proposals on your own.

The classroom was filled with the manic laughter of the woman. Doubt started filling up your veins at working with the prominent figure. Her bright teeth shone bright as her diabolical smile grew.

"It’ll be an interesting test."

A test of intellect, character, and survival indeed.

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You and Coriolanus sat at a small table on the edge of the cafeteria. You wished to be nowhere near the prying eyes and gossiping mouths of your peers. But apparently, Lucy Gray asked for food, and you couldn't let her or Jessup go hungry. Yet, you were now an active hand in their death.

That ever so active voice in your head kept on screaming against your heart. Your napkin was full of the food that used to reside on your plate, and now you were just waiting for Coryo, who came in a bit later than you. He was fast and smooth in his movements and was barely deterred from his actions when a voice rounded your table.

"You trying to fatten those kids up so you can finally start taking bets? Make sure they look lively enough to make good interviews?"

Sejanus spewed his remarks as he sat down on a chair at the head of the table. You glanced down in shame, but the words didn't bother Coriolanus.

"You think they’ll give those kids a scrap if we don’t give them a reason to do it? How do you think your tribute will have a chance if he can’t eat?"

You looked between the two. Sejanus seemed to concede at that point while Coryo kept on stuffing the napkin. The brown-eyed boy's voice seemed to soften in pain.

"He was my classmate. Back in two."

You sucked in a sharp breath. It was already hard enough for him to be a part of the game, especially being given a tribute from his home district. But his own classmate? If you were Marcus, you wouldn't spare Sejanus a glance or a word. And that was the worst part. Sejanus would try to help in any way he could, but the situation he was in, "the lucky one," wouldn't make it very easy to gain the trust of his former classmate. Coryo stopped his movements to look at the only boy he could call a solid friend.

"It’s not your fault it’s him."

You both knew that it would still sit on his conscience, no matter if he really was to blame or not. His scoff said it all.

"See, I know. I’m so blameless, I’m choking on it. My father bought him for me, you know, at the Reaping, just so he could show me that I could never go back to two."

You couldn't believe it. It was common information to you how much Starbo tried to change his son. That doesn't mean you expected him to go to such lengths.

"Maybe you could use that to your advantage."

Sejanus whipped his head to you as he squinted at you. The girl in front of him wasn't the same angry one in the classroom. No, this was the same one who he called his best friend for years, yet it just confused him even more as to why you would suggest that. You were quick to elaborate when it seemed that neither boy caught on.

"You want the Hunger Games to end, right? You can do something about it. No real change will happen unless it happens in the Capital. You are one of the few who can actually do something and one of the even fewer who wants to."

Sejanus seemed to be contemplating your words when Coriolanus added on.

"The best way to change it is to be subtle. Small little changes and actions cause enough damage over time."

Sejanus looked down at his two friends' laps and looked back up with a smirk starting to form.

"Like napkins of food. Make them strong enough to be remembered. Quite the rebels."

His smirk seemed to be contagious as it spread to Coryo. You had a smile as well that only grew as Coriolanus spoke again.

"Oh yeah. I’m bad news."

His eyes were on you the entire time as a blush crept on you. Your teeth couldn't help but show as the three of you got up and started your walk to the Capital Zoo.

Like your morning walk with Coriolanus, this walk was short but a bit more cheery as your little friend group conversed. You feared Sejanus would hold your prior actions against you, but he understood, as always. Well, that and Coryo's explanation on how you both expanded the odds for the weaker tributes instead of making it worse.

You and Coriolanus were recalling the earlier events of the morning that didn't appear on live television.

"Wait wait, you did what to her?"

You were holding back a laugh as Snow described how you switched up Coral and the overdramatization of it.

"Okay, first of all, I did not knock the life out of her. And she was getting on my nerves. Like if you are gonna threaten someone, at least do it right!"

The two boys shared a look and laughed a bit at you. A laugh that was swiftly met with a glare.

"Wanna see me execute my threat, Plinth?"

He was quickly grabbed by his sleeve by Coryo to ensure his friend's safety. You turned forward with a smug smile at their fear while they walked a good meter away from you. Soon enough, however, your little moment was met a swift end as you reached the zoo.

There were far more visitors than this morning, but many seemed to be a ways away; the tributes being watched from afar. You and Coryo spotted your two tributes on the far left side of the area, laying their backs on a large rock. Marcus was on the other side, so your trio split as Sejanus tried so hard to get him to take the food from his hands. A task that was unsuccessful.

You got closer and saw Lucy Gray smile at Coryo and the food he carried and promised he kept. She noticed the napkin of food in your hands as well, making her smile grow.

The singer walked to the bars while Jessup stood behind, still pensive at your presence.

"Is that for us?"

She took the two napkins out of the Capital students' hands, handing one of them to her friend. He didn't even give the food a glance as he bore into your eyes, displeasure evident.

"I’m not hungry."

You had a polite smile prior, hoping to get off on a better start this time. But his refusal made it slightly deplete. You understood why. You and the rest of the Capital students here, which now included Arachne, must have seemed like a cruel joke life played on him. You were willing to walk away, maybe try to focus on helping Coriolanus with Lucy Gray if Jessup refused you.

