#Hunger Games Au

[deardarlingthings]

Divine you Know I am here for this-

oh god there's so much to explain but this is for a hunger games au. some seriously toxic billford... lmk if yall wanna know more about it

[gillotto]

BKDK Hunger Games AU

[maidragoste]

Chapter Three: He ruined it

The Hunger Games AU

Katniss!Jacaerys x Peeta!Reader

Chapter One Chapter Two

A/N: I'm happy to bring you a new chapter of this series, sorry for the delay in publishing and I hope you enjoy it. Please let me know your thoughts in the comments or reblogs. Thank you for reading 🥰🥰💖💖

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

The elevator ride takes less than a minute since the training rooms are below the floor of your floor, but Jacaerys could still feel the tension in the air. He doesn't know if it's because you're nervous like him about seeing who they'll have to face in a few days or if, like him, you're upset because Larys told you two to spend all your time in public close to each other. Jace doesn't understand the reason behind his uncle's instructions, first, he made you two hold hands at the parade and now it seemed as if he wanted you to become friends while training. Jace doesn't like this, he doesn't want to get attached to you. That would only make things more difficult in the arena, but when he complained his uncle reminded him that he had already promised that he would do whatever he told him. He had to do it if he wanted to return home to Lucerys and Joffrey.

When they both get out of the elevator they find a giant gym full of weapons and obstacle courses. It's not even ten o'clock, yet you two are the last to arrive. The rest of the tributes are gathered in a tense circle, each one has a piece of cloth attached to their shirt with the number of their respective district. While they give his number, Jacaerys in a quick assessment realizes that you two are the only ones who are dressed alike. Was it another way to appear like a united front to others?

Once you and Jacaerys join the circle the head trainer steps forward and introduces herself as Atala and then begins to explain the training schedule, how each position has an expert in the skill in question, that some positions teach tactics survival and other fighting techniques. She also warns that it is prohibited to perform combat exercises with another tribute and that if someone wants to practice with a partner, there are assistants.

“We don't have to be together all the time if you don't want to,” you whispered to him, once Atala finished reading the list of skills and gave them the freedom to start training.

“But Larys said”

“Larys isn't here,” you interrupted, making him frown. “He's not going to know if we don't follow what he tells us one hundred percent.”

“If you don't want to train with me just say it” he snapped, feeling annoyed although it made no sense because he should be happy that you don't want to train with him either after all Jacaerys wanted to avoid spending as much time with you as possible.

“I'm not the one who complained at breakfast,” you reminded him, making him blush and feel ashamed of himself for his attitude. If he weren't so impulsive he would have at least waited for you to go to your room before complaining to his uncle.

“I'm sorry about that,” he apologized, scratching the back of his neck.

“Okay,” you shrugged, downplaying it, but even so, your district partner still felt like a fool because of his attitude. “Where do you want to start?”

“Let's tie some knots,” Jacaerys responded, thinking that his uncle had said not to attract attention so he was forbidden to take a bow at least until the private session with the gamemakers. Besides, Jace had no desire to be around the professional tributes, who had gone straight to the weapons that looked more deadly and handled them without difficulty, nor the trembling tributes who received their first class of knives or axes.

The stall is empty so the coach seems excited when the two approach. When he realizes that Jacaerys knows something about traps, he teaches them how to make a simple trap that would leave another tribute hanging from a tree by their leg. They practice for an hour until they both master the technique well and then move on to the camouflage station. Jacaerys notices that you seem more excited in this position as you mix mud, clay, and berry juice on your skin. It also seems easy for you to braid costumes out of vines and leaves. The coach for this position is excited about your work.

"I make the cakes" you blurt out of nowhere.

"The cakes?" He had been concentrating on watching Royce Baratheon swing a mace directly into the chest of a mannequin.

"Those from the bakery. I make the decorations"

Jacaerys remembers those cakes, which are on display in the shop window, with flowers and other pretty designs on the icing. Before he went to live with Uncle Larys he was never able to eat one of those but since they lived with him there was always cake for special occasions like birthdays and New Year's. Every time they went to buy the cake Joffrey and Lucerys always argued about which one looked the best before choosing which one to take. If he came home he didn't think he would be able to accompany them back to the bakery. He couldn't see your father and brothers in the face again. Nor could he see the disappointment in his brothers' eyes when they saw that the cakes were no longer as pretty as before.

"They're cute, but you won't be able to glaze someone to death," he hadn't meant to sound so scathing but thinking about your death, your family, and his siblings put him in a bad mood.

"You never know what might be in the arena what if…?"

"Let's continue with another position" he interrupts you, he wasn't in the mood for some joke.

"Okay, go ahead with whatever you want, I'll stay here a little longer. I'll catch up with you later" you responded.

The smile on your face had disappeared and Jacaerys felt a tightness in his stomach but he decided to ignore it, he just nodded and went to the fire-making station. He is so focused on the coach's instructions and getting the technique right that he doesn't even realize that he has spent so much time there until they announce that it is time for lunch. Jacaerys looks at you with the idea of telling you to have lunch together. He frowns when he sees that you are no longer alone but are talking to Jason Mallister, the thirteen-year-old boy from District 4. What were you doing? Larys said not to attract attention and you found yourself talking to one of the professional tributes, of course, that would attract attention.

Annoyed, Jacaerys went to the carts that had been brought with food and began to serve himself and then sat alone at one of the tables. Professional tributes gathered around a table. They were loud, unlike the rest they seemed carefree, as if they were not afraid.

A few minutes later you sit next to him. Jacaerys can't hold his curiosity for long so he asks you.

“Why were you talking to him?”

“Stop frowning, we're supposed to be friends,” you scold him in a whisper and he struggles to put on a friendlier face. “He reminds me of Joffrey,” you admit.

“My brother is nothing like him,” the brunette denies instantly. He wouldn't tell you but when you two saw the District 4 reaping he also thought about his brother when Jason appeared on screen. But he couldn't allow himself to see his brother in one of his opponents, that would only hurt him in the arena, so he instantly forced himself to push that thought away from him. The only thing in common between the two of them was that they are both thirteen years old, he just repeated to himself.

"I just showed Jason how I made my camouflage and I remembered when I tried to teach Joffrey how to frost a cookie." Jace must have made some funny face in his surprise because you were smiling again. "He made a mess, I don't know how he ended up with frosting on his hair and face, the only reason my mother didn't get mad is because Joffrey bought the cookies he ruined. If you ask me, he didn't ruin them, he just took artistic liberties" You said the last thing as if you were telling him a big secret, leaning towards him and putting your hand a few centimeters from your face, hiding it from the other tributes, as if you didn't want to they will try to read your lips. At your antics and the image of his younger brother covered in icing, Jacaerys can't help but laugh.

