#ask: thg

[alwaysspeakshermind]

When do you think Katniss and Peeta developing real romantic feeling toward each other?

Thank you 😊

@everlarkshipper

Well!

(gif originally saved from tenor, not mine)

In my personal opinion, I think Peeta begins falling for Katniss pretty much exactly when he says he does in the cave (aka, the first day of school when she sang, aka, "from that moment on, I was a goner"). He's not afraid of feelings/doesn't think of them as a weakness the way Katniss is/does, and while they don't officially meet until the day of the Reaping, they're not quite total strangers, either. It's sort of a running joke about small towns that "everybody knows everybody," so even when you aren't close to someone, you still kind of know things about them because you simply can't avoid crossing paths throughout your life.

[For instance: when I was in college, there was this one semester where I'd pass this same guy on my way to class every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday for three+ months. To this day, I don't know his name, I don't know his major, I don't know whether he was coming from a dorm or a class or the library, but I know he had to catch the 11:55 bus, that he liked vanilla protein drinks more than chocolate protein drinks, that he would rather trip over someone than elbow his way past them, that he really liked wearing gray, and that he could jump a bike rack if he wanted to, because I observed all those pieces of information just casually walking past him for that short amount of time even though I had no interest in him. Peeta, by comparison, was interested in Katniss from the get-go and saw her at least five days a week for about a decade, so I think it's safe to assume a lot of the knowledge he surprises her by airing during their discussion with Haymitch (the hunting skills, the good aim, etc.) are things he's picked up on because he's (as he says) "paying attention." ]

Because his dad points Katniss out and tells a story about her mother (and her father, and the baker, which in and of itself is kind of interesting as it can sort of be taken as foreshadowing since it involves two kids from one side of town who grow up together but don't end up together because one of the kids falls in love with a person from the opposite side of town which, ya know, sounds a little G/K/P but I digress), Peeta notices her. But that first notice isn't The Moment™ for him; instead, it's her volunteering (!!!) to get up in front of the class and sing the Valley song that does him in.

And to be honest, while I do understand where people who discount that first day of school thing because "they were just kids" are coming from, I personally think it has to be counted because, as Peeta himself points out, he "noticed just about every girl," but the only one who makes "a lasting impression" is Katniss meaning, in essence, that he sort of tested/examined his feelings for Katniss and realized way before the Games that they were, in fact, strong enough to make him want to try and keep her alive at his own expense in the arena. For him, the romantic feelings are already in place by the time we the readers meet him, and finally getting to know her only strengthens how he feels because a lot of the things he most admires about her (her strength, her bravery, her skill, her stubbornness, her love for her sister, etc.) are all on full display. (Also: he thinks she's funny even if no one else does, and like he tells her in Catching Fire when she's mad at him for laughing after the Johanna-Elevator incident, he basically loves the fact that she's intimidating on the outside and awkward as anything [aka, "pure"] on the inside.)

To me, it's kind of significant that for Peeta, it's emphasized at the end of THG how he's "already there" when it comes to being in love, and that he "[wants] it to be real" in CF when they're parading their fake but-maybe-not-so-fake relationship around, and I firmly believe that the main reason his MJ storyline hurts so much beyond the usual watching-a-favorite-character-be-damaged-by-the-narrative is because his inability to tell the difference between what's real and what isn't is such a perversion of his previously rock-solid love for Katniss. Up until that moment in the series, we the readers and Katniss, and basically all the rest of Panem know that Peeta's feelings for her are real; after what the Capitol does to him, his biggest point of confusion centers on what he feels for Katniss, but even when he doubts what he's seeing/hearing/thinking/feeling, reason still tells him that you don't start off risking a beating for burning bread and go back into a government-sponsored death match for someone you don't love a whole lot.

In Katniss' case I think it's more difficult to pinpoint one exact moment of origin, because she doesn't like to deal with feelings to begin with and is also too practical to take time to sit down and sort out how she feels when there are so many other things to do (and also, a lot of what causes her to fall for Peeta are the smaller, everyday parts of his personality rather than any single grand gesture or one particular moment they share together).

That being said, Katniss is one of the closest approximations to myself that I've ever come across in fiction in terms of how we think/operate, so I personally see a lot of giveaways regarding how/what she thinks of Peeta and how that shifts over time. And to me, the closest thing to an official Romantic Feels Are Sparking moment is the moment in the cave when she starts to wonder if he's a really, really, really good actor, or if what he's telling her is maybe based in truth.

