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hidden-poet · 14 hours ago

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Poison: part 2

Summary: Coriolanus always hated Sejanus Plinth. He had everything that Coriolanus should of had; money, influence, and you.

Warnings: Coryo being de-lu-lu, unrequited love, Reader insert, dark!Coriolanus snow, unedited, dead dove to not eat

Word count: 15,053

Part 1 here

Part 3 coming.

Coriolaus wakes early the next morning and races to the Citadel to drop off Dr Gauls homework.

He carried his anxiety about Dr Gauls potential comments along with him to his session with Lucy-Grey.

He struggled to sit still, twirling his pen around and around in his hand. It was not how he wanted to present himself to Lucy-gray.

What he wanted was her trust, her loyalty, her obedience. Things that would be hard to gain if he gave off a school-boy impression.

Instead he forced his nails into the palm of his hand under the table, and tried to focus on Lucy-Gray as she spoke.

“I am sorry about your friend”, she offered.

“Thank you”, he returned.

“That other girl. Was she okay? The guards whisked you away so fast. I couldn’t see-”.

Something about her asking about you made Coriolanus irritated.

He supposed it was just the image it brought back. The sheer shock upon your face, the fear that he wouldn’t get to you in time.

“She’s fine”, he interrupted. His pen began twirling in his hand again.

He wished he could have seen you this morning to check on you. You most likely woke up in the arms of Sejanus. He wouldn’t check on you like he should. His first words would have been complaints about the games.

He shouldn’t be here really. Who choses mentoring a boy sure to die rather than taking care of you at home. Coriolanus bet he made no protest when you got ready for school.

If it had been Coriolanus, as it should be, he would have ensured you stayed home in bed. He wouldn’t have left your side after yesterday. He wouldn’t have even let you be there yesterday.

First Sejanus causes the wound, and then he isn’t man enough to take care of you properly. How sweet it will be, the day you finally belong to Coriolanus Snow.

“I need you to sing in these interviews. It’s your last chance to win people over. I can’t send you gifts in the area without their money”, he states.

“Maybe a guitar could persuade me. Maybe”, Lucy-gray offers.

“Snow. Dovecote” Dean highbottom calls.

Coriolanus whips around to see Peacekeepers waiting for them by the door.

He could piece the clues together to come to the conclusion that Dr Gaul had called them.

Clemmie on the other hand waited until they were climbing the Citadel steps to ask her obvious question.

“She can’t actually have expected us to write that report. Could she? I was crying for hours last night”.

Corionaus sighs. If Clemmie had kept her mouth shut he would have been next to you. You’d be nervous and in need of comfort, no matter how tough you talked.

“We did write it. I handed it in this morning”, he states.

This time Clemmie sighed, “Great, give me the highlights”.

Coriolanus obliged her if only to keep his mind focused. His bullet points took him up the entry stairs and through the doorway to Dr Gauls lab.

The lab exceeded coriolanus horrific expectations.

It was cold and the large space only housed a long corridor of strange creatures in glass cabinets.

Coriolanus taps the casing of a fish-type creature only to see if it moves.

Its eyes shoot open only for a second before falling back into a drugged sleepy state.

What exactly was Dr Gaul doing? What were these things? For what purpose could they be used for?

“Mr Snow. Ms Dovecote. Come and see my new babies”. Dr Gaul's voice boomed in the empty space.

Coriolaus left the fish, following Clemmie as Dr Gaul led them to a new section and over to a large tank of colorful serpents.

The rainbow moved within the glass in perfect sync. It was hard to tell where one snake started and another ended.

“Is there a point to the color?”Clemmie asked.

Dr Gaul scoffs at her as she ascends the stairs to the top of the glass cage.

“There’s a point to everything, Ms Dovecote, or nothing at all”, Dr Gauls answers.

She spins to face the children, and rests against the side of the enclosure.

“I must say I was expecting Miss y/n, in your place Ms Dovecott”.

“As I said, Dr Gaul, Coriolanus and I do all our assignments together”, Clemmie defended.

“Which is exactly why I was expecting the other one”. Dr Gauls eyes flick to Coriolanus, “exactly, which part did you write Miss Dovecott?”.

Coriolanus tries to pull Clemmie out of the hole she was in but Clemmie talks over top of him.

“There was-”.

“I was inspired by Coriolanus, of course. But the sponsorships, and the gifts in the arena. They were all mine”, she cut him off.

“Clemmie”, he warns. Dr Gaul already knew she played no part. Lying to her would only aggravate her sadistic tenancies.

Dr Gual takes the bait. Crossing her hands in an almost gleeful manner she addresses Clemmie.

“So it’s your sweaty handwriting on that page? Very impressive, Miss Dovecote”, Dr Gauls fawns.

Coriolanus knew it was a tease. He anticipated the come down and the potential consequences of her lie.

“Unfortunately’, Dr Gaul continues, “My assistant mistook it for trash and lined the shelf of this very terrarium with it”.

Dr Gaul slides back the hatch to show the students the paper that was trapped between the snakes.

“Retrieve it for us, won't you? So we might all consider your inspired ideas”, Dr Gaul smiles.

Coriolanus hand twitched. He imagines you in Clemmies place now. How close he would have pulled you. How his own hands would latch themselves over yours and shield them against your chest.

He wondered if he should do the same for Clemmie. She was an old friend, and her grades helped him to the top.

Still he only stood back and watched. Half-Curious as to what would happen.

The snakes couldn't be poisonous. Dr Gaul wouldn’t play with a students life. Especially a student from a high status family like Clemmie’s.

Maybe. Coriolanus thinks back to the weird, mutated animals that lined the hallway. There was really no telling what Dr Gaul was capable of.

“Don’t worry. My little predators are perfectly docile with those they can trust. So if they’re used to your scent, if you’ve handled their food, for example, or if they have inhaled the sweat of your palm on a page..they’ll leave you alone. If not, You’d be on your own, little girl”.

Coriolanus knew from her words that Dr Gaul words were a threat. Those Snakes would harm Clemmie.

Yet she reached her hand into the enclosure.

“Clemmie!” Coriolanus grits.

He is ignored to her own peril.

As soon as her hand brushes against the edge of the page, a Snake lashes out and strikes the flesh that proposes to retrieve the paper.

Clemmie screams upon impact. Trying desperately to shake the snake from her hand, she loses balance and topples off the stand.

“Clemmie! No, no!” Coriolanus attempts to catch her as she falls, but Dr Gaul hinders him by pulling him back by his arm.

She lands with a heavy thud on her back. Gasps fill the air as she tires to regain her breath.

Already she looked pale. The skin on her hand turned a pale green color, and her eyes refused to blink or look anywhere else but directly in front of her.

“You asked about the colors, Ms Dovecott. I want my enemies to see a rainbow of destruction engulfing the world. I am not above using spectacle to create a little terror. A strategy your classmate here articulated very well in his proposal”.

Coriolanus watches as two peacekeepers and assistant come running over. The assistant administered a large needle which helped Clemmie regain her breath but not her composition.

The Peacekeepers then, without care, began to drag Clemmie across the floor and out a near door.

Coriolanus was left alone with Dr Gaul who turned her attention to him.

“I wonder if y/n would have chosen the same decision?”, she questioned.

“Will she die?” Coriolanus asked in a hard tone. More than Dr Gaul mentioning you, he hated the image of you lying in Clemmies place.

Dr Gaul shrugs her shoulders as if it didn’t really matter.

“The pleasure of breaking ground in one’s research is one gets to find out”, she dismissed.

She smirks as she turns back to the enclosure. Her hand reaches in and she begins to play with her pet snakes.

“You don’t like me talking about her do you?”, Dr Gaul picks up a loose piece of paper and thrusts it at Coriolanus, “for a boy who came up with these proposals, you sure do wear your heart on your sleeve”.

The paper crumbles in Coriolanus' grip. He looks at it to avoid eye contact with Dr Gaul.

“What would Miss y/n think if she saw them? They’re good, these proposals. I am planning to implement as many as possible”.

This causes Coriolanus to look up at Dr Gaul. If you knew, you were sure to never forgive him.

“Don’t worry” Dr Gaul said, as if she could read his mind, “I’ll take credit for this one. Miss y/n is yet to realize her place in this world”.

Dr Gaul closes the hatch to the snakes enclosure, turning her body towards Coriolanus.

“And who is to be beside her, wouldn’t you say?”, she taunts.

Coriolanus straightens up, dropping the ruined paper to the ground.

“Y/n isn’t part of this conversation”, Coriolanus snaps.

Dr Gaul grins at him in response, stepping closer so she could talk quieter but still be heard.

“We both want a new world, Mr Snow. My only question is how far are you willing to go to get it?’

She doesn’t let him answer. Seemingly, now bored of the conversation.

“Now run along, you have an arena to promote and it’s time for my milk and crackers”, she dismisses.

He takes the chance to leave. Storming down the steps and back along the hallway as fast as he could.

Coriolanus tries to keep himself from running out of the Citadel. He nearly stumbles over his feet trying to get out as quick as he can.

Turning behind him every so often to make sure no one was following him.

The whole scene plays in his mind again and again.

He was glad it wasn’t you in the end. You were already so traumatized after yesterday, it was a relief to not have to put you through that ordeal.

The walk through of the arena was not for another hour. He had time to check on you.

He was sure you were at school. Your parents wouldn’t let Sejanus into the house, and you wouldn’t have left Sejanus after yesterday. There was little chance you would have stayed at the Plinths. A smaller chance of Sejanus forcing you to as he should have.

Suddenly, Sejanus’ lack of care turned out to be a good thing.

Sejanus would be with his mentor getting ready for the tour. Which meant Coriolanus could see you without company.

He knew your class schedule well. He liked the knowledge while he was in one class, he knew which one you were in.

So he knew where to go and wait until the bell rang.

A group of people rushed out of the classroom before you. You were the only one walking alone so you were easy to spot.

You almost walk past him but he grabs your wrist and pulls you out of the line of people to a quiet staircase.

“Coriolanus?” you question.

You don’t fight him as he pulls you against the wall and stands in front of you like a shield.

The people who walk past eye the scene but make nothing of it.

“Coriolanus, are you okay?” you question.

He couldn’t tell you about Clemmie and Dr Gaul but he was also so desperate for comfort.

“Is it Arachne?” you ask. He nods his head ‘yes’ although his mind was far from it.

You put your hand that was free from the weight of your books on his shoulder.

“It’s not your fault’’, you console.

“I just wish I could have done more”, he lied.

He had thought little about Arachne since last night. But she was once again bringing you closer to him.

You shake your head, a sad expression pulls across your face and he instantly regrets his lie. Yesterday was traumatic to you, he shouldn't have played it up just for some sympathy.

“No” you repeat, “what happened was no one's fault but her own”.

He wanted to make the argument that perhaps the fault lies with no one else but the tribute, but it would open a conversation he did not want to have.

Instead he reaches up and places his hand on your elbow that had reached out to him.

“Are you okay?” he asks. It should have been his first question.

“I am fine” you say.

Your hand drops from his shoulder and he is forced to put his hand on the brick wall next to your hip.

The position wedged you in a corner. With his tall frame towering over you and now his arm blocking you in. It felt as if you were trapped.

“You should talk to someone. Arachne was your friend”, you state.

You shuffle slightly forward to hint to him that he was too close but he remains stagnant in his place.

“Arachne was not my friend”, he deflects.

You never liked her which meant Coriolanus never liked her.

“You're my friend. Arachne was just someone I grew up with. I hardly knew her”, Coriolanus tried a softer tone as his previous speech came off harder than intended.

He offered a kind smile that you did not return.

“I’ve been worried about you all day” he breathes.

His hand moves to your hip, and you are quick to push it off.

“Coriolanus you are acting strange, perhaps you should go see the school doctor. No one would blame you if you chose to drop out of mentoring after yesterday”.

Strange you called it. Not a man desperately in love. But a mad man that needs to be taken away.

This causes him to take a step back away from you. His eyes go down to the ground but shoot back up at you. Mentoring. In a haste he checks his watch.

He was supposed to be at the Arena in fifteen minutes but he is twenty minutes away.

He groans, cursing the length of the Citadel from here, and cursing your late class.

“I have to leave”, he says, “i just came to make sure you were okay”.

“I am”, you acknowledge.

He steps forward again, placing his hands on your shoulder blades and pulling you forward into his chest.

You stumble into him, timidly raising your hands to pat his lower back.

“Forget your last class, you should go home”, he begs.

He feels you push back against him so he lets you go and takes a step back.

“You should worry more about yourself. You look so pale”.

When you reach out to touch his forehead, he leans into your touch. Loving the way your little warm hand felt.

He knew it didn’t mean anything. You were kind. He could have been anyone and you would have done the same thing.

Still he allows himself a second of pretend that it meant more.

“I have to go”, he says again, “Just promise me that you’ll go home”.

“Sure, Coriolanus”, you amuse.

It was enough to hear it. He didn’t need to believe it.

With a final smile, he reaches up to touch your elbow once more and leaves you in the dark corner.

His run to the arena would have been easier for him if he had any fuel to burn.

His breakfast of a single potato did not provide enough energy to make the distance, yet he pushed himself further than his body wanted him to.

It paid off when he reached the arena just in time for walk-in.

He filed in next to Lucy-Grey seconds before the doors opened.

“I didn’t think you were going to make it”, lucy-Grey admits.