"I didn't know Joffrey spent so much time at the bakery."

"And with you", he added in his head. He couldn't help but wonder why his brother never told him. Although he shouldn't be surprised because at home there is always some bread or cookie from the bakery, but he always thought that the one who was going to buy it was Uncle Larys. He might have missed some things by spending so much time in the forest and the Hob with Baela.

"Your brother is addicted to sugar so he usually comes often after school to buy something. He says he deserves a treat after spending hours locked up in hell."

Jacaerys notices the affection with which you speak of his brother and he can't help but feel warm. He has the feeling that you have even more stories to tell about his brothers and he wants to hear them all.

"Yeah, that sounds like Joffrey," he agrees with a smile.

During the rest of the days of training, Jacaerys feels a whole mix of emotions fighting within him. You two continue training together in some positions such as setting up shelters, recognizing edible plants, and throwing knives and spears, but at some point, you always end up separated by your decision because you want to train with a partner so you look for one of the assistants. In those moments Jace can't help but distrust you because for a while he sees you fighting with the assistant but then the next time he sees you you are in the same section as the professionals, he never sees you talking to one of them but he still can't avoid feeling restless. On the other hand, he can't continue denying that something is forming between the two of you; it's impossible not to form a kind of friendship after sharing so many anecdotes during lunch. At first, you were the one who did most of the talking, telling him more about Joffrey's visits to the bakery, but then Jace wants to know about you and starts asking you more about you and your brothers. And before he least realizes it, he is also sharing his own stories. He tells you how Uncle Larys once made them believe his house was haunted only to make them stop wandering around at night because they wouldn't let him sleep. You laugh when he tells you how he once challenged a bear to fight in the woods to keep a beehive and how his father had never scolded him so much.

On the second day of training before you go to train with an assistant you whisper to Jacaerys that he has a shadow. When he turns to see Rue, the little girl from District 11 spying on them, you encourage him to talk to her but Jace refuses because he has no idea what to say to her and also because he is afraid of meeting her and she will remind him of his brothers or Baela's little sisters.

When the private sessions arrive with the gamemakers it is evident that both you and Jacaerys are nervous because neither of you tries to have a conversation while waiting your turn or even when the two of you are alone after Rue enters.

"Good luck," Jacaerys wishes you as he stands up when he is called. He couldn't tell you later because once a tribute finishes the session he has to go to his apartment "Try throwing the weights, impress them."

"Thank you" It is evident that you were not expecting his words because you keep looking at him impressed "Lucky for you too. Remember to shoot well" you smile at him.

He nods and starts walking towards the door.

He ruined it. What the hell was he thinking? No, he didn't think about it. He just let his anger get the best of him, he was outraged that the guards had stopped paying attention to him after he missed his first shot, he was furious that he could die within a few days and they wouldn't deign to watch his entire performance, so he took the arrow and shot at the gamemakers' table. Of course, he didn't shoot any of them, his arrow hit right where he wanted it, in the apple that the pig had in its mouth. When all eyes were on him he sarcastically thanked them for their time while bowing. He didn't wait to be fired, he stormed out of the training room still feeling his blood boil. Only when he was alone in the elevator did he feel the weight of what he did, he felt like his heart was about to jump out of his chest and his throat was burning. He ruined it. He hadn't tried to kill any of the gamemakers but maybe someone would think that. He was sure he must be the first tribute to do something like that. He lost any chance he had of winning the games. But what scares him the most is that because of his attitude, they will now punish his brothers. He would never forgive himself if something happened to them because of him.

When the elevator doors opened, tears had already begun to roll down Jacaerys's cheeks. He ignored the questions from Effie, who was waiting for him in the hallway, and locked himself straight into his room. It didn't take long for knocks to sound on his door and the woman's voice asking him to come out but he didn't move from the bed. When silence came he thought that he had finally given up and they would leave him alone. But minutes later he heard the cold voice of his uncle:

"Jacaerys, open the door. Stop acting like a child."

Jacaerys was about to ignore him but then he realized that the only one who could help him protect his brothers was his uncle. So he took courage and got out of his pile of blankets. He unlatched the door and nervously opened the door. For a moment he thought he saw something different in his uncle's eyes. He couldn't figure out exactly what but that only made him more nervous. Without saying anything he went to sit on the edge of the bed while he watched Larys enter and close the door again. Surprising him, did his uncle think that he would try to escape in the middle of the conversation?

Larys took the chair that was at the desk placed it in front of the bed and then sat down.

"I ruined it," said Jacaerys, his voice breaking when he saw that his uncle did not seem willing to start the conversation. "They are going to punish Luke and Joff because of me." The teenager's desperation was clear by how he tugged at his curls as he spoke."You have to do something, uncle, please. It's my fault, let them punish me."

"What did you do?" the victor demanded to know.

Then Jace told him everything, how the gamemakers were drunk and how after he missed his first shot they stopped paying attention to him, missing the circuit he made and how he hit the center in the rest of his shots, that he didn't think about his actions, that he got carried away with anger and shot at the apple that was in the mouth of the pig that the gamemakers were about to eat, gaining their attention again and how he left the training room without waiting to be fired but not before thanking them sarcastically for their attention. As Jacaerys continued speaking Larys's hand turned white from the strength with which he gripped his staff.

"I told you that you won't attract attention" his uncle's biting tone only made Jacaerys' discomfort increase and he couldn't help but take one of the blankets again and wrap himself in it. It's not like he expected Larys to comfort him but he also shouldn't have been surprised that the first thing he did was scold him. "But you can rest assured, they're not going to punish your brothers." There was that strange look in his eyes again.

"Are you sure?" The uncertainty in his voice was clear, he wanted to trust his uncle but at the same time, he couldn't help but think that Larys would tell him any lie as long as he kept concentrating on the games.

"If they are going to punish Lucerys and Joffrey, they would have to tell what you did in the entertainment center so that it has some effect on the districts, but they won't because it's secret," Larys explained with a little more patience. "The only one you hurt with your actions it's you"

Upon hearing that nothing would happen to his brothers, Jacaerys felt that part of his discomfort disappeared. He still had to worry because surely the gamemakers would now make his life miserable in the arena but at least he knew that his brothers would be safe.

"I know, the gamemakers will make my life miserable in the arena" he stated "And today they will give me the worst score so I won't have any sponsors" he sighed thinking that now it would be even more difficult for him to survive in the arena without sponsors, the food wouldn't be a big problem because he knew how to hunt but if he got hurt then he would need medicine.