One of the things I've noticed over time during HG discussions is that a lot of people seem to either not fully understand or to gloss over Katniss' practicality, which is a huge part of who she is and how she makes her decisions (including romantic ones). Like she says herself several times throughout the series, Katniss is focused predominantly on survival for most of her life. That's it. She doesn't go for things like music, ribbons, pets, etc., because they're not useful, and to her, romantic relationships also fall in that category because they carry an inherent risk with them in a world where children born outside the wealthy Capitol are in danger of starving to death or getting sent to the Games, and loving and losing someone has the potential to make you fall apart. Due to everything she's gone through in life (losing her father, being essentially forced to take his place, etc.) , she's become self-sufficient and distrustful, and also extremely good at compartmentalizing her feelings (with the sometimes exception of anger). From the second she volunteers for Prim, her focus is on how to maximize her chances of survival; while she knows her odds aren't good, she's too much of a fighter to go down without swinging, and when she sees ways in which she can improve her chances, she goes after them to the best of her ability.

Enter: Peeta, the boy she feels indebted to but has never interacted with even once, who she is now competing with for survival.

Also enter: complicated feelings Katniss very much does not want to deal with because they are a distraction from her current goal of survival.

While it's definitely tempting to make headcanons about how Katniss also maybe had feelings for Peeta prior to the Games because she "[keeps] track of the boy with the bread," I think the important takeaway is: no romantic feelings exist on Katniss' side, but the potential for feelings might...it's just complicated by the Games, because Katniss is so focused on staying alive that she's constantly on guard and keeps misinterpreting his actions as some sneaky, crafty plan when he's actually just being kind. So, even when he catches her off guard and makes her laugh/she finds herself not totally hating hanging out with him, she has to immediately nip all that in the bud because she knows that her survival will ultimately come at the cost of his death, and it's an ugly reality that's much easier to face if she doesn't like him, or at least doesn't know him, than it will be if they become friends and she has to kill him/watch him die/mourn his loss (basically, the whole insidiousness principle of the Games: it forces you into dehumanizing your competitors to save yourself, which will ultimately take a horrible toll on you no matter what).

Although Katniss is inclined to like him, she is also massively confused by him because he keeps behaving in ways that are contradictory to all sense and reason ("He's very hard to predict, which might be interesting under different circumstances, but at the moment only provides another obstacle"), so she's constantly sifting through information until basically, only three explanations for what he's doing remain:

He's trying to survive and jumping at anything that will heighten his chance of that no matter how ruthless (aka pretending to be nice so he can eliminate her later, joining the careers, etc.)

He's genuinely kind but also genuinely trying to survive and is just acting for sponsors

He's telling the truth and really does like her

The trouble is, if you run all those reasons through the logic filter, the answer that seems the most likely is #2, because in Katniss' mind, it doesn't make sense that he'd help her as much as he does if he were just trying to kill her, but it also doesn't make sense that he'd do everything he does because he loves her since she doesn't even understand why anyone outside of her mother and sister would like her. So in essence, every time Peeta sort of tips his hand about how he really feels, Katniss notices it, but is able to find a logical explanation for it/dismiss it as strategy until that one moment in the cave when she realizes he's telling her some things that have a basis in reality, which would imply that everything he's been saying about liking her but her not knowing he was alive is true. And that time when they kiss, she feels something that A) gets the blood pumping in her cut enough to make Peeta stop it all, and B) sticks in her mind enough that she mentions it again in connection with the beach kiss(es) in CF.

Anyways. This is super-duper wordy, so for purposes of succinctness, I have also provided a quick photo summary of my arguments regarding when Katniss first began having real romantic feelings toward Peeta:

Everything is then (of course) further complicated by Snow and the Capitol, plus Peeta learning that Katniss was under the impression that the Star-Crossed Lovers story was a survival strategy, but the important thing to remember in my opinion is that Katniss explicitly states at both the end of THG and the beginning of CF that she is not sure how much of what she does in the 74th Games is an act, because those little moments in the cave feel real (coughcough), while most of the rest can be written off as planned pageantry.

Thanks for the ask, and sorry for the longwinded response! 😘

[mikonez]

I like them a normal amount.