But Lucy Gray refused the boy who protected her to go hungry. She pushed the food into his hands like a mother would to her child.

"You think I can’t hear your stomach growling, Jessup Diggs?"

He looked between the food, his friend, and you a good number of times before he surrendered to his growling stomach.

Satisfied, Lucy Gray turned back to Coriolanus and seemed to settle in across from him. You doubted Jessup recreate the friendly posture, but you sat down a bit further down from Coryo. She wasn't much further from Arachne, who seemed to be playing a torturous game with her tribute, Brandy.

Your face contorted in disgust at her actions. The girl was going to already struggle, what is the need to play with her hunger?

"You sure you don't want to play with me first?" You turned your head from the perusing scene to the new voice. In front of you stood Jessup Diggs. He stood there, analyzing you as if you were a puzzle that had no connecting pieces. Your eyes moved down the concrete you sat on as you let out a soft, sad laugh.

"Already bad enough I'm not in there with you. Don't need to rub it in any further."

He squinted his eyes down at you. Every statement that has come out of your mouth has only served to confuse him more. From your very first meeting, the truck, earlier when you were in the cage, and now. Arachne's moves and character were what he expected when he was traveling to the Capital. But you and Coriolanus (and a recent brunette curly-haired boy on the far end of the zoo) were the anomalies. Lucy Gray told him to accept your help as she would her mentors, which was reasonable enough.

But why did it seem like she actually trusted you two? Sure, you jumped in with them, but it seemed for more personal gain than their tribute's benefit.

You looked back up to a questioning Jessup. He didn't understand what you meant that you should be in there with him.

"What's the difference between us? I happened to be born in the right place, I guess."

Your nonchalance intrigued him more than it brought fear. You may be just putting up a facade to make him trust you, but what would be the point? He was gonna die soon enough.

Jessup, much to your surprise, sat across from you as he gobbled down the food. He noticed you looking down and eyed you suspiciously. You just lightly smiled and promised to get him more if he would accept. He turned his head from side to side in thought, which caused the left side of his neck to be exposed. A dark and deep mark appeared against his skin, which caused you to have an instinct to reach out and help.

However, your sudden movement towards his neck caused him to back up rapidly. The action caused Lucy Gray and Coryo to look over in fright. But neither of you looked back as you stared at him apologetically while he eyed you again.

"Sorry, I just noticed and worried me."

You mumbled it quietly, which was oddly enough, reassuring to Jessup. He did see the worry appear in your facial features. The emotion was too deep and genuine to be faked. He slowly got back to his original position.

You kept your hands to your sides as you looked over his wound. Your eyes moved from his neck to his deep brown eyes.

"It looks new. Can I ask what it's from? I may be able to get some medication."

Jessup wondered how much was available to you at just a snap of a finger. Were you the type of person to do that? His assumption of the Capital made him believe so, but your personal actions proved otherwise. Especially your little stunt with Coral.

"Bat bite. Got it when covering for Lucy Gray. Rather me than her."

Your eyes went from warning to a softened glow. He didn't like the feeling of trust building

"I don't want medication though. I want to go out my way."

You couldn't help but smile at his conviction. If he didn't get medication, there was no way he would be able to survive. But that didn't seem to bother him.

"Jessup, if it's from a wild bat, there is a likely chance you can get rabies. Are you sure? It does wild things to those infected."

The effects of it bothered Jessup slightly. He didn't want to die as a deranged man he couldn't recognize, but he didn't want to give the people who took everything from him the satisfaction of his death. He shook his head in assurance, and you were ready to drop it when a thought sprang through your mind.

"I am willing to drop it, but please, be completely sure if this is what you want. Do you have family back home who need you?"

The mention of his family made him clench his teeth, and you were sure you messed up. You were quick to apologize, but that didn't erase the pounding thoughts of the boy's family.

"The only thing they need me for is to clean their gravestones."

Your gaze was sympathetic, but you turned it away. You knew what it felt to be looked at like a kicked puppy after people learned of your mother's passing. You were sure a man like Jessup wouldn't be very fond of pity.

"He looked a lot like you."

Your head went through whiplash due to the speed you turned to the boy. Your eyes were now the analyzing and questioning ones. You motioned for him to continue; to make sense of his statement.

"The boy who killed my family. He couldn't be any older than me, sixteenish. He had your eyes."

Your breath seemed to speed up as it dawned on you what he could be saying. That sweet little Otto was capable of murdering an entire family. Then again, what would he think of your actions in the war? Jessup took in your reaction as he cautiously continued.

"Don't think he don'it before. Kept looking back and forth between my pops and brother. Like he was begging them to change back time."

You were no longer looking at the talking boy, but it was clear you were hanging onto every word. Your eyes fluttered around as you tried to make sense of the new knowledge.

"He had reason if that makes you feel better. They were rebels and took out a good number of Capital forces. Just those two on their own."