"Don't worry about the sponsors, I'll take care of that," Larys promises and this time Jacaerys doesn't doubt his uncle because he looks too confident. "Well, it's done, it's not something we can change. Stop getting depressed and let's go have dinner before they give the scores."

During dinner, Jace barely joins the conversation and feels your worried gaze the entire time. It seems that Effy told you about the state he arrived in after his private session.

In the middle of dinner, Effy can't stand his curiosity anymore so he asks them both how it went. Jacaerys wasn't going to say anything until he heard you speak.

"I don't think I impressed them, some paid attention to me but others were more focused on whatever was on the table," you said resignedly.

"It's my fault. I'm sorry" he apologized, feeling guilty because apparently he had also harmed your private session.

"How is it your fault?" Cinna asked curiously.

"I shot them an arrow," Jace replied.

At first, he ignored Effy's indignation and the rest of the team's questions, focusing more on your reaction. You still looked at him with concern. He was relieved to not see you angry. The truth is, he couldn't blame you if you got angry with him after all his act had attracted the attention of the gamemakers when it was essential for you to have a better score.

"I actually shot an arrow at the pig's apple they were about to eat. They were drunk and I got angry because they weren't paying attention to me."

"And what did they tell you?" You asked anxiously and looked at the doors as if you were expecting that at any moment the peace officers would come in to look for him.

"I don't know. I left"

"Did you leave without permission?" Effie asked to see if she understood correctly.

"I gave it to myself" Jace replied and a laugh escaped your mouth, you quickly stifled it with your hand before Effie's gaze. Jacaerys was pleased to see the worry disappear from your face.

"Larys, aren't you going to say anything about it?" Effie questioned evidently expecting the victor to side with her and scold them.

"It's done, Effie. There's nothing we can do," he responded boredly as he buttered a piece of bread.

"What was their face?" you asked, looking at him curiously.

"They seemed terrified. A man stumbled backward and fell into a punch bowl." At the time Jacaerys had been so angry that he couldn't enjoy the watchman making a fool of himself but now he remembered it with fun.

Everyone laughed, except for Effie but she seemed to hold back a smile so Jace didn't take it the wrong way.

“Oh, I would have loved to see that,” you said with a smile. If Jacaerys hadn't been so focused on you then he would have noticed that his uncle seemed to be studying the two of you.

Once everyone finishes dinner they go to sit in the living room to watch the scores announced on television. How every year a photo of the tribute appears while Caesar Flickerman and Claudius Templesmith announce the score. What is striking with the group of professionals is that this year not everyone has a score between eight and ten like previous years, but the boy from District 4 gets a seven. The same score that Rue gets, Jace can't help but wonder how she managed to get that score. But any thoughts of the little girl from District 11 disappear and are replaced by euphoria when he hears Caesar announce his score. An eleven.

Applause and congratulations filled the room. Jacaerys smiles until he realizes that his uncle is quiet and doesn't look as excited as the rest about his eleven. He starts to feel the anxiety in his body and he wants to ask his uncle what the problem is but he doesn't want to have this conversation in front of everyone.

“Good” is the only thing Larys says after they also announce your eight. And Jace feels stupid for worrying so much, surely his uncle didn't say anything before because he was still hanging on to your score after all he wasn't the only tribute Larys had in charge. “You should go to sleep, you have a long day tomorrow” he ordered them while motioning to the avox to bring him more wine.

You and Jacaerys say goodbye to the entire team and head toward the hallway where your rooms are.

“Tell me, what does it feel like to break the bad streak of twelve and go down in history?” you said while leaning on your door.

“You're exaggerating,” Jace said, trying to sound exasperated by rolling his eyes, but there was no annoyance in his tone.

“I'm not,” you shook your head, smiling. You just beat the score of the professionals, I think it's impressive” you said while crossing your arms. “Surely the entire Capitol is talking about you and you are going to monopolize all my sponsors.”

Your last words brought Jace back to his senses. You two were in a competition and his live were at stake. He couldn't keep joking with you. He should be focused on making a good impression on Caesar and the people at the Capitol tomorrow.

“We should go to sleep,” he said abruptly, resting his hand on the handle of his door, trying not to feel guilty as he saw how the spark in your eyes seemed to go out at his tone. “Have a good night,” he didn’t even wait for you to respond before walking into his room and closing the door. His father would be disappointed in his treatment of you.

a/n: I'm grieving because I had to delete the scene I had with Larys and Sea Dragon bc if I left it, then there were going to be things in Cathing Fire that didn't make sense 😫

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter, as I always say the comments and reblogs are very appreciated 🥰

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[omniluci-estumbra]

Dramione Month Day 17: Hunger Games

(Just realized I’ve been forgetting to post my Dramione month drawings over here….whoops)

Based on the Catching Fire promo photos — my AU where they are already victors and are now rival mentors for their respective districts (and they’d never ever fall in love obviously👀)

[kasagia]

Coriolanus Snow's Masterlist

One-shots

Losing your memory 'universum'

The boy you knew—the boy you loved before the 10th Hunger Games began—returns to the Capitol. The Plinth heir. The victor. You don't know the man he has become... or do you? Because, surprisingly, he only seems to be holding on to one thing from his past. You. And as much as you hate him, you can't deny that there's nothing more between you two. Something just doesn't let you forget about yourselves as effortlessly as you would want to.

District boy

You and Coryo were very close (best) friends. Young Snow had a crush on you for a very long time. But he wouldn't let anything distract him—not until he got his family out of their financial troubles. And then comes the 10th Hunger Games, in which you get to be a mentor for a very handsome tribute... Coryo isn't happy about it at all.

A powerful man

You thought he was different. That he would never cheat on you. But apparently Coriolanus who came back from District 12, became Gamemaker, and ran for president was not the same man you knew. And you'll soon find out how wrong you were about him.

Game of survival

The worst enemy is the person who betrayed you when you trusted them with all your heart. The person you told all your secrets to, the person you loved more than your life—the best friend who suddenly turned on you and stabbed you in the back and right through your heart, using your weaknesses they learned with the time they spent with you. You and Coriolanus have been each other's worst enemies since that fateful day at the lake in District 12...

Game of survival, final hunting...

After he catches you, he tries to turn you into a lady who can stand by his side. However, you are not that easy to break... after all, a wild animal in a cage is still a dangerous animal.

Mini-series

[usetheeauthor]

Kinktober Day 14: Punishment

Dark!Yandere!Coriolanus Snow x Fem!District 12!Reader

Warnings: 18+ smut, NON-CON/DUB-CON, false imprisonment, hunt and chase, violent situations (gun use), Stockholm syndrome, dom & sub dynamics, mentions spanking, kissing, gun play, minor blood kink, gaslighting, manipulation, false confession coercion, degradation, humiliation, mentions of boot licking, mentions of force feeding, mentions of asphyxiation, coryo is really bad in this

Summary: You’re Coriolanus’ little prisoner and you’re rather fortunate that he is willing to see the potential good in you.