[erros429]

Hi :} do you still take suggestions? Is it cool if you make a chimera falin post? If its fine with you. Thank you :)

chimera falin…… shes soaugh hot…… here’s dungeon meshi textposts pt40 sorry it's been a second since i made one of these

pt1 | pt2 | pt3 | pt4 | pt5 | pt6 | pt7 | pt8 | pt9 | pt10 

pt11 | pt12 | pt13 | pt14 | pt15 | pt16 | pt17 | pt18 | pt19 | pt20 

pt21 | pt22 | pt23 | pt24 | pt25 | pt26 | pt27 | pt28 | pt29 | pt30

pt31 | pt32 | pt33 | pt34 | pt35 | pt36 | pt37 | pt38 | pt39 | pt40

[marvelsswansong]

Imagine corio seeing a woman flirt with r he’s so confused cuz he’s used to disgusting men after her only

no but like seriously 🌞👉👈

Corio isn't oblivious to the fact that there is a price for dating someone as beautiful as you. Namely, that others - doesn't matter if they're complete strangers or close working colleagues - will secretly want you, with some of them even being bold enough to try and entice you.

This is all much to his annoyance, as he tries being very public about the fact that you're his. Think constant arm around your waist, aggressive kisses in public, loudly calling you 'darling' from across the room. But that doesn't seem to deter everyone.

Especially not the types of men in the Capitol.

If he's feeling calmer that day, he might just stop at glaring at the man whilst pulling you away by the waist, or knocking the breath of you by suddenly grabbing your face and kissing you fiercely for the crowd of men to see. If he's in a sour mood, or it's been a hard week, you have to be careful to keep an eye on the blonde in case he flies into a fit of rage and his mind starts to scan the room for whatever is sharp and capable of causing damage.

"Sometimes I feel as if I have to babysit you." you would tease after one particularly harsh night, where you and Corio get thrown out of a house party after he smashed another man's face into the wall and then proceeded to twist the man's arm to the point of almost breaking a bone. Granted, the man had been extremely aggressive towards you and making very inappropriate comments, but it'd been rather awkward to see the stranger be carried onto an ambulance whilst the head of the household ordered the both of you out.

Chest heaving and knuckles still bruised from the impact, he'd just kiss you again, his tongue tasting of copper.

"Can't help it. You're too pretty." he whispers, and all your criticisms of him would fly out the window.

But Coriolanus is always less guarded when it's a woman around you. After all, you have so many best friends who are women, you spend so much time around grandma'am and Tigirs, and so on. He just associates women being around you with platonic love and comfort.

So when you leave him to go get some drinks at the bar, a fancy upper east side bar you've been begging to go to, he's too busy searching the room for potential men who approach you to notice the red haired woman beelining towards you. She bumps into you 'on accident', pink champagne spilling over the tip of the glass just a bit - a light splash on your jeans, but nothing too bad.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry." she quickly says, grabbing a nearby napkin to hand it off to you. Coriolanus watches the interaction from the back of the club, the specifics of your conversation with her unintelligble over the loud music, but he doesn't think anything much of it. Even when the auburn haired woman's fingers brush against yours whilst exchanging the napkin.

He watches as you smile politely at her, probably telling her that it's okay, before turning around to the bartender to make an order. The woman next to you continues to talk to you through out the exchange, which again doesn't raise any red flags to Corio.

After all, women are very friendly by nature. It's normal that someone, especially a stranger who feels bad for spilling a drink on you, wants to continue to talk to you.

You don't think much of it either on your end, other than thinking that she - Clara, she tells you her name after a soft giggle - is very nice.

It's only when the drinks arrive and the woman stops you, lightly sitting you back down and brushing away the hair from your eyes, that Coriolanus starts feeling rather odd. The sudden wide eyes on your face and the red haired woman's smirk, before she slides you a piece of paper from her back pocket and lets you go, raises a lot of questions in his mind.

His top options? Something along the lines of bribery or illegal drugs. Or maybe she's using you to get something from him. Or maybe she wants something from your family.

What he doesn't expect, is for you to come back totally speechless, fingers deftly hanging onto the small piece of paper. You look somewhere between embarrassed and shocked, refusing to meet your boyfriend's eyes as you sit down next to him. He frowns at that, patting his lap instead.

Normally, you'd sit on his legs without a second thought. This time though, you hesitate.

"What'd she want? Drugs? Mone-" he growls, only to be cut off by the stranger.

"So you weren't lying. You do have a boyfriend." the red haired woman cuts into the conversation, now sitting on the velvet chair across from you. Coriolanus swears his jaw almost drops when the woman laughs seductively, winking at you whilst uncrossing her legs.

"You can sit on my lap instead, honey."

"I, you- I just-" Coriolanus starts speaking in an attempt to swear or scare her off, but his mind totally blanks.

You've never seen your boyfriend this flustered. His pale complexion breaks into a dark shade of red, his usually stern gaze darting back and forth between you and the woman, his speech stuttered and jumbled. It's YOU who ends up having the composure to let her down gently, holding out the paper with her phone number out towards her and informing her that you love your boyfriend very much and you're not that interested.