He didn't hide his proud smile as he didn't even realize it appeared for a few moments. When he did, he was ready to see you storming off, glare knives into him, or plan ways to make him and his fellow tributes suffer. But you were just looking at him, a sad smile on your lips. You couldn't blame his smile. It was his family succeeding in their beliefs, no matter how it pained you. It wasn't as if you were sentenced to a bloodbath as your final moments.

The lack of aggression you presented allowed for Jessup to precede.

"They stood proudly as they were accused of their crimes. He gave them a chance, but they didn't say a peep. The boy with your eyes was shaky as he raised the gun. My momma couldn't hold back and ran into the gunfire. In just three seconds, my entire family erased. Glad they didn't shoot into the floor."

His face shifted from pride to bitterness to a hollowed smile.

"Always check the floorboards of twelve. Never know what you find."

You wanted to pipe up when you heard the disgruntled grunts of Brandy and the mocking laugh of Arachne. It had paused for the majority of your conversation with Jessup because Arachne was busy being interviewed by Lucky Flickerman. Though now she was back, her little game was resumed.

It burned your blood at seeing her cruel game. No one would ever describe Arachne as nice, but she would never stoop this low. Unless they were the district, apparently. You quickly muttered an apology to Jessup as you got up and walked unamusedly to the red-haired girl. Your hand swiftly snatched the glass bottle before it disappearedinto the bar to tease the starving girl again. Arachne looked up to the intruder, and a deep scowl appeared when she saw your face. Behind you, the sun was bright, as if casting a halo down on you. Oh, how fitting for little miss perfect, the sour girl thought.

You turned to Brandy and gave her a warm smile as you gently laid the bottle down next to her. Her eyes narrowed at your act and were glazed over in dehydration. The girl's hands were lightning as they snatched the drink and gulped it down as fast as was possible.

You left the tribute to her drink as you were met with the nasty stare of Arachne Crane.

"Feel proud of yourself for making her suffer even more? I mean, come on, Arachne!"

You huffed at her, irritated at her childlike behavior. Your back was turned as you began walking back to your own tribute when her voice sneered.

"Wonder what dear old Otto would think of you taking care of the same animals that chopped him up into tiny little—"

At the sound of your brother's name, you had turned back, and as she continued, so did your strides. But it was the sound of glass shattering that made you jump into action.

Physically jump as you pushed Arachne out of the way of the oncoming bottle. Brandy had a clear shot to the front of her mentor's throat but due to your speed and slightly turned position, it didn't hit her target. Instead, the broken bottle jammed itself within the side of your neck as your knees buckled on impact. You felt around the area as hot sticky blood poured all over your fingers.

Your hearing began getting muffled, but the gunshots were piercingly loud, as was the sound of your attacker's body hitting the ground. You saw red around you, unsure if it was one of your fellow students or even more blood.

Black dots began spotting your vision as you fought to keep them open upon the orders of someone. You weren't sure who, but whoever the saving angel was, they were doing everything to keep you conscious. No screams came out of your mouth, but warm salty streams across your cheeks, mixing in with the now pooling blood.

The lack of audible panic made your internal one settle slightly. Your mother surely screamed herself on the path of death as did your aunt Fiora. But then again, maybe your brother died without a squeak.

Your eyelids felt as if they were being welded shut against all your will power. You turned your head to the left, which was the side that hadn't been stabbed. The last thing you witnessed before you lost all reality was a head of pretty white hair with matching gorgeous blue orbs. His mouth kept on moving and forming words, but no sound pierced your ears.

You felt his hands around you, cradling your gushing neck. His hands looked as if permanently stained with red dye as he moved them around frantically. In such movements, his hands happened to fling your now apparent rings in front of your view. The two golden ones on the outside seemed mostly clear if the blood overtook her. That accursed silver of a thousand snowflakes glistened under the sunlight. As much as a ring being drowned in blood could.

Your eyes flickered from the bloody snowflakes up to the eyes of a bloodless Coriolanus Snow. A Coriolanus Snow who begged you to open up your eyes. Who attempted to will it into existence before he was pulled off by peacekeepers. Your body was hastily put on a stretcher and sent straight to the Capital hospital.

Not a single blink occurred from the blue frozen eyes of the Snow heir. How is it that it was only this morning when you were on the other side of the cage? Safer on that side.

Snow was on the verge of a breakdown. One of anger and of fear. He was only mere feet away. Only a few feet away and you still might lose your life because he wasn't careful. A promise was sworn internally within that calculated boy that day.

Never again will you be choking on your blood while he stood aside with nothing happening. You were not going to suffer the same bloody fate as your mother. You would not suffer. He swore the vow repeatedly as he rushed through the streets to meet your unconscious body. The world can take his money, parents, even the Plinth Prize. He would refuse to give it anymore.

He would not give up on you.

He would not give you up.

A/N: so sorry for it being so long! Not very carefully read I'm so sleepy I'm seeing things help. Pls lmk your thoughts. Much love !!

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@notyourwildestdream 🌹@darktrashsoulbear🌹@fantasylovestoryme 🌹@nekee-lilac02 🌹@a-avengerparker 🌹 @queenofshinigamis 🌹@darlingisntit 🌹

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