“We’re going to win this” Coriolanus vows, “Together”.

The arena is dark. An ominous red glow from the ticket vendor invites them in.

The camera crew are already there, pointing their large frames in the faces of the tributes.

Lucy-Grey smiles at it, before it pans to a Solomon looking Sejanus walking behind his tribute.

When the shutters open, the streaming light startles Lucy-Grey who pulls back against Coriolanus.

He steadies her, looking around for possible strategies.

“Please” Lucy-Grey grabs his arm to turn him towards her, “Please, Coriolanus, don’t let me die in here tomorrow”.

Before he can answer he is knocked off his feet by a large explosion. He feels heavy gusts of wind from three other directions meaning there was no safe direction he could turn too.

Lucy-Grey lands beside him, and he scrambles to help her to her feet.

The dust is heavy and clouds them. He could feel lucy-gray in his grasp but could only faintly see her. The screams and commotion make it impossible to hear what she is trying to say.

Another loud explosion tore the roof down over them.

He releases Lucy-gray so they could both run for cover.

Days of the war spring to his memory. The rebels were back to finish him off.

The force of the explosion knocked him off balance and onto the floor.

He could see peoples feet as they scramble past but none stop to help him.

A louder, cracking noise spoke of his bigger issue and he turns to see a large pailing coming down towards him.

Knowing he wouldn't have enough time to get to his feet, he began to crawl as fast as he could.

It wasn’t fast enough. The hot metal pailing pins his shoulder to the ground. He could smell his own flesh burning as he lay trapped.

Was this how it ended? He regrets not kissing you today. He had always been reserved. Afraid of your rejection. But he should have just took. Now he’ll die without ever getting to taste you.

Through the smoke he could see Lucy-Grays boots come into view.

“Help me” he begs. He still had so much to do.

She looks to be bending down to assist when she is interrupted by Marcus flying across towards the open door.

“Leave him” he demands, “He wouldn’t save you”.

Marcus doesn’t stick around for her decision. Running to his freedom just across the room.

It was true, if it come down to it Coriolanus would save himself. But Lucy-Gray needed him to survive. She would only get caught in the Capitol and then thrown in the area without a mentor.

She must have realized that too because she bent back down to lift the burning metal off Coriolanus. She didn’t have to lift it far for Coriolanus to roll out from under it.

He is panting heavily he realizes, and is unable to move his shoulder.When Peacekeeper came to take lucy-gray away. Coriolanus couldn’t even rise from the floor to stop them.

He throws out his good hand in an attempt to do something. But the searing pain in his shoulder and his cloudy head hindered him from being able to help.

The last image he could see was her looking down at her burnt hands before it all went black.

His pounding headache woke him to the sight of you by his bed.

He didn’t believe it. He had to be dead.

His hand lashes out to take a hold of your wrist. You felt real.

Your reaction seemed real. A startled look of surprise and discomfort.

“Woah, Corio, take it slow”, the voice of Tigres calls to him.

He looks away from your face to see Tigres sitting in the chair next to you.

“What?” Coriolanus questioned, “What happened?”.

He lets go of your wrist only so he could rise from the bed. The ache in his shoulder becoming more apparent as he moved.

“It was a rebel bombing. They must have been planning it for months. Four tributes were killed”.

Coriolanus almost scowls hearing his voice.

Sejanus sat in a chair positioned on the other side of the bed. You hadn’t come to him in his hour of need. You were merely tagging along with your boyfriend.

“Everyone is terrified, Corio” Tigres explains, “Fliex Ravenstill is on life support”.

“The rebels released a message. They said they want to tear down the symbol of the Hunger Games. Marcus got out. He’s the only one. Peacekeepers are hunting him in the streets but at least he has a better chance out there than he would tomorrow”, Sejanus gravely mutters.

“Tomorrow?” Coriolanus expounds, “They’re not still going ahead with the Games?”

“We can’t look weak in front of the enemy,” you spat, “Everything is going ahead as scheduled. I don’t even know if Lucy-Gray will be able to play tonight”.

“The interviews”, Coriolanus guessed, still hazy.

He pulls himself up out of bed, holding out his arm for you to help his rise.

You do, automatically, hooking his good arm over your shoulder and wrapping your arm across his waist to keep him up.

‘‘You shouldn’t get out of bed”, you criticize him.

Normally he wouldn’t ignore you, but the interviews started fifty minutes ago.

Sejanus rises to in order to assist Coriolanus as he shuffles forward, but Coriolanus barks another order at him.

“Sejanus, turn the Tv to the interviews”.

Like a good dog, he obeys. Leaving another man hanging onto his girlfriend.

“Careful, Corio” Tigres directs.

Coriolanus takes tigres arm as he couldn’t lift his shoulder so all his weight wasn’t passed on to you.

The Tv turns just in time to watch Lucy-gray come out with a guitar, and a big smile.

Sejanus makes his way over to you, offering to take your place as Coriolanus’ anchor.

He is quick to speak for you. Stating that the change would topple him to the floor.

Sejanus relents and takes his place beside you. You made no complaints so Coriolanus’ weight couldn’t have been hurting you.

Coriolanus had missed the opening introduction due to Sejanus, but was now focused enough as Lucy-Gray went into her song.

“Where did she get the guitar?” Coriolanus asks. He had been too busy to organize her one before the bombing.

“I brought it for her”, you answer, “i went to see if she was okay after the bombing and she said she needed a guitar for her interview. Said she’ll feel naked without it”.

“Thank you. That was very kind”, Coriolanus commended softly.

Coriolanus always knew someday that you and him would make a great team.

Your eyes are trained on Lucy-gray, and Coriolanus followed suit.

She sang about a boy back home and a betrayal. Was that what she was referring to when she said it was complicated back home. Will she fight with everything she had in her or does she secretly hope that she will die just to spite her past lover.

It was additional stress Coriolanus could have lived without.

“The poor girl” you mutter with tears rolling down your face.

Coriolanus squeezes your shoulders in comfort.

‘She’ll be okay” he promises. He would ensure it for his own survival and your personal satisfaction now that you and his tribute were friendly.

“Thank you for being here”, he says looking down at you, before turning his sights to Tigres, “All of you”.

“It’s what friends do”, Sejanus answers. The only person Coriolanus was not speaking to.

“I don’t think you should be standing”, you say, trying to turn Coriolanus back to bed.

He allows you to lead him there where you tuck him back into bed.

You ruin the moment by going straight back into Sejanus’ arms once Coriolanus has settled.

“We’ll leave you to rest” Sejanus states.

He looked too unhappy for a man who held you in his arms.

“Goodnight” he bids, ‘and y/n, thank you for helping Lucy-Gray tonight”.

Her performance wouldn't have been half as moving with the soft, sad melody accompanying it.

“Good luck, Coriolanus. I hope she wins”, you remark.

With the Plinth prize and the love of his life on the line; lucy-gray was going to be the 10th annual winner of the Hunger Games.

Coriolanus just had to figure out how to give her a competitive edge.

He visited the zoo later that night after scouting out the new arena. With four tributes already dead and the new tunnels revealed, the bombing may have been the best thing that had ever happened to him.

“Lucy-gray!” he calls softly, “Lucy-gray!”

He can hear the pounding of her footsteps as they come closer. He checks for Guards and woken tributes as she made unnecessary noise. None were aroused so he remained in his spot.

“You’re alive!” She exclaims as she nears the fence.

“Those bombs have changed everything”, he wastes no time to explain his purpose here, “They blew the walls out. So that means you can escape up into the stands. Theres a hole down in the floor, it leads down to some tunnels. You can escape there, I tried it.So the moment you hear that bell ring, you run as fast as you can for that hole and find a palace to hide down below alone”.

‘Alone? No, jessups my friend”, she argues.

He shakes his head ‘no’.

“The moment that bell rings, you can’t trust anyone. Not even jessup. Just lay low down there until its safe to come out”, he demands.

Couldn't she see that she was risking not only her own life, but his, with her undying loyalty.

“Thank you. You and y/n have been so nice to me. I don’t know what I would have done without you both”, Lucy-Grey declares, “I don’t know how i’ll ever pay you back for your kindness”.

“You can win”, Coriolanus orders, “you winning will be life changing for y/n and I. We can finally live the life we want to live. When you win, you’ll win for all of us”.

‘I’ll try, but-” she begins but never finishes as Coriolanus cuts her off.

“Theres no ‘buts’. Theres no other option”, he asserts.

Lucy-Gray begins to cry from the pressure of it all.

“Hey”, he whispers in sympathy.

“I am sorry. I am more hopeful in the day light but when it gets to night”, she whimpers.

“It’s okay” he consoles, reaching for his handkerchief in his pocket. The same one he used to wipe your tears, he now used to wipe the tears of Lucy-gray.

“We are going to win, Lucy-Gray. I promise.”.

“Y/n, real lucky to have a friend like you” Lucy-gray comments.

He knew that. Who else would be willing to risk everything for your happiness. It didn’t even bother him that Lucy-gray referred to him as your friend.

All that matters is that someone else realizes the depth of his love.

“I am very lucky to have her”. He breaths. He was cautious to say too much.

“Look, that song, I need to know that you are serious about winning”, he demands.

“That song? That was just pay back, that’s all”, she defenders, “my old boyfriend Billy taupe was cheating on me with the mayor's daughter. She got crazy jealous, had her pa read my name out on stage, and now everyone will know what they did to me”.

The look upon her face told him that she was serious, so he reached into his breast pocket to pull out his most prized possession.

“Here” he shoves the compact into Lucy’s-Grays hand.

“I can’t” she resists, “It’s too fine”

He clasps his hands over hers to stop her passing it back.

“It’s not a gift. It’s a loan. His large hands wrap entirely around Lucy-Gray’s little fingers.

“Whats in here, don’t touch it. Don’t even breathe it in because small amounts can be deadly”.

He could faintly see Lucy-gray staring back at him in the dark. Her big brown eyes caught the lighting of the Zoo and shined back at him.

“I have seen what war does to people, okay?”, he lectures, “I’ve seen it, and there will come a time when you need this, when you need to act. We all do things we’re not proud of to survive.”

Unexpectedly she brings her head forward to bars in an attempt to kiss him. He lowers his head slightly to dissuade her.

The last thing he needed was word getting back to you through a Tribute pretending to be asleep, or just his poor luck to have a Capitol citizen decide to visit the Zoo at the exact moment of weakness.

“I am sorry”, she gasps, “you said it was complicated with y/n, and y/n said she was with Sejanus so I”.

She doesn’t finish her sentence, too embarrassed.

Coriolanus shakes it off like it was nothing, in an attempt to ease her.

“It’s fine. I just”, Coriolanus wasn’t sure what to say.

You were with Sejanus. There was no real reason why he couldn’t kiss lucy-gray.

It was mis-guided loyalty to a woman who kissed another man. Sometimes right in front of Coriolanus.

Still it didn’t feel right. He wanted you to be the only person he kissed.

“It’s”, Coriolanus begins.

“Complicated”, Lucy-Gray finishes.

Coriolanus moves closer, bringing his head as far as he could to the bars.

“We’re gonna win this Lucy-Gray. We’re gonna win this together. I’m going to get you home, back to the Covery, okay? I promise”.

Coriolanus looks at his victor. His dog in the race. He’s bet it all on her, and he’ll be damned if she was going to let him down.

The morning of the Games, Coriolanus couldn’t even eat his cabbage soup that Tigres had worked so hard to prepare.

He kisses Grandma’am and Tigress goodbye before beginning his long journey to school.

There would be cameras and crowds of people. He had to look composed, but inside he felt the most scared he had ever been.

The feeling eased seeing you across the auditorium.

Your hair was down, and your uniform looked freshly pressed. Sejanus held you by the waist as you spoke to him, and you rested your hands on top of his.

It didn’t matter you were here for Coriolanus just as much as you were for Sejanus. His tribute wasn’t even participating. If anything you had come to support Coriolanus and Lucy-Gray.

“Coryo!” Sejanus called for him as he approached the mentors chairs.

Sejanus lets go of you, which is something Coriolanus would never do, to place a hand on Coriolanus shoulder.

“Hey” Coriolanus greets. His eyes remain on you and how you smile at him.

“How you doing? You alright?” Sejanus asks.

“Better”, Coriolanus dismisses.

He sees a photographer approaching from the corner of his eye, and takes the opportunity to take a step back to invite you between Sejanus and himself.

With a hand on your lower back, he propels you forward. The hand remains as you shuffle next to him.

“Over here please!”, the man with the large camera calls.

Coriolanus smiles at the camera, and he hoped you were too. The flash blinds him, and your smiles fades too fast to be certain it ever was really there.

“How are you this morning?”, Coriolanus asks softly.

“Not about to be forced to fight to the death”, you snap.

You don’t look at him as you speak as you often choose not to do.

“Here we go. Here we go, everyone, come on”, Lucky flickerman diverts people back to their seats, before Coriolanus has the opportunity to comfort you.

Sejanus' large hand goes to the back of your neck, and he leans down to whisper in your ear.

“Wait for me over there?” he asks, flicking his head to the nearest bleacher to his seat.

It was the furthest from Coriolanus’ seat, but you nod in agreement and move to his direction.

Coriolanus is ushered into his own seat. He has to crane his neck to look at you sitting on the end of the bleacher all by yourself. He hates to see you as a social out-cast.