She pouts at that, and it makes your boyfriend's jaw clench so hard his face aches.

"Aw... alright, darling. But keep the paper. You know, just in case you wanna play."

With a wink and a hair flip, she disappears into the dark crowd of sweaty bodies and loud music. It's only then that your boyfriend snaps into action, taking the paper into his hands and shredding it to pieces.

"She called you darling." he snarls, angry. "Only I get to call you darling."

You just giggle, kissing away his sour expression, before tugging at his sleeves.

"Come on, forget about it. Let's just dance." you say, the alcohol in your veins still making you feel buzzed. He complies, never being able to say no to you, but the entire night, he can't help but hold you very close and glare at everyone who approaches you or even looks at you.

Regardless of their gender.

Now, he has to protect you from everyone, he thinks.

BONUS SCENARIO (later in the night)

You've had one too many drinks and yell into Coriolanus' ear that you really need to go to the bathroom. You clutch your handbag and stumble into the corridor, leaving your boyfriend alone by the bar. A stunning blonde woman slides into the empty seat next to him, glossy lips parting to ask a question.

Thinking she's going to hit on him, he raises his right hand, stopping her on the spot.

"I'm not interested, sorry."

The woman scoffs at that, ordering a tequila shot and almost glaring at him.

"Neither am I, genius. I was just wondering if you knew the name of the cutie who just went to the bathroom."

The moment you come back, he practically drags you out of the bar and hails a cab back to the apartment.

He's had enough of women trying to steal you from him. At least for that night.

a/n: hope you guys like this small type of blurbs too in between major fics hehe

[ilguna]

Hey! Can I get the number 89 (in honour of 1989 tv) with finnick ?

☼ lovestruck, lovesick, lovelorn pt1 (Finnick Odair) ☼

warnings; swearing, death mention, death, gore for sure, blood, weapon usage, mention of prostitution.

wc; 8.6k

prompt; 86. "Do you trust her?" // "No, but I trust her anger."

notes; i already did 89 for Peeta (castaway) and i'm trying not to do any repeats, so we're going with 86 :)

part two, part three.

--

The golden Cornucopia sits abandoned in the middle of this black sand island, whereas normally it’s occupied by the Careers to ensure that no intruders steal from them. There must not be anything worth protecting in here, then, besides the weapons that are displayed.

This allows the group to spread out, picking places to rest in the shade. Peeta lowers Beetee to the ground, propping him up against a box. He backs off, going to stand next to Katniss.

Beetee calls out to Wiress, making her go over to him. She crouches down, hands on her knees, waiting. In her limited state of mind, you’re fairly surprised that she’s still comprehending people, much less requests. He holds up his coil of wire, she takes it. “Clean it, will you?” 

Wiress nods, wordlessly getting to her feet and going to sit on the edge of the island to clean the spool of blood. She dunks it in the water, occasionally using her fingers to rub a particularly hard spot. While she does this, she begins to sing, no longer repeating the words ‘tick tock’.

It must be some sort of nursery rhyme from District Three, because you don’t recognize it. It’s about a mouse running up and down a clock, which is fairly appropriate, given the recent discovery, thanks to her.

“Oh, not the song again.” Johanna says, rolling her brown eyes. “That went on for hours before she started tick-tocking.”

Wiress stops suddenly, getting to her feet, posture rigid as she points to the jungle and says, “Two.”

The rest of you watch as a white wave of fog begins to seep onto the beach. From here, it doesn't seem so threatening. You probably wouldn’t think twice about it, if you hadn’t run for your life from it early this morning. While it melted your jumpsuit and poisoned your skin, causing you to strip to your under clothes and for your body to be covered in scabs from where it touched you.

You’d rather fight the orange monkey muttations a hundred times than risk doing that again.

“Yes, look, Wiress is right. It’s two o’clock and the fog has started.” Katniss says.

“LIke clockwork.” Peeta agrees. “You were very smart to figure that out, Wiress.”

Wiress smiles, and then kneels in the sand to continue singing and dunking the coil in water. “Oh, she’s more than smart.” Beetee says from beside you. Your eyes slide over to him. “She’s intuitive. She can sense things before anyone else. Like a canary in one of your coal mines.”

“What’s that?” Finnick asks Katniss.

“It’s a bird that we take down into the mines to warn us if there’s bad air.” She says.

“What’s it do, die?” Johanna scoffs.

“It stops singing first. That’s when you should get out. But if the air’s too bad, it dies, yes. And so do you.” Katniss ends that line of conversation, turning to go inside of the Cornucopia.