A/N: Inspired by one of my favorite mangas “Amai Choubatsu”

They call him ‘The Gent’ but he was anything but one. He’s the most tyrannical peacekeeper of all. Sadistic in ways that are almost creative. And for some unfortunate reason, he’ll become obsessed with you.

You regret the day you met him. When his vacant blue eyes immediately darkened the moment they held you in his sight never to stray away from you again. You were only trying to search for your younger sister’s friend, Lucy Gray. You only wished to put her mind at ease, ensuring that her friend was indeed just fine.

But then you stumbled upon the harrowing scene…

There he was. The peacekeeper who seemed to share a close relationship with Lucy Gray. Only there was no Lucy Gray in sight. Just him on high alert; manic, wide, and bloodshot blue eyes and a shotgun in hand. He’s on his knees, roaring out angrily in frustration. Obviously, he doesn’t appear to be in a sane state of mind that you could interact with.

You tried to get out of there as quietly as you could, walking backwards. But the snap of a twig under the weight of your bare feet has him aiming in your direction.

“Wait!” You came out of the shrubbery, hands up in surrender. No longer shielded by the trees, the cold rain begins to trickle down on you as well. “I’m sorry, sir. I was only trying to find my sister’s friend. Please…please don’t hurt me.”

Coriolanus walked over to you, shotgun still raised. He pressed the barrel into your stomach and hot tears began to stream down your cheeks. You trembled violently, anticipating his next move.

“Don’t,” You pleaded. “I swear I didn’t see anything. Please. I’m all my sister has left.”

He shushed you, wrapping his arms around you in a patronizing hug. “Sh-sh-shhh, it’s okay, darlin’. You’re safe now. You may be a criminal but I can fix you.”

“B-but I’m not a criminal.” You whispered, looking up at him fearfully.

“But you are,” He retorted, matter-of-factly. “You’re breaking curfew hours, caught running away, and then I catch you red-handed searching for the murder weapon...”

“What? N-no. No! I was looking for Lucy Gray. I know nothing about that gun.”

“You’ve gotta admit,” He shrugs and gives an evil smile. “It’s a little suspicious that you found the exact location of the murder weapon. And even your DNA’s all over it.”

Coriolanus suddenly lowered the gun, bringing it between your legs to press against your clothed core. He rubbed the length of it along your folds, forcing your panties to swallow the fabric of the thin gusset between your puffy lower lips.

You released a choked sound between a gasp and whine. The way he used you felt so degrading. Humiliating.

“You’re going to pin this one on me?!” You snarled, baring your teeth at him like a mad dog. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I can,” He replied, using his free hand to trace a finger along your plump cheek. “I only want to help you admit the truth, darling.”

“What truth?” You hissed, staring daggers.

“That you’re a criminal, of course. A murderer. A savage. But I’m sympathetic enough to understand that it is at no fault of your own. Much like Lucy Gray, you were raised in the districts where civil behavior is not the norm. You don’t know any better. But I can mold you into a model citizen of Panem. If you simply admit your crimes, I’ll spare you of any cruel and unusual punishment.”

“Fuck you,” You spat, letting out a shaky breath when he presses the barrel further into your sopping core and it makes your knees buckle a little. “You’re the fucking murderer, aren’t you? I’m sure that’s exactly why Lucy Gray isn’t here now. Well, you can kill me because I won’t do your dirty work for you.”

“Kill?” He chuckled darkly. “Who said anything about killing? You can’t die. That’s much too merciful.”

Tossing the gun aside, his hands clasped your wrists and you struggled against him, failing to free yourself.

“Let me go!” You twisted and squirmed but his grip was as constricting as a boa snake.

“It is my civil duty to detain you for the murders of Mayfair Lipp and Billy Taupe.” He spun you around so now your back faces him, bringing your hands behind to tie them up with zip ties.

“You won’t get away with this! They’ll be sending search parties for us and I’ll tell them everything.”

He snorted, pulling the zip tie tight enough to feel as if it’s cutting off blood circulation in your hands. The devilishly handsome young man turned you to face him once more, a smirk on his face. “Oh, them finding us is exactly what I’m counting on. I mean, just who do you think they’ll believe? The head officer or a poor little district whore. Even your own would sell you out in a heartbeat if it means sparing their own lives. It’d be my word against yours.”

“You just have it all figured out, don’t you? Evil just comes naturally to you.”

“It’s no hard feelings, dove. You just found yourself at the wrong place at the wrong time. Don’t you worry your pretty little head, though. I’ll make sure you never see yourself at the end of a rope. Long as you behave like the good girl I know you can be.”

“Go to hell.”

He let out an obnoxious bark of laughter. “You’re not going to make this journey easy for the both of us, I can tell. I do love a challenge.”

Coriolanus picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder and once you made it past the threshold of the abandoned cabin home, you were officially his to toy with.

7 days. You counted. Maybe more. You’re not really sure anymore. You’re beginning to give up keeping track of time. No one’s coming to save you. No one cares. Not except for your sister. You could only hope that at least she’s managing okay without you.

Until then, you could only hold on. Hold on long enough to see her again. Which isn’t at all an easy feat in the punishing torment of “The Gent”.

Any tiny infraction is enough for him to inflict punishment on you.

Like when you chose to ignore him after he returns home from hunting…

“For that you’ll receive the ‘impoliteness punishment’,” Coriolanus says. “Get on all fours and shine my boots clean with your tongue.”

Or when you refused to eat anything he’d cooked.

“I don’t understand! I’ve fed you, clothed you, I’ve made sure you’re healthy and still you refuse to obey me. Your punishment will be to finish every bite of food on your plate and mine or you’ll be hearing the screams of your sister echoing in the skies.”

Even that one time when you wouldn’t unlock the door to your designated room so he tore it down with an ax.

“I was kind enough to give you the privilege to lock your door and this is how you thank me?!” His tall frame while donning the ax is intimidating enough to make you shrink under his shadow. “You’ll be getting the ‘grateful punishment’. List all the things I’ve done for you that you’re appreciative of while my belt’s around your neck. Say anything I don’t particularly like and it’ll wrap tighter around your delicate little throat; each time more secure than the last.”

And today if you’re caught, you aren’t sure what punishment you’ll be facing but it’ll probably be worse than all the others combined. You’ve escaped presumably as Lucy Gray had done. Only you aren’t sure if she’d been successful in her endeavors. The only thought of Coriolanus catching up to you sends shivers down your spine. You’d be finished, no doubt.