“Five, four, three, two”, the music signals the start of Lucky Flickerman's introduction.

Coriolanus ignores him mostly. Turning in his chair to watch you engrossed in the large television in front of you.

Your hands grip the seat underneath you. He would give anything to be able to comfort you.

He wanted to tell you that it was all going to be okay. If he sat you where he wanted, he would have been able to hold your hand, but Sejanus had put distance between you and him, so he would have to watch from afar.

Suddenly you gasp, bring your hand up to your mouth with a frightened expression.

Coriolanus turns back to the screens to see what could have caused such a reaction.

They had found Marcus and left him strung up and half-alive in the arena. It was cruel even for Coriolanus.

You shouldn’t have had to see that. Coriolanus wished he could have protected you from it. A district boy taught a lesson, at the expense of your poor, soft heart.

You’ll be crying about it for weeks with only Sejanus for consolation.

Coriolanus wasn’t sure who would be comforting who with the way Sejanus jumped from his chair.

As soon as he is out of it, the chair was flying across the room. Only stopping when it hits the force of the wall.

“You’re monsters! All of you!” He screams to the audience.

He storms past Lucky flickerman who begins the countdown to the Games as if Sejanus had never existed at all.

Coriolanus gets up, rushing over to you as you rise to follow Sejanus.

He manages to catch your arm just as you make it to the exit way.

The scene was out of the line of camera-shot. Past the first three rows of seats, and hidden by the depth of the stands.

Coriolanus felt hidden enough to not let go of your arm, despite you struggling against him.

You turn back to see how had stopped you with an angry expression, but it doesn’t soften when you see it’s him.

“Don’t”, he begs. He wanted you to stay and support him.

It didn’t matter if you knew it or not, but you were his biggest comfort, and that’s what he needed as he watched Lucy-Gray fight for his life.

You don’t listen to him, tugging your arm out of his grip and chasing after Sejanus without looking back.

Coriolanus watches as you go with a heavy breath.

‘And they’re off!” Lucky announces.

Coriolanus turns to watch Lucy-Gray run from her mark.

“Run”, he demands softly. He takes a few steps forward but is halted when Lucy-Gray remains in the same spot, looking around.

“What are you doing? Run” he groans.

He staggers back to his seat, gripping the plastic back tightly in his hand.

His eyes shut when Lucy-Gray narrowly avoids a strike from Reaper.

Why won’t anyone ever listen to him, he wondered.

A district 2 kid gets slaughtered which gains the Cameras full attention. When it pans back to a field shot, Lucy-Gray was crossing the broken fragments with Coral hot on her heels.

Coriolanus felt the need to take a seat as he watched. A few of his eliminated classmates wished him well as they left, but Coriolanus remained slumped against his hand.

It wasn’t until she had gathered Jessup and began racing for the hole in the ground that Coriolanus lifted his head again.

“Go, go, go”, he muttered. The pack was closing in. Hell bent on taking out Lucy-gray.

They almost manage to, but Lucy-Gray slips through the broken door, and a squabble prohibits the hunters coming in.

He sighs. At least she was safe for now. He would worry about Jessup when it came time for it. Whats the point of worrying now? It was still anybody's game. He could very well die within the next hour from a surprise attack.

Coriolanus squirms in his seat watching as another child is hacked apart by dull weapons.

He pushes it from his mind as soon as the camera shifts. Lucy-Gray was safe, thats all that mattered. She still has a shot at winning.

Nothing more happened. All the tributes found shelter in one corner or another. Only Reaper paced the opened space, willing someone to come attack him.

Coriolanus wonders if you will be back. He hoped you would come check on him.

Coriolanus rises his head to the screen once more as Lamina makes her way up the broken fragments to where Marcus hung. Reaper gave her space, seemingly knowing what she was doing.

A small conversation between the two preceded Lamina swinging her axe down.

Coriolanus shudders hearing the impact. He hoped you didn’t see that.

He could only imagine the sobbing it would cause.

Lamina cuts marcus down and he falls like a bag of bricks.

She gazes down at him. Coriolanus couldn’t tell if it was in remorse, or in quiet pride of giving him a merciful death.

The sound of the drone coming near broke her concentration. The water attached swung in the air as it flew too fast towards her. She rose, reaching out to catch it.

Coriolanus almost laughed when it drove straight past her and smashed into the rocks.

The night dragged on, but Coriolanus remained. Eyes glued to the screen in hope of a glance of Lucy-Gray.

The camera stayed mainly above ground where the action was, but sometimes he got a dash at what Lucy-Gray was doing.

She was still alive. Or at least was, ten minutes ago.

The other mentors, and most of the audience had left as the night bled.

Nothing had really happened for hours. A squabble or a chase here and there but most of the fight had left the tributes.

“If only you could trap y/n as easily as you have trapped that poor girl”, Dean Highbottoms voice surprised Coriolanus.

“I’ve trapped her?”Coriolanus fought, “I didn’t create the Games”.

He saw Dean Highbottom flinch ever so slightly. If he hadn't been looking so intensely, he would have missed it.

“No”, Highbottom concedes, “but you’ve fueled its continuance. You’ve turned dying children into spectacles , Mr Snow. Congratulations”.

Coriolanus ignores him, turning back to the screens.

“Are you honestly hoping that winning the plinth prize will win you the girl?”, Dean Highbottom mocks.

“I am hoping my hard work will pay off”, Coriolanus bites.

“I saw you before with miss y/n, trying to stop her from leaving”.

“I was trying to stop her from making a fool out of herself”.

“What do you want from that poor girl?”.

Coriolanus knew there was no point in lying. Dean Highbottom had already figured out Coriolanus’ intentions.

“Only whats best”, he answers.

“Hm and you think winning the Plinth prize will help you decide what is best for her?”, Hightbom begins to laugh, his voice taking on a sing-songy tone, “Wake up mr Snow. Who do you think decides? Even if your songbird wins, I’ll do everything in my power to ensure you don’t see a single dime of that prize money’.

Coriolanus turns back to Highbottom with his anger logged in his throat.

The older man smiles back. Coriolanus knew the man was trying to get him to slip up. But his aggravation won’t lose him the prize. If Highbottom wanted it, he would have to rip it from Coriolanus’s hands.

Instead he turns back to the screen. Lucy-gray was still underground, feeding Jessup water.

He could hear Dean Highbottom walking away which left him with a small victory.

Coriolanus takes a deep breath, and sits straightener in his chair.

It wasn’t over. Dean Highbottom wasn’t the only authority. When Coriolanus won, surely Dr Gaul would fight for him. The other teachers too. The star pupil robbed of the victory? Coriolanus would see to an up roar.

At some point Coriolanus began to doze off. The late night and the slow turn of events left him the last one in the auditorium. The quietness of it all had his eyes shutting.

“Coriolanus?”. He heard your voice call.

He ignores it ,sure it was a dream. But you tap his arm, and his eyes shoot open to see you standing in front of him.

You were still in your school uniform, your hair slightly more messy than a couple of hours prior and you looked on the verge of tears.

It panicked him greatly to see you in such a state.

He reaches out, quickly taking your wrist in his hold.

“Huh, what happened? Are you okay?”, he asks.

“Has Sejanus been here?”, you quake.

Coriolanus shakes his head ‘no’.

He could have rolled his eyes. Of course, Sejanus was behind your tears once more. Coriolanus had never made you cry.

“Why would he be here?”, Coriolanus asks. It seemed an unlikely place to visit while his old friend lay dead on several different screens.

Tears begin to roll down your cheeks causing Coriolanus to spring up, attempting to bring you in his arms. You push him away, keeping an arms length distance between you both.

“I thought maybe he would come see you. We were sleeping and I woke up, and he was gone”, you explain with a shaky breath, “I don’t know where he could have went, Coriolanus. He’s not in a good place. I am worried-”

“Not in a good place, indeed” Dr Gauls voice booms through the open space.

This time when Coriolanus touched you, he was given permission. He pulls you next to him to face Dr Gaul together.

Dr Gaul was disinterested in the couple, taking the master remote and turning all the channels to the same camera.

“Sejanus!”, you gasp upon seeing your boyfriend knelt down next to his old friend in the arena.

Your hand takes a hold of Coriolanus' arm in a tight grip. Your painted nails dig into his uniform jacket.

“Breadcrumbs” Dr Gaul annotates while the room watches Sejanus spread the food over his friend, “I believe substance for a fallen comrade in his final journey. A district 2 superstition”.

“How did he get in there?” you question, never once tearing your eyes from the screen.

“I’ll work on finding the peacekeeper he bribed to let him in, and remove his tongue”, Dr Gual snarls, “in the meantime I need you to get him out right now”.

Dr Gaul looked directly at you which spiked Coriolanus heart rate,

“You should send Peacekeepers in”, he demanded. There was no way you were joining Sejanus in the arena.

“Only to have him bolt and hide like a rabbit?”, Dr Gaul retorts. “Fleix Ravenstill is fighting for his life in a hospital bed, Mr Snow. I will not have these rebels make a further mockery of my games. Anyone sees us lose control of this arena, it might as well be sounding a horn to the districts to revolt!”.

Dr Gaul takes a breath, trying to regain the composure lost. She turns her sight back on you, who had dropped Coriolanus' arm during her speech.

You stood brave, staring straight back at her with discontempt.

“You choose to be lovers with the radical. Don’t you want him out?”, Dr Gaul gages you.

Coriolanus steps forward trying to take Dr Gauls attention away from you.

‘‘Sending her into the arena will get her killed. It’ll look a lot worse if the tributes kill two Capitol students”, Coriolanus justifies.

“A volunteer then?”,Dr Gual pushes.

“I’ll go”, You say too quickly, “I can get him out”.

“I’ll go”, Coriolanus declares.

The mere thought of you in the arena left a sick feeling in his stomach. He wouldn’t watch helplessly on the other side of the screen while you risked your life for Sejanus.

He couldn’t believe Sejanus had put you in this position. Coriolanus’s every move was calculated with you in mind.

It was pure luck that you had chosen to seek Coriolanus out. If you hadn’t he would have woken the next morning to see you dead in the arena next to Sejanus.

He would go into the arena to save Sejanus if it meant saving you.

“No!” you protested, once again grabbing hold of Coriolanus arm to pull him back.

He turns to you with a look of irritation on his face.

“What chance do you think you stand if one of the tributes decide to attack? I am stronger, faster”, Coriolanus explained. He hated being irritated at you, but you wouldn’t see sense, “I’ll get him out, y/n. I promise”.

“Unless you are both secretly hoping he’ll die in that arena, we need to move fast”, Dr Gaul utters.

Her expression had changed from one of anger to quiet amusement, but she had not forgotten the task at hand.

She turns, expecting the children to follow her as she talks. Coriolanus follows suit, leading you as you wrap yourself around his arm.

He would have shaken you off. You had no place being even near the arena, let alone outside of its gates, but he loved the way you clung to him.

Your tight hold told him you would fight if he tried to leave you. Really it was the way you should be holding him. Not just now, in a state of emergency.

“I’ll freeze the feed for one hour”, Dr Gaul says as she moves out of the school, “I expect thats all the time we have until someone notices”.

A Peacekeeper van is waiting down the steps of the school. Dr Gaul jumps in, leaving the back of the van open for the children.

Coriolanus helps you up into the back of the van before lifting himself up behind you. The doors are closed shut as he enters, and the van takes off before he is fully sat next to you.

You are unusually quiet. Coriolanus could tell you were scared from the way you sat. Arms crossed across your chest, looking straight ahead of you with a glazed look.

Coriolanus places a hand on your knee in comfort but you don’t seem to register it.

He tries not to mind Dr Gauls' searing stare from the other bench. He focuses on you and your state of worry.

You begin to chew your lip absentmindedly. He wanted to pull it from between your teeth to get you to stop, but the van lurched forward as it stopped.

The drive wasn’t long, but the peacekeeper sped to it anyway.

As the doors are pulled open, Coriolanus takes a deep breath. There was no guarantee that he wouldn't be beaten to death by a tribute trying to save a man he loathed.

Grandma’am and Tigres wouldn’t survive without him, but if he died, he would at least make sure Sejanus died along with him.

If he couldn't have you, Sejanus definitely couldn’t.

“Lets go, Mr Snow”, Dr Gual urges.

She jumps out first. Coriolanus could hear her directing the Peacekeepers on what was about to happen.

You rise with Coriolanus. But He doesn’t allow you to get to the door as he does.

He jumps down and spins, placing his hand on the doors and bringing them closer together.

"Stay in the van”, he orders.

Surely, even on the off chance that a tribute managed to get through the gates, you would be safe in a locked van.

You nod your head in understanding, trying to ease his worry.

It doesn’t work but he appreciates it anyway.

He smiles up at you, taking the time to have a good look at you in case it was his last time.

With the doors shut on you, he could focus more clearly. He wasn’t going to die in that arena. He wasn’t going to die by a district hand.

He was going to get out alive. You were going to wake up to yourself and realise that you had been hopelessly in love with Coriolanus this whole time.

The gates are unlocked and he feels his confidence waver. Nevertheless, he persits with his mission and with a careful step he enters the arena.

It’s dark and quiet. The moonlight does little to help. A tribute could jump out at any time and Coriolanus would never see them coming.

He was cautious to make any sounds, stepping softly on the fragmented rocks.

The gate makes it stupid welcome message as he passes through it under the belief the game makers would have been smart enough to disable it.