Johanna goes in after her to poke around in the weapons, since she’s been empty handed the entire time. Funny how Beetee was able to make it to the Cornucopia before she did, even if it ended up getting him hurt because of it.

You briefly glance at Finnick from where you were watching Johanna, and you have to do a double-take when you realize that he’s staring at you. He looks you over, up and down, which would be flattering, if you didn’t know that he was assessing your demeanor, deciding if you were a threat.

You squint at him, face twisting. “What?”

“Nothing.” He tells you.

“It’s not nothing if you’re looking at me like that.” You snap. “Leave me alone.”

He shakes his head, but doesn’t say anything back. You’re getting tired of him thinking that you’re going to betray the alliance. You’re in this as much as he is, you volunteered to be here. If anything, he should be a little grateful that he got a district partner that’s invested and capable.

He doesn’t see it that way, though. He thinks that you’re just as bad as Enobaria and Brutus—that you’re itching to get back into an arena to kill for some spotlight. And you know this, because he told you himself on the train. Once you were out of sight of the cameras, he tried to lay you out in front of Mags and the escort, and you shut him down.

You know he disagrees with the way you choose to handle situations, but to think that you would get in the way of a rebellion was a slap to the face. You made sure he knew that later on, when you were out of earshot of the Peacekeepers. If he wanted to think of you so lowly, fine. The line is drawn when he begins to implant those ideas in other people’s heads, too. Especially since you’ve done nothing to deserve it.

It didn’t matter to him. In fact, he tried to block you from being invited into the alliance by telling Haymitch that you could fuck the whole plan if your mood changes. He said all it would take is one disagreement, one thing not going the way you wanted, one wrong look, and you’d make sure that everyone else would be brought down by it.

Thankfully, Haymitch knows better than to just take Finnick’s word for it. He might be a drunk, but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t paying attention for the past ten years. He knows that you and Finnick have a history of not getting along. If anything, you’ll sabotage Finnick more than you will the alliance as a whole.

Which is why he told you that you have a place in it, if you want. And while everyone else places stepping stones to make sure that the plan to get rescued is in place. You were told that you have two jobs; the first one being protecting Katniss and Peeta, a task that you were already prepared to risk your life for. As for the second one—if anything were to go wrong, if someone unexpected were to get killed, you’ll replace their shoes, and get Katniss and Peeta to the end of the day at all costs.

This is why you’ve been on edge. If Finnick would see past his hatred for you, and thought about it, he’d realize that you’re trying to make sure that Katniss and Peeta are in good positions. You are not the threat here.

Johanna lets out a grunt, you turn your head in time to watch as she throws an axe through the air, straight at the Cornucopia. It hits the sun-softened gold with a gentle thud, and it sticks. She crosses the area, pulling it out by the handle, making a face at the blade.

Katniss is digging through the weapons, probably looking for more arrows to add to her collection, because two sheaths aren’t enough. When she finds one, she swings it over her back and comes out to stand over Peeta, who’s drawing a map of the arena onto a large leaf that he brought from the jungle. He slices the circle, creating twelve equal wedges.

“Look how the Cornucopia is positioned.” He says, looking up at her.

Her eyebrows draw in, and she turns around to take a look at the building she just came out of. “The tail points to twelve o’clock.”

“Right, so this is the top of our clock.” He says, numbering the wedges one through twelve. “Twelve to one is the lightning zone.” He proceeds to write lightning in the wedge, and then goes clockwise, adding blood, fog, and monkeys in the next sections.

“And ten to eleven is the wave.” She says, he writes it down. 

Finnick comes over with Johanna, the two of them have upped the weapon count on their bodies. And he thinks you’re the dangerous one, as if you don’t have a sword and a couple knives on you. Does he really need two tridents and half a dozen knives? It makes him look…

Hot, a voice whispers from the depth of your mind, It makes him look hot.

He’s standing in a patch of sun, where the Cornucopia doesn’t quite reach. The sunbeams baking his already tanned skin. His eyes are a brighter shade of sea green, with the light being in his eyes. He looks like he belongs at the bottom of the ocean, commanding the creatures that dwell in it.

He must feel your eyes on him, because he flickers over to yours. You stare for a second longer, before blinking and looking away, back at the map that’s being drawn. 

It’s a shame that Finnick decided years back that he would rather keep you at a distance instead of making a friend out of you. The two of you are so similar that it hurts at times, but all he can see are the differences, which hurts more.

The both of you won at young ages, with him setting the record, while you won at fifteen. He had an advantage in his Games, though, because the sponsors were drawn in by his good looks for being someone so young. This meant that he had everything he could have ever asked for gifted to him in the arena.