You just have to try with all your might to get back home.

You spot a pair of lone peacekeepers sharing a cigarette and having a casual chat. Your mouth falls open but barely a squeak comes out, when you feel his presence just behind you. With a bored expression on his face he presses the sharp end of a knife to your supple throat; no need for him to place a hand over your mouth. One sound and your life is over. He officially called your bluff, you never wanted to die. You’d always had the thought to resist him, to escape and he’d sensed it before you could yourself.

The peacekeepers looked around for a moment, both weird out that they’d heard a faint sound as they exchanged a small dialogue regarding it.

“So I’m not going crazy?” One says.

“Nah, I definitely heard that. Must’ve been an animal for something.” Says the other.

“Let’s get the fuck outta here before it turns into some kind of a horror story.”

And with that they were gone and so went all your hopes of being free from your captor.

He takes your face in his big hands, pressing you against the soft bark of a large tree. “Why’d you run away? I thought we were making progress, little dove,” His voice cracks a little as if he were on the verge of tears. “Maybe.. I should break your fucking legs to keep you from running again, hmm? You think I’m such a monster, maybe I can show you what a monster truly is.”

“Leave me alone!” You scream, kicking him between his legs and he’s down for the count.

You run to the abandoned cabin in search of the shotgun. Once you locate it, you’re only able to load it with one bullet before Coriolanus barges in the room and charges towards you. You aim his way, pulling the trigger but he smacks the gun up and it fires into the ceiling.

He wrestles you to the ground, pinning you down into the bearskin rug and you cry out for help. Coryo’s lips slam onto yours, licking into your gasping mouth. You bite his tongue and he pulls away with a loud growl, using one hand to touch the tip of his tongue to confirm there’s blood while the other continues to pin your wrists.

Instead of stopping, he kisses you again. The copper taste seeps onto your tongue as you continue to squirm. Slowly, you were losing fight as his lips moved passionately against yours, hips undulating sensually so you could feel his hard bulge prodding at your lace-covered entrance.

When he’s sure you won’t scratch his eyes out, he releases your hands and you continue to kiss him and desperately gasp for air; gasp for him. You ball up fistfuls of his uniform, tugging him harder against you and he groans against your lips.

“You need me? You finally get it. Does this mean you’ll be good for me?”

“Yes.” You whisper. What was the point of fighting this anymore? If he really does want the best for you, then maybe you should let him have your fate in his hands.

“You confess your crimes?”

The stubborn part of you wants to spit in his face but there’s that new side of you that wants to do all you can to finally please him. “Yes. I am a criminal. W-will you turn me in?”

“Never. I’ll be tossing the weapons into the lake. That was my plan all along. I just wanted to make sure you know that you’re just as much a part of this as me now. You’ll never leave my side.”

“But the Capitol…will they accept me?” You ask.

“Of course, they would. What do you think all those punishments were for? It is all about discipline and I think you’re finally getting it.”

“So…can I have my reward?” You ask, hand reaching between your bodies to palm him in his slacks.

“Mmm,” He moans before licking your exposed neck. “You won’t get off that easy for running, little dove. You’ll be receiving my favorite punishment of all the love tap punishment. Flip your skirt up, pull those cute undies down your pretty legs, and bend over my lap.”

He raises his ringed-up hand for you to study, before utilizing it to gently squeeze your breast.

When Coriolanus peels himself off your body, he finds a nice comfy chair to sit on that is reminiscent of a king on a throne. He beckons you to him and says, “And Remember, I’m only hurting you because I love you.”

[palalife]

I watched the newest Hunger Game movie and then this happened

[kitdelune]

Here are all my rough designs of everyone’s costume for the Hunger games simulator video!

If you guys want the portrait drawings I did for district 1 and 2, comment for which one you’d like me to do next, I’d love to hear from y’all!

[tfwstherapist]

drawing dickroy but as katniss and peeta from the hunger games.

here’s the chariot scene.

(drawing the berry scene and the cave kiss scene too…)

[justice4milton]

First draft of my fweaking hunger games pride and prejudice au where Katniss is adopted by Effie and Haymitch and also lives in maine and also its the 80s and also also theres angst.

[idksmtms]

The Prettiest Trophy (Capitol Elite!Aegon II Targaryen x Games Winner!reader (Hunger Games AU)

Summary: You never thought you would make it out of the hunger games, but now you have another fight ahead of you. What do you do when one of the most powerful citizens of the capitol has chosen you to be his? 

Word count: 3.5k 

Trigger Warnings: 18+, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, profanity, innuendo, Dub-con due to power imbalance, coercion too ig (???), some angst (reader talks about survivor’s guilt from the games),  p in v s*x, unprotected s*x, oral f receiving, degradation (constantly referring to lesser status of districts), objectification and ownership,  (please let me know if I missed any) 

Rating: 18+, MDNI

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters. I do not claim to own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters. I do not own any pictures used nor do I claim to do so. 

Always appreciate comments, likes, and reblogs :) 

AN: Aaaaa my first fic finally! Didn't mean to make it this long but I got a bit carried away! I hope you enjoy! (Side note: I was imagining his hair as the style in the black and white pic, just with Targaryen white, Side note 2: I def realise the references to the way Gollum talks about the ring, IT WAS ON PURPOSE)

You never thought you would leave the arena. Every second could have been your last and you still didn’t quite believe you had made it out, that you were standing outside the President’s mansion at a lavish party, dressed in silks and jewels. No one told you how to live after the games were over. It had taken you three days just to be able to get out of bed and move around again after leaving the arena. Being at this party? It felt like a betrayal to all the people who had died so you could live. You sipped from the sickly sweet drink that almost seemed to glow in the night, and looked around the garden. 

Most people had finally left you alone thankfully, though you could still see eyes turning your way, whispers and conversations pointed toward your presence in the garden. At least no one was trying to force you into a picture like some capitol celebrity anymore. 

People in the most lavish costumes customary of the capitol milled about, talking, whispering, cackling like witches in their modified bodies with their modified voices. It was a horror show. The gardens had been decorated with delicate yellow fairy lights strung up in the trees and over poles around the tables. You assumed they wanted to give it a warm and welcoming look with the yellow lighting but it only cast grotesque shadows on the building that was not only the backdrop to this party, but to all your nightmares. There were tables set up with stark white tablecloths draped over them, an area cleared away for a dance floor, and more noise coming from the entrance to the mansion. Avoxes walked around carrying trays of food and drink between their hands, heads bent low, and shame began to rise inside you. What were you doing here? Why were you forced to be here?