His breath gets caught in his throat while waiting to see who it attracts. He doesn’t move.

He feels the blood rush to his ears, and his body ready itself to fight. No one comes.

Coriolanus’s eyes scan the room for whatever movement he could pick up on. It seemed there was none.

With a shaky breath he attempts to continue on, when his heightened ears pick up on a scuffle behind him.

He spins quickly, ready to dodge an attack. He wished it had been a tribute, and not you trying to climb over the turn stalls.

On its own accord, his face scrunches in anger. His footsteps are louder than he liked as he stormed over to you.

He takes your hips into what he was sure was a painful hold, and looks past you to see they had already locked the gate. You were now trapped in here with angry Tributes with nothing to lose.

Previously, he had never thought it possible to be angry with you. Now he wanted to scream in your face until you cried.

He helps you down, softly to the ground, and catches your hand harshly in his.

“You’re an idiot”, he whispers, “Stay close”.

He squeezes your fingers into the palm of his hand, but you make no complaint as you follow him into the arena.

Coriolanus felt his anxiety and senses heightened. He could faintly see Sejanus in the moonlight still knelt on the ground next to Marcus.

He felt you pull against his hold as you near Sejanus, but he refuses to let you go an inch.

If there was a tribute lurking he wanted to know where you were.

“Sejanus”, you whisper when you are within earshot.

He spins straight away upon hearing you. The panic he should have had all along, comes crashing all at once. He looked like a man who had seen a ghost as he rose from the floor.

‘What are you doing here?”, he questions in a strained, soft voice.

Sejanus takes your arms in his hands. Coriolanus wanted to yank you out of his hold, but a squabble would cause unnecessary attention.

“Get her out of here, Coryo”, Sejanus demands.

“I would like to. Believe me”, Coriolanus scolds. His eyes darted around the room, ensuring that all was still unnoticed.

“I am not leaving without you”, with your free hand you reach out to take a fist full of Sejanus shirt.

“I have to do this” Sejanus justifies, “I have to go where the cameras are”.

“You think anyone is watching this?” Coriolanus spat, taking a step closer to the couple, “Gaul cut the feed. Tributes kill you in here, she’s just going to say you died from the flu”.

“They won’t kill me”, Sejanus vows.

“Yes they will!” you reproach.

Maybe there was hope for you, Coriolanus thinks, Maybe Sejanus hadn’t brainwashed you fully.

The moonlight as it bounces off Lamina’s axe catches Coriolanus’s eye, and the safety net had now disappeared. She wouldn’t attack, but she could draw attention at any time.

“You need to decide right now”, Coriolanus demands, he breaks Sejanus' hold on you in case you need to run, and focuses Sejanus attention on himself, “do you want to fight these tributes or fight for them? Because if you want to make real change, you need to stay alive”.

“How can I make any change from out there?”, Sejanus discredits his power.

He was not worthy of his power if he had no brains on how to use it.

“You’re rich, smart. You care. You stood up to Gaul in that class, didn’t you? Spend your fathers money, do some real good”, a clash of the metal resounds in the arena. More would wake from the noise, and the group wouldn’t stand a chance.

“We’re dead. Y/n’s dead if we don’t leave right now”, Coriolanus reprimand, “Come with us, or just be another body in Gaul’s war”.

He knew he would have to fight to get you to leave Sejanus. But he was only allowing a few more seconds before he raced you to the exit.

Worried that you would get yourself killed in the struggle to save Sejanus, Coriolanus turns to begging as a last resort.

Placing a hand on Sejanus' shoulder, he brings the delusional boy closer.

“Please, Sejanus. We’re friends. Trust me”, Coriolanus pleaded.

You tug on Sejanus' shirt to move, “Come” you implore.

His large, dirty palm goes over your hand, “Alright”, he whispers.

The attack came at the perfect time. Coriolanus heard the shuffling of the boys shoes giving him time to pull you back towards the exit, before the war cry resounded through the arena.

“Go, Run!” he demands, pushing you ahead of him.

You sprint as fast as you can across the broken floor. Coriolanus caught up easily, pushing you forward urging you to move faster.

Sejanus lagged behind, choosing to look at the fast approaching tribute.

“Go! Go!” Coriolanus yells at you when you turn around to see where Sejanus was.

You don’t look back again, until you reach the turn stalls.

Coriolanus jumps over with ease, turning back to help you over. You stumble as your foot gets stuck on the rusty metal turn, and Coriolanus drags you over it as fast as he could.

His hand takes a hold of yours once more as Sejanus approaches the stand with the tribute hot on his heels.

He runs forward with you, eager to get you to safety beyond the gates.

Sejanus screams as he stumbles over the hard metal and you halt your quick pace to safety.

You call for him, trying to tug your hand out of Coriolanus’s. He resists, trying to get you to leave Sejanus.

Coriolanus promises to go back for him once you were beyond the gates but you wouldn’t have it.

He drops your hand, rathering his own life to be in danger for Sejanus than yours.

Coriolanus reaches Sejanus quicker than you do, and yanks him off the ground.

‘Come on, get up!”Sejanus tries to regain his feet but his knee refuses to take any weight, “y/n, get to the gate!”, Coriolanus commands.

You don’t turn, running towards Sejanus instead of away. You take his other arm over your shoulder, trying to assist Coriolanus.

The screaming of the tribute came closer, and before Coriolanus could move, the sharp edge of a blade hacked into his shoulder. It was a far swing from the tribute but with enough force to split skin.

He drops Sejanus to dodge the next attack. You fall into the wall, unable to support Sejanus by yourself.

The tribute now closer, stalks over to you with his sword held high. Sejanus tries a feeble attempt to shield you, but Coriolanus takes hold of a metal ruin that was stuck between cement, determined that not one hair on your head would be touched.

He scrambles off the ground and swings the cement at the tribute with a loud scream.

The young boy stumbles off balance, but readies himself again. He swung back with the blade which Coriolanus narrowly missed before bringing the cement down across the boy's head.

It lands him on the ground, but Coriolanus doesn’t stop there, bringing it down once more on the boy who threatened his girl

“Coriolanus!” you call to him. More tributes were coming out of the shadows.

He drops his weapon, going back over to you to help lift the weight of Sejanus.

Sejanus pushes through the pain to quicken the pace of the shuffle, but comotion had inlived the most dangerous pack. Corals groups hooped and hollered as they approached.

“Y/n, open the gate!”, Coriolanus demands, wanting you to be first out.

Sejanus drops his arm from your shoulder, and you take the permission to take off ahead and bang on the gate until it opens.

Coriolanus could hear the tributes as they run. They weren’t far off. He wasn’t sure they would even make it to the gate in time, but you would and that’s what matters.

You push yourself out with the gate as it opens, turning back to look at the boys with wide, fearful eyes.

Coriolanus pushes himself to be faster, taking nearly all of Sejanus' weight onto him.

They make it just in time, and fall to a heap on the floor next to Peacekeepers boots.

Corioanus pushes Sejanus off him. His hand reaches for his shoulder that now weeped blood.

He groans as he feels the ache of the gash, next to his still searing burn mark.

He is distracted momentarily when Coral reaches the gate, and throws her spear into it.

“Keep your eyes on the screen, gorgeous”, she taunts Coriolaus, throwing her head in the direction of you, “ I may have missed her tonight, but your songbirds next on my list”.

The Peacekeepers demand that her group get back and the tributes disappear back into the dark tunnel.

He had followed Corals gaze to you on the floor. Your tears run down your cheeks now that the adrenaline is gone.

Coriolanus moves to get you off the floor and into his arms, but you move as he does, and crawl across the floor to where Sejanus lay.

You wrap your arms around his neck and sob into him.

“I am okay”, he promises. His large hand rubs soothing circles on your back.

You pull back in anger and begin hitting his chest as you speak.

“How could you?”, you reprimand, “how could you do that?”.

“I am sorry, I had to do something”. Sejanus winces as he tries to sit up. His knee no doubt, completely ruined.

“You could have been killed”, you cry with a push against his attempted hold.

Was this the end of the bleeding heart couple? Coriolanus felt a spark of joy, watching as you fought.

“Coriolanus could have died!”, as if you had forgotten about him you now turn to him, ‘Oh, Coriolanus”, you cry, “Are you okay?”.

Coriolanus hand went back to his shoulder, feeling the wet patch of blood soak through his school jacket. He had no other uniform, even Tigres wouldn't be able to fix it.

“Coryo, I am so sorry”, Sejanus apologies. It meant nothing to Coriolanus who ignored him.

A car screeches to a stop and two car doors slam.

The car is sleek and expensive with its own full time driver waiting with the lights on.

Next to it stood Ma and Mr Plinth, who were well dressed as always.

Ma was crying, but Mr Plinth stood stoic and angry.

He gave Coriolanus a thankful nod but remained far away expecting his son to come to him.

Ma runs over to her baby, wrapping herself around her sons head.

Coriolanus takes the opportunity to move closer to you. You stand upon seeing him approach.

“Are you alright?’, he questioned.

You reach up, taking his neck and bringing him down into a hug. He gratefully goes, never expecting a hug before the relationship began.

“Thank you, Coriolanus. I would have died in there”, you muttered.

The hug is too short, before he is ready you are pulling away to look at his shoulder.

“Coriolanus needs help!’, you announce, “Somebody needs to take him to the hospital!”.

“Come with me”, he begs you.

“Don’t worry, Miss y/n. I’ll take care of our hero here”, Dr Gaul inserts herself where she is not wanted once more. She looked amused at Coriolanus’s physical and emotional pain.

“Y/n, baby”, Sejanus calls to you. The driver had left the car to assist Sejanus while his father looks on.

Coriolanus reluctantly lets go as you move to the sound of your name.

“You’ll look after him?”, you question Dr Gaul. Coriolanus wanted to beg you not to believe her.

“He’ll be good as new. You have my word”, Dr Gaul promises.

He shutters as you move further back.

Mr Plinth does not cross for his son, but he crosses to come collect you.

He wraps an arm around your shoulder to lead you to the car.

You look back at Coriolanus as you are led. Taking one final glance before entering the car with Sejanus.

Coriolanus watches as the car takes off. He wondered if you had your arms wrapped around Sejanus in the back.

He decides it is best not to submit his body to further stress and pushes it out of his mind. The walk home would help him clear his head, and focus only on the positives of the night. You relied on him tonight. Even acknowledged that he had saved your life. That was a step in the right direction.

“And where do you think you are going, Mr Snow”, Dr Gaul calls out after him.

“Home”, he announces over his good shoulder.

‘And make a liar out of me?” she walks in the opposite direction towards the Peacekeeper van, “Come”.

The ride back is silent. The same hurry to get there was not offered on the way back. Coriolanus shoulder ached, the blood would not stop pouring, sticking his shirt to his back and irritating his wound.

Dr gaul doesn’t speak again until they are back in her lab.

He couldn’t believe she had taken him back to her experimental freak show instead of a hospital. But he was in pain and in need of medical care so he didn’t verbalize his complaints.

“How did it feel?” she asks as she readies her station for him, “when you killed the boy to save y/n?”.

He should have known she was watching.

‘I didn’t have a choice”, he spat as he unbuttoned his shirt and took a seat in front of her.

She laughs at him as she begins her first stitch.

“All your fine manners, education, background, stripped away in a blink of an eye. Fueled with the terror of becoming prey, how fast we become predators".

Coriolanus lets out a shaky breath as the adrenaline dies down and the needle stitches him together.

“Who would have thought that one day Crassus Snow’s boy would be fighting for his life in the area over a girl?”, he feels her stop stitching while she waits for the answer to her next question, “That's why you did it no? It wasn’t until news of her involvement that you volunteered. Or did you still wish to proceed with the guise of friendship?”

“Sejanus is not my friend”, Coriolanus declares.

Her needle work began again, pleased with his answer.

“You want to protect y/n, Mr Snow? Then it’s essential that you accept what human beings are, and what it takes to control them”.

He feels her knot the thread into his skin

“So I’ll ask you again, when you beat that boy to death with a club, how did it feel?”.

“It felt”, Coriolanus breathed, wondering if he should give the honest answer. Deciding he had nothing to lose from it, he answers.

“It felt powerful”.

“Answer this next one honestly and you won’t have to walk home”, Dr Gaul teases, “Were you hoping that Sejanus died tonight?”

“Yes”, Coriolanus croaks. His own tears welling in his eyes. He refuses to let any more than two fall, which are wiped away harshly.

“How did it feel to have her life in your hands tonight?”, Dr Gaul pushes.

Coriolanus nods, unable to form words.

A hand is placed on his good shoulder. She squeezes to let him know the sincerity of her words.

“People will do anything to survive, Mr Snow. It doesn’t matter how miserable of an existence it is”.

Coriolanus thinks to his bare apartment, and cinder block bed. It was true, and he was living proof.

Survival meant hope.

He closes his eyes, feeling more tears forming and remembers how malleable you were tonight. You trusted him wholly with your survival, and with that came power over you.

Lucy-Gray was the same. Tonight you showed him the same loyalty, and respect that you had denied him previously.

Lucy-Gray had tried to kiss him, and you melded your body to him when you could. He was sure if you were alone, you would have kissed him for saving your life.

If only he could trap you as easily as Lucy-gray. Keep you in a state of panic that rendered you totally dependent on him.

He lets out a low, breathy laugh, remembering Dean Highbottoms words.