On the other hand, you didn’t make much of an impression during your reaping or the Tribute Parade, forcing you to change the strategy that you’d been given by Finnick and Mags. They wanted you to keep your head down, but if you wanted even a sliver of a chance, you needed to make your name big.

So, that’s exactly what you did. And that’s where the resentment he has for you, started. You showed off absolutely all your skills in the Training Center, making sure the Gamemakers knew you had potential, getting you a score of nine. During your interviews, you told Caesar that there wasn’t a single hurdle you wouldn’t jump to get home.

That statement was put to the test in the arena, when you killed several tributes, including your own district partner, because you knew it put you one step closer to getting out. You didn’t care what bridges you had to burn, how many sponsors you had to lose, or if you lost the support of your mentors. Nothing could stop you, and it didn’t.

Finnick hates that you had no remorse when you got out of the arena. Or now, because you told him that this is the hill you’ve chosen to die on, because between life and death, you choose life. He can’t wrap his head around the fact you’re so cold. How could the two of you be from the same district?

The similarities came back into play when you turned sixteen, when the Capitol realized that they do care about you. Which changed your title from victor to Capitol darling. You were told to join Finnick and be a prostitute, or President Snow would kill your family. 

This is where you screwed up, believing him to be bluffing. You didn’t think he would actually do it, but he’s a man of his word. When you were done listening to the screams and pleas of your parents to spare your siblings, Snow told you that if you didn’t agree, Finnick’s family would be next.

You had no choice, you had to agree. And when Finnick found out that you landed right where he was, there wasn’t a single shred of empathy he had toward you. Not even after you returned to District Four, and he learned that your family had been murdered in your home. The one you’d be forced to stay in for an additional two weeks while they got your victor house ready.

If you weren’t indifferent to his existence before, you sure as hell were then.

“Did you notice anything unusual in the others?” Katniss asks Johanna and Beetee, referring to the wedges. 

“Only blood.” Johanna says, Beetee nods.

“I guess they could hold anything.” Katniss looks down at Peeta.

“I’m going to mark the ones where we know the Gamemakers’ weapon follows us out past the jungle, so we’ll stay clear of those.” Peeta says, drawing diagonal lines on the fog and wave beaches. He then sits back. “Well, it’s a lot more than we knew this morning, anyway.”

You look up, going to check on Wiress, since she’s gone quiet. Your eyes find Gloss, water dripping from his bare skin, knife sliding across the skin on her throat. It’s too late to save her, you know this when the blood begins to come down her neck like a waterfall.

The knife on your belt is in your hand and flying through the air in the matter of seconds. It’s headed right for Gloss, and when the blade lodges in the center of his forehead, it throws him back. This kills him instantly.

A movement out of the corner of your eye makes you turn your head, hand reaching for the knife that’s lined up next, but Johanna’s on it. She buries her axe in the center of Cashmere’s chest, eliminating her.

Three cannons blast, back to back.

Finnick swings his trident upward, deflecting a spear that had been aiming for Peeta, thrown by Brutus. Finnick goes to twist his body to take the knife that Enobaria throws at Beetee, but he misses by an inch. It’s too late for you to save Beetee, as the knife shatters the lens on the right side, and the blade buries itself in his eye socket.

Fuck.

Another cannon blasts.

You shove Finnick out of the way to chase after Enobaria and Brutus, who are making their escape around the backside of the Cornucopia. They’ve successfully killed two of your most important allies, and they don’t even realize it.

The two Careers are running down one of the sand strips to the beach. You manage to throw one more knife at Brutus before he’s out of range. It slams into his right calf, taking him down. He lands on his hands and knees, which is exactly what you were hoping for.

Right as you’re about to step onto the strip, the ground beneath you jerks, throwing you down. The center island of the Cornucopia begins to spin, fast. You press your sword between your body and the ground, digging your fingers into the grooves to hold on. 

It’s only thirty seconds later when it slams to a stop without warning. 

You squeeze your eyes shut, taking measured breaths to calm the growing annoyance in your chest. The Gamemakers knew you would kill Brutus, and later Enobaria, if you caught up with her. That’s why they had to intervene, otherwise the fun of the Games would be gone.

You slam your fist against the rock, pushing yourself to your knees. You lean back on your heels slightly, face to the sun while you collect yourself. With Wiress and Beetee being gone, this is a very large hiccup that you’re going to have to smooth out. You jinxed yourself, didn’t you?

A sigh leaves you as you get to your feet, swinging the sword into your hand. As you round the corner, you can see that everyone else is upright. Finnick looks over at you, eyebrows raised, waiting for good news, because you were the closest to the Two tributes.