There was someone behind you. You didn’t know when you had become so aware of any presence, probably somewhere between fending off humans and wildlife alike in the arena, and you could distinctly feel someone behind you. A slight shadow fell over your shoulders. A small touch rustled the train of your dress. Someone cleared their throat. You turned around, hands quivering, and looked at the man smirking broadly at you. Your first thought, shamefully: was he even real? 

His hair was so blond it was white, cut short and combed back so perfectly he could be no less than an aristocrat. He wore a suit of dark grey over a black shirt, one of the less eccentrically dressed people at the party. But his shoes were lavish. Black and shinier than anything you had ever seen, embroidered with gold thread, gold jewellery dangling from the laces and gems stamped into the fabric. Surely this man was of the richest of the rich, because even in the capitol people were wont to have shoes so lavish. You stared at his shoes for a good minute, whole body frozen, when he cleared his throat once more. You looked at his eyes. You couldn’t tell if they were more blue or grey, like ice had formed over a stormy ocean. 

“And who might you be?” He asked, mouth still smiling, before he brought his glass up to his lips and took a drink while waiting for your answer. 

“You don’t know who I am?” You asked, almost taking a step back. That couldn’t be true. Viewing was mandatory, your face had been plastered across every screen in Panem for weeks, it couldn’t be true that he didn’t know you. And yet… for a moment… it felt so good not to be recognised. You were just some other girl, lost in the crowd at a party, who hadn’t gone through what you had gone through. 

“Well, I may know of you, but I don’t know you know you,” his smile had softened and he stepped closer until his elbow lightly brushed yours and you were both looking out at the party.

“I suppose that’s true,” you answered quietly, still watching his face. His skin was almost as dangerously pale as his hair, and sallow, like he was never quite in the best of health. Though you couldn’t deny the truth, he was a handsome man regardless of his slightly ragged appearance. 

“Aegon Targaryen the second,” he held out his hand, running his eyes over your face like he hadn’t gathered enough of it the first time, “and you?” 

“Y/n L/n,” you breathed out, reaching out an unsteady hand to limply shake his own. He gently clasped your fingers and brought your hand to his mouth, pressing his lips to your knuckles before releasing your hand. It was such an odd sensation, his hot breath brushing over the back of your hand, his fingertips slightly rough - but not enough to suggest any sort of manual labour - clasping the skin of your palm. Your cheeks went hot, the tips of your ears tingling, and you continued staring at this enigma. 

“How has the capitol been treating you?” He asked, chugging the rest of his drink and depositing it on the tray of an Avox as they passed by like some well-practised dance. You didn’t want to reply. “Well, I suppose you haven’t had the time to truly enjoy it. At least, not the truly fun bits anyway,” he shrugged, tilting his head and looking at you like it was a particularly amusing thing he just said. 

You couldn’t understand this at all. Who was this man? What was this interaction? What did he want with you? Why was he acting so mundane, like this was normal?! None of this was normal. 

Noticing the look on your face, Aegon chuckled and reached forward to push some hair over your shoulder. It took everything within you to hold in your shiver. 

“Ah, you must be confused about who I am! I shouldn’t have assumed you would understand the name Targaryen. We may be famous in the capitol but who knows what goes on in the districts,” you swallowed hard and nodded, trying not to flinch at the dig. “Our family works in all sorts of sectors, for example, my uncle Daemon is responsible for manufacturing arms for the state, my younger brother Aemond works under the president in some position or other - god knows he never shuts up about it - and my father currently runs the peacekeeper program. Of course I’m expected to step up to that eventually but- I won’t bore you with the details.” 

You didn’t really consider that work. You had seen the way your parents toiled in the factory every day, had seen the way every member of your family slowly became a hunchback from their work. But you weren’t going to say anything to him. 

“What does your family do?” He asked, and again you almost moved out of surprise. His face seemed so sincere as he watched you, waiting for an answer. 

“I’m from District 8, so my parents work the looms,” you answered slowly. You almost sounded condescending, like you were talking to someone who couldn’t quite understand your words, but Aegon understood it was the shock of him speaking to you. After all, it had only been a week since you had left the arena, he understood how difficult it would be to gain your confidence. It didn’t mean he wouldn’t try. And Aegon was a firm believer that flattery could get you anywhere, especially a girl’s bed. So he decided to change course. 

“Do you see that man over there?” He pointed discreetly to a spot just to your right and you shuffled back so you could look over without being noticed. You sipped from your glass as you noticed the man, an older gentleman wearing a full fursuit topped with a lion’s mane going around his head. Even his face had been painted with fur and whiskers to resemble a lion with the body of a human. You nodded to Aegon, turning away from the man. Something about that picture made you uncomfortable in a way you had never been before. “Well, rumour has it that he wears that entire get up, face paint and all mind you, every time he fucks.” You gasped, staring at Aegon with eyes so wide they started to hurt. 

“You can’t be serious,” you whispered sharply. 

“I am the most serious, dearest. Why would I lie to you?” He smirked, leaning closer once more. He draped his arm over your shoulder and you stiffened for a moment before continuing to listen to his next story. 

You were slowly beginning to relax in Aegon’s company as he continued to chatter to you. He no longer asked questions or expected you to speak, just pointed out people in the crowd and made colourful commentary that had you hiding your face in his shoulder and giggling against the fabric of his suit. He gazed at you with sparkling eyes full of mirth and shared his ever-full glass of whatever drink they were serving at the time. You couldn’t help but be charmed. Maybe, just maybe, not everyone in the capitol was as bad as they seemed. 

“D’you wanna go somewhere quieter?” He finally asked after completely relieving another stranger of their dignity. You took a moment to catch your breath and looked at him, at the sudden darkening of his eyes and the way his tongue poked out to lick his lips. He watched you like a tiger readying to pounce. You nodded without a second thought. Though he had made the party bearable, anywhere would be better than here. He smiled and reached down, sliding his fingers over your inner wrist, then your palm, then grasping your hand in his own. “Come on.” 

Aegon led you into the house and up the stairs, nodding at random people (who sometimes you could barely recognise as people), skilfully dodging attempts at conversation. Up and up the lavish stairs you went before walking down a large hallway and stopping in front of a wall. Aegon pushed at the wall and it gave way, revealing a spiral staircase in the dark that led up into an abyss. 

“Um, are you sure you know where you’re going?” You asked, pausing at the entrance to the rather dingy looking chamber. 

“There are some perks to having been at the president’s mansion practically since I was born. One of those being secret access to the roof, now come on!” He dragged you into the dark and shut the door behind him, before ushering you up the first steps. 