Maybe the old man could see more than Coriolanus would like.

Despite the pain in his shoulder and his little sleep, Coriolanus arrived back at the auditorium bright and early.

Lucy-Gray was still alive. He could see her sleeping against a pole next to Jessup.

The dead tribute was noticed, but soon forgotten. Only Lysistrata pushed to know more, but she too dropped the subject as the tributes began to wake and fight.

There were ten tributes left. Not an impossible task for Lucy-Gray to outlive them all.

He kept careful watch of the screens. While the rest of the mentors took lunch, and socialized, Coriolanus sat with his head in his hand, hoping for a split second of screen time that told him Lucy-Gray was okay.

“Coriolanus!”. Your voice shocked him as it appeared.

He stood to greet you. It was a welcomed but unexpected visit. The games were announced a public holiday, you had no obligation to be at school.

He would have thought after last night that you would be glued to Sejanus’s side. Was this the beginning of the end?

“Y/n, what are you doing here?”, he questioned.

In the daylight he could see a bruise on your temple from when toppled into the wall, under Sejanus. He reaches out to run his finger across the black spot, and you hit his hand away.

“What are you doing here?”, you push back with a hard tone “I went to your house to check on you, but Tigres said you were here?”.

Coriolanus felt his body twitch at your words. You went to his run down apartment? How much did you see? Surely, Tigres shielded his shame. Your eyes didn’t carry pity, maybe you didn’t know.

“Don’t you ever go to my apartment without my permission again”, he scolded.

That was close. Too close. He was days from getting the plinth prize. Days from burying his decade long shame.

You seemed drawn back at his harsh tone. He had never spoken to you unkindly before.

In an effort to ease the mood once more, before you left, he threw his hands up as if it wasn’t a big deal.

“My Grandmother has severe social anxiety. We can’t have unexpected visitors”, he lies with a soft and airy tone.

“Oh, I am sorry. I didn’t know”, you offer.

Coriolanus tuts, bringing his hand up once more to brush the hair off your bruise.

“You shouldn’t have been in there”, he complains.

The bruise looked painful. He was sure it would cause you a headache. You should be resting with ice upon it, not here talking to him.

“No one should be in there”, you return.

His hand is pushed away again, but he attributes it being too soft to touch, rather than disdain for him touching you.

"Thank you for checking on me”, he says.

“You shouldn’t be here, Coriolanus. Not after last night”.

“Lucy-Gray needs me”, he observes.

Your eyes flick to the screen behind him, before back to Coriolanus’s eyes and nod in agreement.

“Sejanus is in the hospital. They have him on morphline. His knee will never work fully, but he is alive and that's because of you”, you proclaim, “Lucy-Gray is fortunate to have you looking out for her. We all are”.

His heart flutters. ‘We all are’, yes! Yes! You were lucky to have him looking out for you. Have you finally come to appreciate all he does for you?

He smiles down at you. If his shoulder didn’t ache, he would have reached out for you.

“If there’s anything I can do”, you offer.

“There is!” He responds too quickly.

He clears his throat, trying to conceal his eagerness.

“There is”, repeats more even toned, “You could stay. I could use the support”.

You looked unsure of the request, but he had saved your life just hours prior, so you felt an obligation to do as he asked.

“Sure, Coriolanus”, you finally say, although you still looked unsure, “I can stay for a little bit”.

He could barely breathe. The “great” he manages to get out is hardly above a whisper.

He leads you to the front bench just in front of the first row of mentor chairs.

You sit obediently and he takes his new seat in front of you.

The tributes have become more lively. Coral was on the hunt for Lucy-Gray trying to convince one of her group members to go down and flush her out.

None would so they go back to making traps to catch Reaper.

Coriolanus reaches his hand back to you, trying to see how far his luck would take him.

You do take his hand into your own, but only for the time it took to give him three encouraging pats to the back of his hand.

It was close enough. Leaving Coriolanus with a feeling of satisfaction.

The feeling stayed for less than a second. His good mood disappeared when the camera flew back to Lucy-Gray underground.

Jessup was getting agitated. Yelling at Lucy-Gray and twitching uncontrollably.

“What’s he doing?”Coriolanus jumps out of his chair and moves closer to the screens.

“They’re friends. He wouldn’t hurt her”, you comment, coming up beside him.

“Somethings wrong”, Lysistrata agrees, “He wouldn’t turn on her like this”.

Lucy-Gray makes a mad dash away which only further angers Jessup, determined that he had done something.

Coriolanus watches in panic. Lucy-gray couldn't defend herself. She would never hurt Jessup, even in his mad state.

“Go to the stands, go to the stands!”, he directs.

Lucy-gray does go to the stands, climbing up as fast as she could but Jessup was determined to catch her.

Coriolanus couldn’t watch. He turns and paces, trying to figure out a way to save Lucy-Gray.

It couldn’t be over. You had only just come around, he needed more time.

The camera zooms in on Jessup allowing full view of the white form dripping down his lips.

‘Wait, look”, he tells you.

Your hand balls at your mouth. He hated to see you so frightened yet again.

As soon as this was all over, he would ensure nothing would ever worry you again.

“I think it rabies," he announces.

He could have danced. There was a way out of this mess. The game wasn’t over yet.

“That bite from the train”, Lysistrata deducts.

“Send him water”. He demands of Lysistrata.

“What? No”, she denines.

He leans across her desk so she is forced to look at him. He was half tempted to just take control of her computer himself.

“You remember the posters from the war. Rabies. It makes you scared of water. Send him a drone”, he demanded.

“That’ll scare him”.

He knew Livy had come to care for Jessup

“Yes” Coriolanus agrees in a hard tone, “away from her”.

Lysistrata still looked in denial. There was no other option, both their tributes didn’t have to die.

“Jessup is done”, he says with haste, “Livy, you’re the only one that can get it right to him”.

Coming to grips with reality, Livy does as she is told, sending a water drone in the direction of Jessup.

“Thank you”, Coriolanus feels better watching the drone fly in.

“Nothing to be proud of”, Livy mutters.

As planned, the drone smashes into him just as he reaches Lucy-gray.

He hears you gasp as Jessup falls to his death and hits the bottom with a heavy thud.

He turns to see you still with your hand pressed tightly against your mouth, and eyes squeezed shut.

The sight makes him feel horrible that he had asked you to stay.

You were on the side of his sore shoulder so he had to reach across with his good hand to touch you.

“Coryo”, Livy called as Carol’s group came out of hiding.

The hand on you balls watching as Corals group surrounds Lucy-gray.

“Oh no”, he complains.

He needed to make a distraction, so she could run and hide. He couldn’t just stand and watch. But the only thing he could do was send food and water in on badly operated drones.

The same badly operated drones that just took Jessup out.

He reaches for his communipad, and selects as many bottles of water as it would let him.

He didn’t need to kill the group. Only give Lucy-Gray a chance to get away

The drones go flying in. He hoped Lucy-Gray wouldn’t give the surprise away, but she managed to keep her cool until it was time to duck.

“Hey! You can’t attack the tributes” a fellow mentor complained.

“I am just sending water”, Coriolanus jeered.

He could hear your chuckle of approval behind him. You reach out to his good shoulder and murmur in his ear.

“Good work”, you encouraged.

He wished he could have stayed in the moment but it wasn’t over yet. Lucy-gray disappears into the dust, taking with her a bottle of water.

She hides in the shelter of the ruin and he can faintly see her take something from her dress pocket.

No there, he wanted to say. What if someone saw her poison the water and he was disquailified.

He looks around the room to check no one else is noticing. All eyes seemed to be on the group turning against Lamina.

Lucy-Gray ducks back out with the water, placing it back on the ground before emptying the others collected. It wasn’t a bad idea.

Lamina's death stopped the clock and the attention was once more turned back to Lucy-gray.

“Go” you mutter, flicking your hands out as if she could see.

Lucy-Gray takes off with Coral and her group chasing her back up the stands. She finds an air duct and dives to close it in time.

Coral catches it before it fully closes and it begins a tug of war against the two.

“No, No”, you complain.

He wanted to shield your eyes from the screen. With every inch Coral got, Lucy-Gray found the strength to tug it back.

When it finally closes, sealing Lucy-gray in safety, Coriolanus lets out a sigh of relief.

“She’s Okay” he says to you.

Coral takes out another tribute over a squabble over the water, and Dill drinks the poisoned water.

So that was three dead tributes in less than 20 minutes. With this pace Coriolanus would be announced winner before the night ended.

He sat you back down on your seat, and retook his in front of you. Your fingers cling to the bench underneath you, and your posture is tight and unnatural.

He expects you to leave him, but you remain watching as Reaper collects the fallen tributes into a neat line and draps the Panam flag over him.

“Are you going to punish me now?” reaper yells to the cameras.

He begins to scream again but his words are cut off by a broadcast from Dr Gaul.

“Capitol Citizens, I’m afraid I must interrupt our games to announce a tragic loss. Fleix Ravienstill, son of our beloved president, has this morning succumbed to his injuries sustained in the rebel bombing.Out there, in the districts, they will be celebrating this young boys death. I will not allow my games to give our enemies such a victory. I swear to you here and now, before the sun goes down tonight, a rainbow of destruction will engulf our arena. Even if it means there’s to be no victor in these games”.

The broadcast ends, and the tributes go back on screen.

“What?” you spit, “What does she mean no victor? That's not fair. She can't do that”.

You rise from your outrage, ranting to Coriolanus. Your anxiety has been taken over by your anger. Coriolanus agreed it was not fair. All his hard work gone down the drain because of the death of Felix, who was never going to amount to anything anyway.

A rainbow of destruction. The snakes. There was no way he could protect lucy-Gray from them.

He would need something with her scent. Could he get the string of her guitar that she played in the interviews? He didn’t even know where it was. By the time he found it, the Games were sure to be over.

Maybe, he could go to the zoo. Toss as many things as he could into the snake pit and hope one of them was hers? It might mean the survival of everyone but her too.

The zoo, he remembers. He digs into his breast pocket to pull out the handkerchief he used to wipe her tears away. If the sweat of his palm can keep him safe against the snakes, then surely her fresh tears dried on the handkerchief could.

He had to get it to the lab before it was too late.

He grabs your forearms and turns you away from the screen to him so he had your full attention.

“Stay here, okay. I’ll be right back”. He commands.

“Where are you going?”, you ask astounded that he could be leaving after such news.

“Just stay here. Don’t move”, he reiterated.

You nod sensing his urgency and he dashes out of the auditorium into the empty hallway.

He knew he couldn’t walk into Dr Guals lab without a reason, and begging for Lucy-Grays life wasn’t a good one.

As he jogs down the steps, he claws at the stitches in his back, reopening the wound.

He groans from the pain but ensures all eight stitches have torn open.

His body is weak as he sprints to Dr gauls lab. It barely gets him through the front door, where he demands to see Dr gaul.

As if she was expecting him, the Peacekeeper lets him directly through.

“Come to beg for her life?” Dr gaul asks uninterested.

“No” Coriolanus puffs, “No, my stitches. They came loose. I didn’t want the doctors asking questions”.

She looks at him suspiciously but relents, going to her work table.

“Come, pull down your shirt”, she directs.

He walks past a row of black birds locked in cages. Her newest toys.

“The news must have shocked you Mr Snow. With no tributes, no victor, with no victor, no girl”.

Coriolanus faces the birds as Dr Gaul stitches the needle into his shoulder. He eyes the large snake tank in the corner and the people who ready it for transport.

“Y/n’s actually at the auditorium. She came to support me. She’s the one who noticed the stitches”, Coriolanus lies.

“Support you and not her boyfriend in hospital? Things are looking promising”, she says.

"Looking promising, looking promising” her voice echoes across the room. Seemingly from the mouth of the birds.

She sighs and stops stitching to click a receiver.

“Jabberjays”, she explained, “We sent them out during the war to pick up rebel conversations. A failed experiment. They only pick up useless phrases unless manually operated. I am collecting them to see what better purpose they serve”.

Coriolanus remains quiet trying to figure out how he could reach the cage before it was too late.

The needle knots in his back, a feeling Coriolanus had come to know to mean that the stitching was done.

“I’ll see you and your girl back in the auditorium for the finale, Mr Snow”, Dr Gaul dismisses, “you should be proud of yourself. Your songbird put on a wonderful show, and you didn’t need money to steal the girl after all”.

Coriolanus quickly buttons up his shirt, watching as the cage was wheeled out.

“Thank you, Dr Gaul”, he says.

He races to catch up to the assistants wheeling the cage, pretending to be following them out.

They don’t see him as a threat so pay him no mind. He falls back as they take a hallway just off the exit, and watches as they leave the cage out for an airlift.

He stays hidden behind a pole until it was time. Leaving his jacket to keep the door wedged open. With their back turned, he dashes out to cage. The snakes are upset when he slams into the large cage, beginning to move and fight with each other.

He finds an air hole large enough and stuffs the handkerchief in. it moves along the bodies of the snakes until Coriolanus could no longer see the white in between the rainbow.

When the harness is lowered, Coriolanus makes a run back to the door, taking his jacket and making his own exit from the Citadel.

He pays for the taxi this time. Sure that his body couldn’t take anymore strain.

It cost him his fathers watch, but he arrived back in the auditorium before the entrance of the snakes.

“What happened?” he quizzes you, taking a hold of your arm, “Lucy-gray is she okay?”.