“Brutus is injured. I would’ve had him if the fuckin’ Gamemakers had minded their own business.” You stab the tip of the sword into a patch of sand.

“Where’s Volts?” Johanna asks, looking around the group.

“He’s dead.” You tell her.

She meets your eyes, “What happened?”

“I—” Finnick starts.

“I didn’t block the knife in time.” You talk over him. “Enobaria’s got a strong arm, it went right through his glasses.”

You can see Finnick staring at you from the corner of your eye. You lick your lips, tasting the salt of the water, before pressing them together. When you look at him, the two of you stare for a long second.

You, Johanna and Finnick know what this means. If just one of the Three tributes had been killed, you could’ve used the other. With both of them being gone, it means that someone needs to pick up their job, and you were the one that was elected to do just that.

“What now?” Finnick asks you.

You tilt your head, eyes going out to the water, finding two of the four bodies. It’s got to be Wiress and Gloss, because they’d been right next to each other when they died. You lean your sword up against the Cornucopia before wandering forward, to the edge of the island.

Wiress is floating on her back, on her stomach sits the spool of wire, golden and shining in the sunlight. You begin to head down the sand strip closest to her body. “I want the wire.”

“What for?” Johanna asks, “That was his weapon, not yours.”

You look over your shoulder. “It has to be now, doesn’t it?”

Johanna makes a face, but it’s not one of doubt. She knows that you’re right, that’s why she won’t bother to argue. Not that she would, anyway. You and Johanna get along, basically two peas in the same pod. She just likes Finnick more, because he puts up with her bullshit.

You jog as close as you can get to Wiress’s body, before diving in the warm water. It’s a nice break from the sun, even if it is for a minute. It doesn’t take long to get to her body, prying the coil from her fingers. You’re about to swim away, when you hesitate, closing her eyes.

Finnick is waiting for you on the strip when you get back to it. You place the wire on the rock, and he reaches down to help you up. Your face twists, but you take his hand, letting him help. The moment you’re on both feet, he pulls you close, a rough hand on your shoulder as he pulls you close to speak in your ear.

“If you can’t do this, you need to tell me. I’ll figure something else out.” Finnick harshly whispers.

You jerk back, squinting at him. “Worry about yourself.” 

As you stoop to grab the wire, Finnick shakes his head. “I mean it, (Y/n).”

“And so do I.” You tell him, lowering your voice. “There’s a reason why Haymitch trusted me with this, and not you.”

He raises his eyebrows, “We’re back to this, huh?”

You scoff loudly. “You’re the one that’s upset by it, Finnick. So, here’s a fucking suggestion: deal with it.” You shake your head. “You’re so worried that I’m going to betray the alliance, that’s you’re forgetting that this is what I do.” You motion to the jungle with your free hand. “Enobaria and Brutus can run all they want, but we both know they’re going to have to come out eventually if they plan on finishing us off. And when they do, they’re going to get it.

“Not from you, not from Johanna, from me.” You seethe, moving around Finnick to head back up to the Cornucopia. You throw your hands up, one of them still holding the wire. “Face it, Finnick, I’ve got this handled.”

You turn around, finding that your three other allies have their eyes on you. You ignore them, watching where you place your feet. On the island, you retrieve your sword, dropping the wire onto a box. Finnick is a few feet behind you, wearing a hard expression.

You hate it when you have to talk to him like that, but you can’t do it any other way if you want him to listen to you. It’s like he doesn’t care unless you’re being hostile, except that tone of voice has him on edge, afraid that you’re going to flip a switch.

There is no happy medium. It’s like he’s dead-set on thinking that you’re an unlikable person. You wouldn’t have minded having an actual conversation between you, Finnick and Johanna to figure out a plan together. It’s his fault that he decided to take the situation into his own hands by assuming that you wouldn’t have the ability to fill Beetee’s shoes.

It makes you mad, so now you’re going to take care of it by yourself. As much as he wants you to ask for help, you’ll do everything in your power to make sure you don’t need him. Or the others, for that matter.

“Let’s get off this stinking island.” Johanna says once Finnick has joined the group.

You dig through the weapons in the Cornucopia, looking for a pair of knives that aren’t too short. The only ones that are available are displayed on the wall in the very back. They’re slightly curved, not too heavy. They’ll work just fine.

You watch as Peeta, Finnick and Johanna start in three different directions.

You stand next to Katniss, watching this. When they realize that no one is following them, they stop.

“Twelve o’clock, right?” Peeta asks. “The tail points at twelve.”