The staircase really wasn’t all that tall. In fact, you could see the top and light bled down from the opening. Your heels clanked against each step and you almost toppled back into Aegon more than once. Then you were at the top. Then you could see the whole Capitol. Oh it was breathtaking! The whole city, laid out before you like a miniature scene to play with. There were lights glimmering in houses and cars on the roads and life! There were signs of life everywhere. Oh you couldn’t believe it. You almost believed you could see to the very edges of Panem. 

 “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Aegon asked, and you turned to meet his eyes. Both of you had moved right to the edge of the rooftop so you could look out over the party, and he moved to stand directly behind you. You could feel his chest press into your back. The fabric of his shirt rubbed against the skin of your back and he was a solid pressure behind you, like the comfort of a wall at your back when you slept. “Hm?” He asked again, bending his head down to run his nose up your neck. You shivered, the light graze was just ticklish enough to start a spark inside of you. 

 “Yes,” you breathed out, clenching your hands on the concrete to stop yourself from leaning back into him. You didn’t know him. You didn’t really know him. You didn’t know him at all. 

 “You know,” he began slowly, hands going to your shoulders and turning you around to face him. “When I first saw you on the television, the day of the reaping, I knew you would win.” Your breath caught in your throat. Your mouth was so dry. You wished you hadn’t discarded that sweet drink so quickly. “And look at you now,” he leaned in closer, cupping your face to force your eyes to meet his, “you’re the winner, the greatest person in Panem, to come out of the districts anyway.” He gently kissed your right cheek, warm lips on plush skin, and when he pulled away the breeze cooled the hint of saliva he had left behind. “You’re the greatest treasure one could possess, you know?” He kissed your other cheek, firmer this time, like he was trying to leave the imprint of his lips on your skin. “Everyone knows the winner of the Hunger Games, and to say you own them? To parade them on your arm for everyone to see, saying you own the very concept of survival?” He seemed to groan in pleasure, and then everything was moving. 

His lips were on yours, slightly wet and forceful. His tongue was delving into your mouth, tasting like sugar, too much sugar, and you wanted to pull back because it was so overwhelming and everything he had just said and and and… and it felt so good too. It was warm, and desperate, like no one had ever been for you before. 

A hand moved into your hair and grasped the strands at the back of your head tight, pulling slightly to tilt your head back so you had to look up at him. He was almost leaning over you so your spine bent over the edge of the roof, and the skin of your back scratched against the unpainted concrete. He huffed against your mouth then pulled back, his other hand coming up to trace your mouth with his thumb. You stared into his eyes but he wasn’t looking back at you, not really anyway. He was watching his prize, the reward that no one but him deserved. 

You whimpered, a small and pathetic sound that only seemed to make his skin hotter, and he let go of your hair to begin pulling the straps of your dress down your arms. It was a heavy thing, and it felt good to finally be rid of the weight, but you were keenly aware of the cold night and the party in full swing just underneath you. If someone in the garden decided to look up, they would surely see you bent over the edge. 

“Wait-” you began to protest, but Aegon was past listening, past caring. He just shoved the dress under your breasts and down your legs, before grabbing your face and bringing your mouth to his own again. His hands travelled over your neck, then caressed your shoulders. He gently pressed the red indents the straps of the dress had left and you sighed into his mouth, leaning onto his chest. Your nipples rubbed against the fabric of his shirt and you gasped into the kiss before moving your chest slightly. The warm little tingles travelled all the way through your torso and you clung to his arms. 

Aegon kissed sloppily over your cheeks, your neck, pausing to bite into it until you grunted with pain and pushed at his shoulder. He licked all the way down to your chest, his tongue warm and wet, then the slick trail of spit suddenly cold. Your legs felt unsteady, and you leaned back against the barrier as he began mouthing at your breasts, little circles of warmth formed everywhere he kissed, and then his mouth closed over your nipple and you clenched. It was so… weird. A wet suction formed over your nipple and it seemed to make the inside of your breast spark, your stomach jolt, and the space between your thighs tingle and turn to mush. 

“Come on precious,” he mumbled against your skin, “you can be louder,” and he bit the flesh. It really was a live wire attached to your skin, so easy to spark, so easy to create a fire that spread all throughout your body. 

Aegon was quicker with the other nipple, licking over it like a dog with a bowl of water, before making his way down to the apex of your thighs. He seemed to be in a hurry with the way he dove his face between your legs. A cry left your lips, loud and shriek-like, at the overwhelming activity. His nose slipped between your lips and pressed to your clit, his tongue out and flat and lapping against the sticky slick that covered the puffy folds that hid your hole. He was ravenous, pressing his face in in in until you stood on your tiptoes and half your weight was balanced against his face. The contours of his face pressed at your hole, his nose rubbed at your clit, and he moved his face back and forth so his tongue could poke inside of you then slip back into his mouth. He began speaking into you, rumbling words you couldn’t understand over the rushing in your head. 

“Come on, cum on my face,” he huffed, grabbing your thighs and licking at your clit until it was puffy and swollen. “I wan’ you to cum on my face, give me what I want.” He pressed his tongue inside you. In. Out. He licked your clit. In. Out. He sucked it into his mouth, and your legs shook so much that you would’ve fallen onto the floor if you weren’t practically laying on the barrier already. It was a release. That’s all it could be called. Every muscle clenched then released. Even your mind felt like it had slowly been clenching and now it had been unravelled and was slowly dripping out of your skull. 

“Fuck, that’s right,” Aegon mumbled as he pulled away, standing to full height and pulling your hips against his own. His hair had fallen forward into his eyes and his mouth and nose glistened in the low light, but he didn’t seem to care one bit. He had leaned over your body again, pressing his face into your neck. The slick on his chin stuck to your skin and squished whenever he moved. He humped into you a few times, grunting and groaning, before hurriedly reaching down and fumbling with his belt and zipper. You could hear the clanking of metal, the rustle of fabric, and then something warm pressing to your thigh. 

There was no waiting with Aegon. His body simply didn’t contain the patience for it, and really why would you wait when the prize you had so long coveted lay bare before you, just ripe for the taking? A shift here, a push there, and he caught at your entrance. He finally pulled away from your neck and looked into your eyes. He caressed your cheek, and you could tell all he saw was a trophy he had just won. 

Then Aegon pressed into you, and his veins rubbed at your slick insides, pressing against your walls and sliding against your own textured flesh and you were leaning back to moan into the night sky, chest heaving. He kissed your breasts and pushed into you again, his lower stomach pressing your clit. Again, he moved into you and the sparks flashed and you clenched around him, onto him, and he moaned against your ear, hot breath fanning the shell. 