You point to the screen where Coral and Treech poke and prod a vent.

“She’s in there”, you address with horror in your voice.

Treech points up and Coral takes his palace directly under the vent.

Blocking the camera, Treech begins to sway of balance and nose begins leek small amounts of blood.

“Wait, what's wrong with Treech?” his mentor asks.

Corilanious was worried about his own tribute, who was three lucky strikes away from being impaled.

Coral hits the metal too many times and the vent collapses on top of her.

Coriolanus' hand latches out to yours, which you accept with the same nervous tension in your fingers.

“Run, run” Coriolanus begs.

She runs back into the arena. Not the safest place with reaper still sitting by the dead tributes.

Coral chases after her, too slow to catch up.

The whole arena stops when the chopper lowers in the cage.

“Please work”, Coriolanus whispers.

“What is that?” you ask.

“Wouldn’t it be fun if it was candy?” Lucy Flickerman answers you.

Coriolanus feels your hand tense in his, then open in surprise when the glass cage cracks and the snakes fly out.

“Not candy!” Lucky Flickerman announces as three tributes are overtaken in rainbow.

The Snakes chase the last two tribute who head to the stands for higher ground.

“Lucy-Gray, please” Coral begs. The snakes lash at her heels as she tries to drag herself up the stands, “Please it couldn’t have all be for nothing”.

It was. More snakes latch on and Coral dies with two loud screams.

“Now all colors lead to Gray” Lucy Flickerman narrates.

The snakes slither up and around Lucy-Gray but none bite her.

Coriolanus lets out an unbelievable scoff.

‘She’s..She’s won” he says watching as the snakes continue to follow Lucy-Gray. He had won. The 10th annual victor. She was last standing, even Dean Highbottom couldn’t contest his win.

“It’a over. She won”, he says in a louder voice. Why was no one doing anything to stop the snakes, “Let her out!”

“Afraid that’s not your call to make, mr Snow”, Lucky insists.

He turns to the audience. Dr Gaul had come to see the final show. She sat high up in the breeches and must of come in when Coriolanus was distracted.

He drops your hand so he could turn and face her. She stared back with the same hateful and curious gaze. She knew what he had done.

But if she squealed on him, he would return the favor.

Your hands fly up to your face once more when Lucy-gray begins to sing. Tears pour from your eyes watching the young girl sing her last song.

Looking to get away from the camera that played on your pain, you pushed your way to the back.

“Dr gaul. She’s won”, Coriolanus yells, “It’s over let her out”.

“Why aren’t they attacking her?” Festus asks.

Dr Gual raises her eyebrows at him in a mocking fashion.

“It must be the signing. It’s calming them”, he deceives.

“She can’t sing forever”, Festus comments bitterly.

She just needs to sing long enough for Coriolanus to figure out a way to get her out.

“Dr Gaul, please”, Coriolanus tries, “Get her out”.

He could see the audience engrossed in the scene. He just needed to figure out how to turn it against Dr Gaul.

“Get her out!”, you yell across the room, following Coriolanus stare to Dr gaul.

Her eyes flick to you and you scream at her once more to release Lucy-gray.

Others join, chanting in protest.

“Who will watch the games if there is no victor?” he threatens.

Dr Gaul raises her hand to silence the audience, before turning to her assistant.

“Get her out”, she says loud enough for everyone to hear.

A cheer erupts the auditorium and Dr gaul wades herself through it to the silence of the hallway.

“She’s won! Lucy-Gray! Coriolanus Snow is the winner of the tenth annual Hunger games!” Lucky announces.

People rush from the stands to swarm him. Offering him congratulations and applause.

It all felt real now. He had done it. The plinth prize, you, were all his now.

He pushes to the crowd to get to where you stood in front of the bleaches.

You were smiling and clapping. He wasn’t sure if it was entirely for him, or if you were just glad Lucy-gray would live.

You looked beautiful and for once Sejanus was nowhere by your side. In this moment, you were entirely his.

You treated you as such, taking your face between his hands and stilling you for a kiss.

His lips smashed against you, his teeth nipped at the skin of your bottom lip asking you to part them for him.

You don’t pull away at first, but his lips are on you for less than ten seconds before you are shoving against his sore shoulder.

He is forced to drop his hand upon the impact. His shoulder ached from pain of being moved, and on reflux he lowered his arm to ease it.

Coriolanus could tell by the look on your face, you did not enjoy the kiss. Did he come on too strong? Did he accidently hit your bruise when he kissed you?

He opened his mouth to apologize for the above, but you took off before he could catch you.

It was impossible to follow you through the crowd of people. People would not part to let him through.

Some jeered at him for being pushed away but most still rode his victory wave.

Had he made a mistake? Where you not ready to leave Sejanus for him yet?

You had no right to reject him. He had won. Saved your life. Risked his own.

Coriolanus took a seat while the crowd surrounded him, and then disappeared. He stayed there until he was summoned by a peacekeeper much later.

He figured he was to see his victor before they sent her back home. The Peacekeeper led him to a chamber, but Lucy-Gray was nowhere to be seen.

“Lucy-Gray?” he called, “Lucy-Gray?”.

He sees a table in the middle of the room with his fathers handkerchief and his mother compact.

“To think, Mr Snow, you almost had it all” Dean Highbottom's voice taunts him.

“Where’s Lucy-Gray?”Coriolanus demanded. Had they hurt her for Coriolanus’s mistake?

“I would be more worried about yourself” Highbottom answered, stalking towards him.

“First y/n rejects you and now the prize money slips through your fingers”, Highbottom torments, “it’s fitting that both your parents could be here for your big moment”.

He gestures to the items on the table in front of Coriolanus.

“That compact, how many times did I see your mother use it? Come now, we both know that child from eleven didn’t die of disease. And that old handkerchief, we found it in the snake tank, condemning you with your fathers own initials”.

Highbottom rounds Coriolanus completely before standing in front of Coriolanus across the table.

“President Ravenstill has left your form of punishment up to me, and I’ve decided banishment to the districts where you’ll serve your Capitol in exile for the next twenty years as an anonymous, peacekeeping grunt”.

Dean Highbottom grins at Coriolanus who felt too frozen to do anything.

“You’ll never get your hands on y/n. She’s too good for you Mr Snow. By the time you get back I imagine her and Sejanus will be married with three or four children”.

It was true. Coriolanus wouldn’t be able to block the ongoing turn of events that was sure to happen with Sejanus. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t how things were supposed to go. He had worked so hard to have you, only to be taken away as soon as he got on equal footing with Sejanus.

“You hear that boy? That’s the sound of snow failing”, Highbottom proclaims.

He’ll be left with nothing more than a memory of you, while you will forget completely of the man who loved you so.

#coriolanus snow #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #dark!coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #commander snow #dead dove do not eat

57 notes · View notes

rhiannonsknife · 4 hours ago

Note

https://x.com/femmeflix/status/1852896350481825792?s=46&t=PsXAfTCJv59FchQIdn66aA

I’ve been obsessed with Jackie/your Jackie fics and thoughts lately.

This with Jackie in the wilderness though..? Maybe an AU where she never died and find excuses to keep you “warm at night” in winter? You’re in the farthest corner of the cabin when she starts grinding against you softly. The others are asleep but you still have to be quiet, silently sighing into the other’s mouth as you get each other off…

-🪩

thank you 🪩 anon!! i probably added way too much background lore, but i hope this is what you had in mind <3 nsfw below so: mdni!

i feel like, unlike shauna, jackie would not be so in denial about how touch starved she is. i think she’s well aware that she needs somebody’s comfort, yet ever since doomcoming, she and shauna have not spoken properly and she won’t even look in travis’ direction.

it wasn’t just the betrayal itself, you think, without ever saying it out loud, it was the audacity of it. now, every time jackie glanced at shauna, all she could see was the life she used to have, the life she had taken away piece by piece: her boyfriend, her best friend, her sense of control. nobody is ever calling it by name in spite of the elephant (shauna’s bump) in the room.

jackie hadn’t acknowledged the pregnancy out loud, yet the unspoken tension hangs in the air whenever they are forced to share space, impacting all of you.

the more time passes, the colder everyone gets.

except for tai and van, the rest of the team has sort of neglected the need for physical touch and closeness. without anyone around that you’d be comfortable enough with to ask for a simple hug, you try to do the same as everyone else. only at night, with the others fast asleep, you ever dare to wrap your arms around yourself, picturing it’s someone else holding you.

you won’t let it show to the others, though, not wanting to be the first to break under the current circumstances.

turns out you don’t have to wait too long for someone else to be in a similar position: jackie had been the one to lose it from the start. sure, you’d all been terrified, but out of all the girls, jackie had been the most stubborn when it came to her chores out here.

she’d always been the one least likely to adapt to any of this: to the wilderness, to the cold, to the isolation that gnawed at all of you. she wasn’t built for this life, and everyone knew it, including her. but jackie wasn’t one to let people see her break easily: the same jackie who once thrived on attention now barely spoke, her haughty attitude replaced by something more brittle.

it had only been a matter of time before this facade cracked.

you’d seen her unraveling slowly. the way she avoided shauna, the way she avoided everyone, really. how she snapped at taissa for trying to delegate chores or rolled her eyes at nat’s attempts to hunt. she’s so desperate to seem untouchable, but it is clear to you that jackie’s just lost. and hurt.

and then came the nightmares, too.

you start to wake at night to the sound of her gasping, a sharp cry muffled into the blanket she clutches around her. she must’ve shot up, her breaths coming fast and shallow, and for a moment, you think she might wake everyone else. but the others keep sleeping, too used to the sounds of restless nights to stir. that’s how it starts because you -unsure of what else to do- only reach out and put a hand on her shoulder. jackie flinches, not expecting anyone else to be up at this time. you two never talk about it afterwards but you feel the way she instantly melts into your touch.

that small gesture is what makes you realize how much you’ve missed being close to another person.

after this, it is like a switch has been flipped: jackie is fixated on always lingering in your presence, eager for any kind of touch she can get, whether it’s a brush of hands, her palm to your back, or sitting shoulder to shoulder. she even picks up certain chores just to be near you. whether it is a desperate attempt for proximity and closeness or a real crush that’ll keep on growing beyond this place where you’re stuck, it feels nice to be wanted like this.

one of these nights, with the cabin quiet and the air heavy with the sound of soft snores and the occasional crackle of the dying fire, jackie takes things one step further.

everyone else is huddled together for warmth, but in the farthest corner of the room, it’s just you. or at least it was, until jackie had slipped down beside you, her breath visible in the freezing air as she sits close -closer than she needs to.

she whispers, careful not to wake the others, “it’s freezing. you’re practically an icicle over here,“ she hesitates, her hands tugging at her blanket as if trying to decide what to say next. after another moment, she ventures, “i don’t know how you’re even handling it. i feel like my fingers might fall off any second”

her eyes flicker to yours, searching for something. permission, maybe, to come even closer than she already is. “you know,” she says lightly, almost offhand, “it’d probably be warmer if we shared. not that anyone would care… or even notice.”

she doesn’t press it further, leaving the idea hanging between you. sure, the two of you have shared your moments before, but you certainly hadn’t spent the night cuddling yet.

the silence stretches out, her gaze darting to yours again, waiting for any sign. and then you shift, just a little, leaning closer, not quite touching but enough to give her what she needs. the corner of her mouth twitches, and without a word, she slides her blanket open, wrapping it around the both of you as she settles closer.

jackie voice is barely above a whisper, the words brushing against your ear. “this is okay…right?”

you nod, softly, knowing she’ll see from where she’s curled up against you from behind. like this, the two of you lie in silence for a good while. you know jackie is awake still: you can feel the way she occasionally shifts, or how her breathing won’t still in a way that it would if she was asleep.

it’s strange, how natural this feels: being this close to someone, so comfortably tangled together after such a long time. a part of you had forgotten how it would feel. another part, the one that’s been falling in love with jackie taylor long before your plane crashed, longs to have her even closer and tries its very hardest not to allow your mind to wander…

jackie, on the other hand, hasn’t felt this close to any of the other girls either. without thinking, her hand moves of its own accord, around you to rest on your stomach. her fingers are cold, even through your layers of clothing. she brushes them lightly over your skin, the touch gentle. you audibly gulp, but let her.

after another moment, you are finally brave enough to shift. you lift yourself up and adjust until you’re facing her. jackie’s hand remains on the dip of your waist underneath the blanket.

your bodies are flush against each other, your breaths mingling in the sliver of air between you. jackie’s eyes widen a fraction as you turn, her hand instinctively tightening its grip on your waist. the shift in your position has brought you even closer together.

her hand slides further, fingertips tracing over the shape of your hip. “you’re still cold,” she murmurs, her voice low and hushed in the quiet cabin. her eyes rake over you, her gaze lingering over the curve of your lips.

“it is cold in here” you point out, shivering at the realization of her wandering eyes. jackie isn’t exactly subtle about it either. after all, there’s not much she’s ever wanted that she didn’t get.

her touch is moving from your hip down to the curve of your thigh. her fingers dance over the fabric of your pants underneath the blanket. she’s still fixated on your mouth, her breath hitching as she sees the way you shiver under her gaze.

jackie leans in a little closer when she feels the way your legs fall open under her hands, her lips nearly brushing against your ear as she whispers, “you know, i think i’ve got a few more ways i could help warm you up…” her hand moves again, sliding further up your thigh.

it’s pathetic, really. it’s a desperate attempt to cling to normality. to feel wanted in spite of everything. it’s a short moment in the terrors of the wilderness that she won’t speak about in the morning. but, fuck it, you’re willing to take it.

your breath hitches in your throat when jackie’s hand inches up your leg, a small noise slipping from your lips. immediately, jackie hushes you.

“sh” she says, eyes darting to where the others are fast asleep. “we have to be quiet” and with that, your last restraints are gone. it only confirms what jackie is up to right now -if it hadn’t been clear yet, it certainly is now. and while you know, rationally, that this is a bad idea, the need to feel someone’s touch is too strong for you to neglect it any longer: awkward attempts of trying to get off under the covers whilst everyone else sleeps are clearly not doing enough for you.

at least jackie seems to be on the same page.

you both shift and adjust against each other. it’s a little clumsy, and it takes a moment to find a good position, but it’s driven by the need for something you’ve both been craving, so you make it work. before you know it, jackie lingers above you in a way that has her center pressing against your own under the sheets.

she exhales a shuddered breath and your hands jump up to hold her hips. your eyes are wide as you stare up at her, partly in disbelief that this is happening, mostly because you can’t believe that jackie wants you like this.

jackie leans in, not kissing you yet, but with her arms bracing her weight on either side of your head, caging you in. her eyes are dark, her gaze flickering over your features in a way that makes your stomach flip.

beneath the covers, her legs shift, her body pushing further into yours, grinding against you for the first time, in a way that is deliberate and calculated. her breath stutters, her voice hoarse as she speaks, “you��ve gotta be-” she gasps, and bites her lip, resisting the moan that threatens to escape. “quiet”

oh, how you wish you could’ve met her under different circumstances. how you wish jackie could’ve wanted you like this all the way back home, so you could’ve heard the way she sounds when she’s moving on top of you.

when you finally come back to your senses, you decide to make the most of this opportunity. holding her hips a little tighter, you lift your own from the ground to meet her halfway.

jackie, who’s only ever known sex to be something merely mediocre, is surprised that grinding against you (fully clothed, and in a room full of sleeping people that prevent you from going all the way) is already better than anything she’s ever had.

she shivers as you take the initiative, matching her movements with a gasp that she barely manages to bite back. she arches into you, her body moving steadily now.

her hands slide up your sides, fingers slipping under the edge of your shirt to feel the warm skin of your stomach. she leans in, her breath a shaky, quiet: “god, yes…just like that…”

you can feel your own underwear, clinging to your arousal which is growing exponentially at this rate. there’s no way you’ll last long like this, not when you’re embarrassingly close to creaming your pants just from watching her. each of your movements is mirrored by one of hers, until you’ve found a good rhythm to grind against the other. at some point, jackie’s body goes slack and she drops forward. you instantly hold her to your chest as she keeps rutting against you, moaning the faintest little “ah, ah, ah” sounds into your ear.

the friction between you spikes, both of you desperate and greedy for more connection. your hips keep meeting in a slow, steady rhythm, both pushing and pulling each other into deeper contact.

her hands are still wandering over your body, exploring every inch of your skin she can reach through the clothing that’s supposed to keep you warm but is severely restricting right now.

she draws you closer, her mouth by your ear, her voice a low, husky whisper, “i want you…i want you so badly…” she whispers. whether jackie means it or not, it works on you.

“don’t stop” you tell her, rocking into her equally desperately. at this point you can only pray that no one will hear the creaking floor boards. the sheets are a tangled mess around the two of you, the covers having slipped down to her waist as the heat between you escalates.

“jackie” you whisper, hoping the urgency to your tone will get the message across. judging by the way she nods erratically, that seems to be the case.

“yeah” she says, bobbing her head still. “yeah, me too”

you, embarrassed as you are, cum first. it’s quiet, your lips parted in a silent scream as jackie’s constant rocking sends you stumbling over the edge you’ve been toeing since she began straddling you. she watches you fall apart beneath her, not once slowing down or stopping altogether, determined to make herself cum too.

her eyes flutter and she struggles to keep her breathing steady as her hold on you tightens. “don’t- don’t you dare stop-“ she hisses, your pleasure not yet ebbing by the time she follows. jackie is beautiful, obviously, but you’ve never seen something that could ever compare to her when she makes herself come against you: her head falls back and her eyes close tightly. she’s biting her lower lip so harshly she could be drawing blood for the sake of not being too loud.

finally, after her body has gone tense for a couple of seconds, jackie slumps against you. she’s panting right into your ear, unable to speak as her orgasm washes over her. you can feel her thighs trembling around yours as she recovers.

for a few moments, the only sound in the room is the ragged breathing of the two of you as the silence hangs heavy in the air. the cabin is quiet, the rest of the team blissfully unaware of what just happened a few feet away.

“holy shit” you finally breathe, unsure of what else to do or say. thankfully, jackie doesn’t move away like a part of you had anticipated. she stays right there, on top of you, giving you the courage to hesitantly wrap your arms around her and hold her to your chest.

if you don't move, you'll fall asleep like this and the others will have plenty of questions in the morning. still, neither of you has got the strength to get up, to move away from the heat you're providing. your eyes grow heavy before you know it. it's the first night of good sleep in a long time.

#jackie taylor Ღ #˙🔞 ̟ !! mdni #🪩 anon #jackie taylor x reader #jackie taylor x female reader #jackie taylor x fem!reader #jackie taylor x you #jackie taylor #yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #yellow jackets x female reader #yellow jackets x you

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foreverdolly · 8 months ago

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ೃ࿔ SAVAGE BONDS part 2 『 feyd rautha x atreides!reader 』

summary: destined to one another since conception, your very life belongs to feyd rautha. as a token of good will you are sent to the strange planet of giedi prime a week before your wedding ceremony, only to learn that it is far more hostile than you imagined it would be. a failed assassination attempt has tempers flaring and sparks flying when it is decided to be safer to sleep alongside feyd. you hate to admit it, but he has played the part of a "protector" better than the guards who were tasked to watch over you. whilst you have been dreading this union all of your life, feyd has been anticipating it. meeting you as children had left him awe-struck. . . and a bit obsessed.

warnings: !SMUT HEAVY IN FUTURE PARTS!, feyd is super overprotective in this fic and kills multiple people in your honor, blood and gore, it's a dark romance folks, political marriage, forced proximity, temporary unrequited love, a lil dubious consent in some scenes, there's a lot of talk about breeding, enemies to lovers (in your mind, not his), there's a "who did this to you" scene, knife play, blood kink, breeding kink heavy, lots of scent marking/marking.

word count: 4.5k

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Legs tangled in gray sheets. The lightning-quick flash of a silver dagger, held by a pale hand.

The images in the dream are more like fragments- impossible to discern and decipher. On the bed, asleep and vulnerable. . .

There’s you.

And then Feyd wakes up, heart hammering in his chest so hard he can feel it in his throat. Slowly his fingers crawl up, up, up the expanse of the bed in search of something. In search of warmth, of you. Nothing. He’s just as alone in his room as he was when he drifted off into sleep. He lays awake the rest of the night, tossing and turning with worry.

This dream felt more like a warning than just another disjointed nightmare. It felt real. He was used to having dreams every now and again which clearly depicted a future outcome. He saw you in his dreams quite often, more so once he was no longer a boy-child.

If someone thought to hurt you… he’d just have to hurt them first.

The customs you and your people practiced were completely different to those that were normal on Geidi Prime. You watched one of your ladies-in-waiting as she brought over another small bowl of sweet smelling bath salts, dumping it in and using her hand to properly dissolve them. For a moment you felt self conscious, running your fingers through your hair as you looked at their perfect complexions and shaved heads. What did they see when they looked at you? Someone beautiful and strange. . . or an alien?

Still, you would eventually have to disrobe and bathe. Pressing your luck and refusing their help would only solidify your place as an outsider. You were sure that whispers of your arrival were already spreading like wildfire, and it was almost guaranteed that no one was happy about it. An Atreides amongst Harkonnen’s? You were nothing more than a pariah on their industrial wasteland of a planet.

The air was even more acrid in your lungs than it had been the night before, and while the smell of the rose body oils and salts were thick and hazy in your room, you could still catch the scent of pollution. Already you missed the cool, crisp air of Caladan. You missed your horses, your parents and your brother to the point of pain. This was not where you belonged. Not here in Geidi Prime. Not here with Feyd-Rautha.

The urge to cry yourself hoarse was practically undeniable, and yet you somehow managed to resist. You were late to breakfast already, and surely the Baron was making some unsavory comments about your family and their taught “manners”. So you untied the front of your nightdress and shimmied out of it, letting the soft cotton pool at the ground beneath your feet. The women couldn’t help but gawk at the tiny imperfections they saw there- a beauty mark you’d had since you were a child, a scar you’d received while training with Gurney. You weren’t used to feeling so self conscious, and so you were quick to grab one of the women’s extended hands so that you could sit down in the murky bath water.

They rubbed floral smelling soaps into your hair and on your skin, making sure to handle you as though you were as fragile as porcelain. You wished they would scrub you raw. Even then they wouldn’t be able to cleanse you of your fears. You were in the hands of the Harkonnen’s now.

No one could save you.

“We are not very used to styling hair, my lady. It might not be to your liking.” One of the women said anxiously. The way that her hands shook as she gripped the hairbrush was not lost on you.

How cruelly were they treated here? Or even worse- what did she think of the Atreides family? What lies had they poisoned these people’s impressionable minds with? You didn’t care to dwell too much on such thoughts. Reaching out you gently removed the brush from her hands, flashing her the kindest smile you could muster before shaking your head.

“Leave this to me then. Why don’t you pick something for me to wear from my things?” Your bags were still packed, lying exactly where a few servants had laid them last night. You had denied every offer to have them unpacked for you.

Denial. You refused to believe that you were actually stuck here. This would never be your home. It couldn’t be.

“He’s not here,” Feyd was sitting at a long, slate-gray table by himself. The food on his plate had barely been touched, but he had busied himself with chopping the meat up into miniscule pieces, too small to even fit on the prongs of his fork. “If you were planning on trying to make a good impression, you can forget about it. He always has his food sent to his quarters.”

You thanked the two ladies that had shown you through the colorless halls under your breath, moving to sit on the other side of the table. At least eight chairs separated you from the Na-baron and it still wasn’t enough. You wished you were on an entirely different planet, lightyears away from the Harkonnen scum.

The room was practically empty aside from the large dining room table. No art decorated the walls or rugs to cover the floor. It was all cold, black marble with white accents.

“I don’t care, actually.” And you were being truthful. You didn’t care about getting on the Baron’s good side any more than you cared about getting on Feyd’s.

He smiled then, staring at you long and hard before licking one of his black painted canines. He was amused by the blase way you brushed off his uncle so easily. Indifference wasn’t something he was used to, especially not when everyone in the galaxy had tried so hard to get on their good sides. People tended to tread lightly as far as the Harkonnens were concerned. They were as wealthy as they were cunning.

“Be careful, little Atreides. Saying things like that might get you hurt around here.” His gruff voice was but a whisper now, and suddenly you felt as though there weren’t twelve feet of dead-air separating the two of you.

You had picked up your fork, ready to eat whatever bland food had been prepared for you, but froze at his words. Heat rose to your cheeks and you were quick to lean back in the ornate high-backed chair, the cool iron seeping into your back through your clothes.

“Do you mean to threaten me?” Your words were icy, tongue sharp and ready to give him a proper lashing.

“It’s not a threat, darling.” He was practically purring, reveling in the joy of referring to you whilst using a pet name. It suddenly looked as though a switch had been turned on, his eyes narrowing on you. “I know him far better than you do. He’s killed people for far less. Be careful.” There seemed to be something he wasn’t telling you. There was genuine warning in his tone.

A pause.

“Please.” And then he went back to eating.

So were you supposed to act gutted at his uncle’s absence? You picked up the fork and took a bite of whatever had been put on your plate. It wasn’t at all what you were used to. Even the food tasted. . . fake. The meat tasted like it had been pumped full of chemicals and was mealy in your mouth, like sand. Still, you swallowed despite your distaste and shoved the plate away from you.

“Who have you assigned to be my sparring partner? I’m sure that my father made your uncle aware that I train daily, correct?” If you didn’t physically exert yourself and blow off some steam then you were bound to get no sleep tonight.

Last night you had tossed and turned, unable to stay asleep when your body was constantly alerting you to possible dangers. Even now you were on high alert, eyes locked on the knife that sat on the right side of Feyd’s plate. Your own fingers danced towards yours it you watched. Waited. Worried.

“Training?” He tilted his head again, eyes narrowed in disbelief. You could almost see the cogs turning as he mulled over your words. “What good would training do you now? If there are any threats then I am here to protect you- that’s my duty as your husband.”

Ah, yes. Why would a woman train when she could just sit back and play the part of a perfect little wife instead? You could spit.

“Would you rather I just hunt down one of your servants and kill him for sport?” You hated that he was so good at getting a reaction out of you. Maybe you were acting too much like a brat, but you wanted to see him squirm. Seeing him mad must be better than seeing him. . . like this.

For a second he sat there, arms perched nonchalantly over the armrests of his chair, staring at you with a crooked smile. You jumped in surprise when a chuckle escaped him, the act itself so out of place, so surprising that all you could do was stare in horror. The chuckles soon morphed into frenzied laughter, and he was quick to lean back in his seat so that he could place a hand on his chest.