“Fuck yes, you’re my precious little thing aren’t you? Huh? You’re my special little prize?” His hips slapped against yours and the sound echoed over the roof. His mouth biting into your neck sent sparks through you. Back and forth and back and forth and back and forth and oh god it was too much! You clenched onto him and screamed into his neck, open mouth pressed to the sweaty skin. You clenched and unclenched onto him as waves passed through you, melting your flesh and your bones. It was over too soon yet it lasted too long. He pushed once more, twice more, and you could feel him quiver against you, even as you tried to push him away from the pulsing flesh of your insides. You could feel the spurts inside you, hot and gushing. You felt it trickle out of you, slide down your thighs in warm rivulets and you shuddered. 

Aegon still lay on top of you, huffing heavily into your neck. You didn’t know what to do, so you stayed still, waiting for guidance, waiting for the other shoe to fall. He slowly pushed up on his arms so his face hovered above yours, and he smiled a dazed and delirious smile. Was it always there, or had it just appeared, that insanity in his eyes? 

“Oh my precious,” he sighed, cupping your cheek, “we have so much ahead.”

[gillotto]

BKDK Hunger Games AU (2)

[kazcreates]

Hunger Games AU

I’m rewatching the Hunger Games, which means you all have to see as I throw yet another HG AU into the world. No, there are not enough already.

Kaz Brekker won his games at 13 years old. He’d volunteered for his brother, Jordie. Jordie had been 17, just about to age out of Reaping age. And yet, his name had been called when those papers were drawn from that stupid glass bowl. Kaz’s name had been in there 53 times, Jordie’s only 10. Despite being the runt of the litter, even in the Barrel District, Kaz had volunteered. And he’d won. He fought like a wild dog, with his nails and teeth. When they pulled him out and crowned him Victor, he’d thought at very least that he’d be going home to his brother. That all of it would have been worth it. He arrived back home to an empty house and an unmarked grave. He’d torn the house to pieces, leaving hardly more than its four walls intact. It had been home for a Victor, and Kaz hadn’t felt like he’d won much of anything. He became a mentor after that, and a good one too. But the Capitol never did quite trust him.

Inej Ghafa won her Games the following year. She was Kaz’s first tribute; although she had not technically been born in his District, her name had been reaped all the same. She had refused to fight, those first few days in the training center. Kaz hadn’t forced her. But he showed her what would happen to her if she chose not to fight. Recordings of the Games were kept for tributes to study, and he had not spared her any detail, had not allowed her to look away from the screen. She agreed to learn how to use a knife after that. She spent most of her Games hiding. Well, maybe that wasn’t the right word. She was not hiding, not out of fear, she was stalking. Tributes would fall with silver knives sticking from their throats, knives that had seemingly come from nowhere. She’d suffered at the hands of the Capitol after being crowned Victor. No one could deny the Capitol their darling.

Jesper Fahey was Kaz’s second tribute. A farm boy with a knack for shooting. There were no guns in the Games, that’d make it too easy, but he could shoot an arrow well enough. Kaz trained him hard, even harder than he’d trained Inej. Because while Inej could rely on her ability to disappear, Jesper was difficult to hide. The Capitol enjoyed his charismatic jokes, which helped Kaz get him enough sponsorships to win him the Games. The life of a Victor didn’t suit him and his father, but the gambling halls kept his mind off the memories.

Nina Zenik was the District One tribute during the following year, which happened to be a Quarter Quell. She was trained to kill since she was a child. They’d supressed her powers before letting her loose in the arena. It would be unfair to put a Grisha against Otkazat'sya. Not that she’d needed luck. A begrudging alliance formed between the careers, just like every other year. But this year was different. This year, the last two standing, regardless of district, would go home Victors. She’d taken a liking to Matthias Helvar, despite the fact that he seemed very keen on betraying her, and was determined to win with him by her side.

Matthias Helvar was the District Two tribute during the Quarter Quell. He’d been trained to leave no survivors, regardless of District. The Quarter Quell would allow two Victors, and he was determined to go home with the second District Two tribute. He didn’t know her, but she was Fjerdan, he didn’t need to know her. Allowing Nina to watch his back, he’d planned to betray her once the numbers had dwindled. He hadn’t calculated falling for the District One tribute. They were both crowned Victor, and became mentors in their respective Districts. Matthias avoided Nina as much as he could, the guilt of losing his district partner to save the life of a Grisha weighing heavily on his shoulders.

Wylan Van Eck was Capitol-born through and through. He had grown up oblivious to the struggles of the Districts. But when he had been deemed a disappointment by his father, he was forced into becoming a stylist for the Games. He worked with the tributes from the Barrel District. As a stylist, he was forced to watch the Games, watch the violence and brutality. He’d watch alongside Kaz as the tributes fell. If the Bastard of the Barrel was feeling particularly charitable, he’d tell Wylan when to close his eyes and avoid the worst of it. He wanted the Games gone, but with a Gamemaker as a father, he didn’t have much of a choice but to do what he was told, unless he wanted to end up in the arena too.

[illyxion]

Hunger Games AU feat. Damian & Jason

Bonus drawing of Damian watching Jason in the Arena.

Concept sketch—I reduced their age gap so both are of Reaping age. Jason’s body is pre-death, giving him a disadvantage in the Games. Meanwhile, Damian is just a helpless boi trying to get by in District 12.

[perseus-vii]

Hawkeye Hunger Games AU

Okay this is definitely not fleshed out or anything but like:

- Kate Bishop, from like district 1-2?

- Yelena from district 1, where they actually train for the games.

- A few years ago Natasha volunteered to accompany her best friend Clint when he got drafted, and she ended up sacrificing herself so he could go home.

- Eleanor Bishop has been bribing people and making sure her daughter's name is not entered in the ballot for as long as possible

- but she pisses off kingpin, aka the President. He decides to make her pay for it by arranging for Kate's name to be drawn for the arena.

- Kate being from the 1/2 district has definitely been training all her life in preparation, although she is unaware of her mother's dealings for her protection.

- in addition to sending Kate to the arena, kingpin wants to make sure to send a message, and in comes yelena

-yelena basically gets hired to make sure Kate Bishop does not come out of the arena.

- at first she refuses, but then she is told Clint volunteered to be there to protect Kate, whom he's taken under his wing since his return from the games.

- so she accepts to volunteer, seeing a chance to take revenge for her sister's death, which she attributes to Clint.

- from here Kate and Yelena meet in the capitol, and since Yelena has been instructed to make it look like an accident she decides to befriend Kate in order to get a better idea as how to take her out the best way once they're in the arena.

-except that Kate Bishop is very charming and not at all what Yelena expected.

- so her plans change and she decides that Kate will be the one making it out of the arena no matter what.

[gh0stsp1d3r]

President Cameron (based off coryo snow)

Hunger games au