“Was that funny to you?” You spoke through gritted teeth.

He watched the muscle in your jaw clench and unclench with wild eyes, sucking in a deep breath in the hopes of calming himself. Still, to hear such a beautiful woman speak such hideous words. . . it was wonderful, bordering on perverted.

“If you do kill a servant, please make sure I’m there to watch.”

He was too busy watching your face to notice the knife that you slid into the sleeve of your dress. With a huff you stood up, your skirts dryly brushing along the ground as you started to make your way out of the large room.

“I require a trainer.” You tried to mimic your mother’s tone, straightening your shoulders as you turned to look at him.

Lady Jessica always had a way of commanding a room. She was powerful, your mother. You needed to channel that same power now.

“You’ll train with me then,” He stood up from the table, the height and build of him alone nearly causing you to take a step back. You’d forgotten how large he was. How formidable. “Consider it a wedding gift.”

This had you balking, mouth opening and closing as you tried to think of some way to refuse. He was already stalking past you though, ignoring whatever retorts you were bound to make.

“I recommend getting changed. . . Unless you want me to tear that dress to shreds.”

That awful, ugly, no good-

“Bastard!” You whispered under your breath, wadding up your dress just to angrily toss it onto your bed.

You sank to your knees, braiding your fingers into your hair so that you could give it a few good yanks. He was doing this to fuck with your head. All of this was calculated on his part, it had to be. Was it all just to get a rise out of you? Or did he truly want to try and hurt you? You couldn’t figure him out, and that boiled your blood. All Harkonnens were cunning, blood thirsty schemers. You wouldn’t put it past him to be unhappy with the marriage arrangement, choosing to resort to violence in order to end things.

‘Now. Now is the time to strike.’

You’d already hidden the blade under the mattress of the bed. The Baron wouldn’t allow you to live if you killed his precious nephew, but you’d much rather put up some sort of a fight than be put down like a dog. After taking a few steadying breaths you somehow managed to pull on your trousers and shirt, your mind plagued with dangerous, dangerous thoughts. If the moment called for it you were certain that you could not kill Feyd in hand to hand combat. His skills with a blade was well known across the galaxy, and while you were more than able to defend yourself, you weren’t delusional enough to think that you could manage to beat him without using underhanded tactics.

You’d have to wait until his guard was lowered.

“Do all women take this long to get ready?”

You hadn’t heard the door open, nor his footsteps approaching. Who knew how long he had been watching you. The intrusion was an unwelcome one. You looked up to glare at him, trying hard not to balk at his appearance. The clothes he wore were skin tight, a black material that caught the dim lighting- like it was made of pitch black oil. His pants were tucked into big black boots, laced up high on his calf.

He stretched his arms up, leaning against the doorframe so that he could continue his awkward staring.

He did a lot of that it would seem. Any time you turned your head to face him you found that he was already looking in your direction. It was odd. . . off putting to say the least. Of course you couldn’t know that he was currently tracing the lines of your face with his eyes, committing every detail to memory. You were so different when he compared you to the females that he was used to seeing. You were all soft lines, long lashes and doe eyes. He found it impossible not to look at you. Gorgeous… you were gorgeous.

“It took me a while to get out of my dress on my own.”You shoved your way past him in the doorway, his chest warm under your palms.

You were quick to jerk away, startled by the fact that this was the first time that you’d touched him since the two of you had reunited.

You didn’t hate the feel of him, but you should have.

“Then you should have asked for some help.” He said, reaching out to grab you by the back of your shirt when you started to walk off in the wrong direction.

Feyd pulled you along like he would a pet on a leash through the triangular halls, ignoring your mumbled curses as you tried swatting him away.

The shield vibrated in your ears as you switched on the button, enveloping you in its warmth.

You used to find it uncomfortable as a child, the tight, foreign warmth triggering a mild case of claustrophobia. You were used to it now, wearing it like a second skin. You waited for Feyd to turn his on as well, the blade clutched tight in your palm.

You waited. And waited. And waited.

“Where’s your shield?” You asked him, motioning towards his hip with your free hand.

There it was, that crooked smile again. He was laughing at you. Was he trying to infer that you were weak? Was he so confident in his skills that he didn’t even see you as a threat?

“I don’t see the nee-” He didn’t get very far.

You kicked your leg out, catching the back of his right knee. His legs buckled, and he was quick to adjust himself, his left arm flying up to catch your wrist before you could sink the blade home. For a split second the two of you just stared at each other. Mild shock in his eyes, your own alight with an anger so consuming that you feared you might be burnt up with it. He gave your arm a sharp tug, hard enough that the joint rolled uncomfortably in its socket.

You kicked your leg out before he could throw you over his shoulder, landing a sharp blow to his ribs. You heard him let out a pained moan before you hit the ground. Using your weight to your advantage, you tucked your body in, rolling to the side so that you could easily stand up to your knees, blade poised at your side and ready for an attack.

“You fight well, Atreides.” Feyd purred, spinning his blade between two fingers before letting it fall back into his pale palm.

“Turn on your shield.” You growled, rising to your full height so that you could begin circling him, a panther ready to pounce.

“Was it Duke Leto that trained you?” Still, he was ignoring your statement.

“No.”

“No, of course it wasn’t him,” He took a step closer to you, eyeing you down. No one had looked at you like that before. . . and it made your skin crawl. You didn’t want to be desired by this man, the thought alone was miserable enough to have bile rising in your throat. “Your father is too weak-spirited to ever train you himself, lest he accidentally harm you.”

Your heart was beginning to pound in your ears now, vision tunneling. All you could see was Feyd. All you could imagine was the blade that you were currently white-knuckling sunk hilt deep into his chest.

“How horrible it must be for Caladan to have a Duke so. . . spineless.”

You bared your teeth, and for a second you were sure that you would snap the hilt in half with how hard you were gripping your blade. You demanded blood for such an insult. How dare he. How dare he.

“I should cut out your tongue!” You screamed, pointed the blade at him.

‘Don’t come any closer’ you urged with your eyes, feeling the angry tears causing your vision to fog. A Harkonnen was insulting your father. He was insulting your family and now he was smiling at you. The bastard had the gall to smile and this time all of his teeth were showing. Wide, unabashed in his joy. He was terrifying. So much so that you felt your legs begin to shake underneath you.

“But you’ll want to put this tongue to good use eventually.” His gravelly voice purred.

“Silence!” And before you could even control yourself you were using the Voice.

You might not be as talented as your brother when it came to hand to hand combat, but your mother had taken the time to teach you well. Feyd’s mouth snapped shut so hard that you heard his teeth clatter together.

“One more word and I will gut you.” Your voice shook and before you could rethink your actions you were lunging forward, the blade cutting through the air. . .

Aimed at his throat.

He was quick to push your arm away with his forearm, and even with the shield up you could feel the bone shattering pressure he put behind the movement. He was stronger than Paul- stronger than even Gurney. He took advantage of the fact that you were put off balance and grabbed a fist full of hair, the shield around you flashing red as he pressed his blade as close as he could to the base of your throat. Your scalp exploded in pain, eyes watering as he gripped harder to yank your head back so that you were staring directly into his eyes. They held no malice towards you, even despite the fact that you were obviously trying to maim him.

And then he leaned in closer. And closer.

“If I didn’t know any better then I would think that you were actually trying to kill me.” He whispered against the shell of your ear. You could practically feel the warmth of his lips against your skin as he spoke, your heart roaring in your ribcage. With your chests practically touching like this you could smell him.

You’d only caught the scent of spice once in your life- and it was akin to bitter cinnamon. There was something else though, something more complex to it. Aromatic spices you couldn’t quite put your fingers on and. . . the natural musk of his skin.

“So you can speak again?” You managed to tease him through your pain, wincing as he brought you even closer against his chest. The blade that you clutched in your hand was now pressing against his side, the pointed edge digging into his skin.

He didn’t wince, even when you put more pressure against it.

“You think it wise to use the Voice on me in my own home, little girl?” He hissed as he pulled away from your ear, and the fire that was in your eyes was now mirrored in his own.

Slowly you moved the blade away from him, the metallic clanging echoing around the room as you let it fall to the floor. Your palm hurt from the vice-like grip you had been holding it in.

“Release me now.” You didn’t shy away from staring into his eyes, unwavering even when he pressed the blade even tighter, the shield vibrating louder and louder around you.

He leaned in, even when your hands moved to press against his chest, willing him to give you space. You could barely breathe with him this close to you. His own knife clattered to the ground, and using his free hand he ripped the shield from off of your hip. The gasp that escaped your lips was uncontrollable. You could feel his breath on your lips as his eyes continued to swallow you up whole.

They looked even bluer when you were up close like this, framed by long black lashes. For a split second you wondered what had become of that beautiful little boy you had met. Had Baron Vladmir beaten the beauty out of him? Or perhaps it had never truly been there to begin with.

When Feyd looked at you, up close like this, all he saw was the object of his ever-present affections. Something yawned to life in his chest- the need to protect. All at once he felt wrong, disgusting and horrible for causing you any sort of pain.

But you looked so lovely with those tears in your eyes. So much so that he gave your hair another small yank, a shuddered breath escaping his lips as you yelped in pain. He saw the hate in your eyes and he detested it.

‘Fear me’ he silently urged. ‘Love me, do as I say and I will become your slave.’

His lips brushed against yours, achingly slow- painfully soft.

“I yield.” You were quick to say, pulling as far back as you could even with the grip he had on your hair.

Fire. Your scalp felt like it was on fire.

And then he released you, taking a step back with a heaving chest. The spell now broken, it felt like the world around you suddenly resumed its orbit. Wordlessly he pressed a hand to his side- the side that you had pressed the knife- and when he pulled it away you could see that it was stained with blood.

“Didn’t you say that you were going to gut me?” There was no hint of humor in his voice now.

“I wanted to.” You conceded.

“Then you should have tried harder.”

Again you lay in bed awake, unable to fall asleep. You told yourself that it was just homesickness that had you clinging to the blankets, but you knew better. What had happened today left you rattled and confused.

There were a hundred times today that Feyd could have killed you. Everything that Gurney had ever taught you had disappeared like smoke in the wind the second that your father was mentioned. You had acted on instinct alone.

And if it was an actual fight to the death then you would have lost. Miserably.

There was something strange about it though. It never once felt like an actual training session. He taught you nothing and gave you no feedback. Not only that but. . . it never felt like he actually wanted to damage your pride. He didn’t turn on his shield before and after taunting you, almost as though he actually wanted one of your attacks to land.

He had allowed you to get everything out of your system. You hated that it had worked. It wasn’t helping you to sleep tonight though. No, you had other things on your mind now.

Like the fact that he had almost kissed you.

Your knowledge was limited where men were concerned, but you were nearly positive that there was something sexual about the way that he had treated you. It was like he didn’t want to actually hurt you, but still went out of his way to touch you.

You’d be sure to ask for someone that might be willing to train you again tomorrow over breakfast. Someone who wasn’t Feyd, preferably. Lunch and dinner had been spent in silence on your part tonight. He had tried to strike up conversation a few times, even baiting you in ways that might warrant annoyance and anger. You didn’t budge. Why? Because you hated how nervous you felt in his presence now.

Was it because you were afraid of him? That had to be it. Hearing about his proficiency in fighting and seeing it first hand were two different things. He had practically swung you around like a ragdoll. It was absolutely humiliating.

Yes, that had to be it. . . well, you hoped.

“Atreides.”

The sound of your name had you bolting up into a sitting position, willing your eyes to adjust to the non-existent lighting in the room. The sound of footsteps had your heart jumping up into your throat, adrenaline flooding your system once you realized that it wasn’t a voice that you recognized.

No one had entered the room since you’d gotten back from dinner, which meant. . .

Whoever this was had been hiding, waiting until you completely lowered your guard. You were in danger. Horrible, horrible danger.

‘Be careful. Please.’ You remembered Feyd’s words from earlier.

He had been trying to warn you.

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ೃ࿔ savage bonds taglist:

@elf-punk @shitfuckeryclownverse @mydarlingelvis @heartarianagran @ohdearmaggie @chalametism @killingboredom @obsessedvibee @avidreader73 @softboo @tedcruzumakii @luminnara @narniansmagic @torchbearerkyle @ziggy-stardust-world @tian-monique @adoxra @zz-snow-zz @tiredsleepyhead @icontrolthespice @itsparksjoyhuh @verveta345 @shegatsby @zae5 @ertepla @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @lotus-888 @meetmeatyourworst @moonchild-artemisdaughter @abswifey @flower-frog @auroranodyssey @forgedfromthestars @moony-artemis @juliskopf @moonsoulk @serrendiipty @atrxidxs @the-ruler-of-death @mintoblobo @just-pure-trash @randominterwebthings @springholland @so-dramatic1 @ashy-kit @aslutforscarletwitch99 @sofia-013 @gamorxa @ricecakeslove @alexandrainlove @selfishlittlebeing @ceres27

the wonderful line “fear me, love me. do as i say and i will become your slave” is from the movie “the labyrinth”!

#feyd rautha #feyd x reader #feyd x you #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha x you #dune part 2 #dune #austin butler #austin butler x reader #smut #dune smut #feyd rautha smut #feyd rautha harkonnen #dune x reader #dune x you #dune fanfiction #feyd rautha fic #austin butler fic

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