“Before they spun us.” Finnick says. “I was judging by the sun.”

“The sun only tells you it’s going on four, Finnick.” Katniss tells him. “Any one of these paths could lead to twelve o’clock.”

You tuck the knives in your belt, as you circle the Cornucopia with them to try and find the path that’ll lead to the twelve beach. Only, the jungle is perfectly replicated in every section, down to the last tree. Johanna suggests following Enobaria and Brutus’s path, but it’s been washed away.

Katniss stops. “I should have never mentioned the clock. Now they’ve taken that advantage away as well.”

“For now.” You murmur. “We still have the wave at ten to tell us, we’ll be back on track after that.”

“Yes, they can’t redesign the whole arena.” Peeta says.

“It doesn’t matter.” Johanna’s growing impatient, wanting to move. “You had to tell us or we never would have moved our camp in the first place, brainless. Come on, I need water. Anyone have a good gut feeling?”

You let them decide which strip to take to the beach. Katniss and Peeta begin to lead the way. You grab the wire, motioning for Johanna and Finnick to go next, but they don’t budge. You roll your eyes and duck your head, putting a good distance between you and Peeta before you walk.

“What’s the plan?” Johanna’s voice sounds far, and she’s trying to be quiet, but there’s not enough going on for it to conceal her.

“She says she’ll handle it.” Finnick murmurs, you can’t tell if he’s mad or not.

“That’s it?” She asks, “It looked like she was yelling at you.”

“She did.” He says. “She told me to worry about myself, and she’ll handle Enobaria and Brutus.”

Johanna doesn’t speak right away. “Do you trust her?”

“No, but I trust her anger.” He tells her. “She’s right, this is what she does best.”

“So, you want to follow behind her?”

“Do you have any other ideas?” Finnick shoots back.

“No.” Johanna sighs.

When you get to the jungle, they look inside of it, trying to figure out if there’s anything waiting inside or not. When you can’t see any immediate threats, they relax.

“Well, it must be monkey hour. And I don’t see any of them in there.” Peeta says. “I’m going to try to tap a tree.”

“No, it’s my turn.” Finnick objects. “I’ll at least watch your back.”

“Katniss can do that.” Johanna says. “We need you to make another map. The other washed away.” She reaches up, yanking off a large leaf to hand to him. “(Y/n) can stay with us, while she figures out what to do with the wire.”

You drop it in the sand, along with your sword, as you sit down. Peeta crouches beside you, beginning to make his map, again. As you watch him draw the slices, your mind begins to wander. 

Katniss and Peeta are the Careers’ focus. They want to target the ones with the highest scores first, and then work their way down. If they take out a few of you in the process, then that’s great, but they’re afraid of what the Twelve tributes could’ve possibly done in order to get a perfect score.

It was a little odd for Gloss to go for Wiress, if this is the case. And Cashmere wasn’t able to kill anybody before she died. You guess she might have been going for Katniss, but Johanna was in between them, she wasn’t going to make it that far. That’s why Brutus tried to get Peeta with the spear, and maybe the knife was originally aimed for Peeta, not Beetee?

You just can’t wrap your head around their strategy of getting rid of the Three tributes. Were Enobaria and Brutus that worried about you guys coming up with a plan to use the explosives on the tribute platforms? It wouldn’t be the first time it happened in the Games, it’s just a stupid idea to do it in the water, when you have nothing to steady yourself on.

Either way, you need to figure out a way to draw them in. If there’s anything you know for sure, it’s that they’ll wait until dark to attack again, because they’ll have cover. It’s only the two of them now, which means they won’t attack the five of you all together, they’ll get overpowered in seconds. They’ll wait until you split up.

You play with the wire, twisting it between your fingers while you think.

If they send another twenty-four rolls from District Three tonight, you’ll have no choice but to go into the jungle for the lightning section, because that’s where they’ll be rescuing you out of the arena. You would just say that you should go up to the lightning tree and wait, except you won’t know what time it is until ten, like you said.

When the wave does it, you’ll have two hours to get to the tree. After that, Katniss and Peeta will have to get split up long enough to get the tracker out of their arms. That’ll be the perfect time to kill Enobaria and Brutus, too.

You just need a reason for them to split up. Johanna’s already agreed to getting it out of Katniss’s arm, which left Peeta for Finnick. You need some sort of placebo plan in the meantime, something for them to focus on to keep their minds off of the fact that the situation is going to be very, very suspicious.

“That’s it.” Peeta says, sitting back. “I don’t—”

A scream cuts through the still air, silencing him. You whip around to look back at the jungle, unsure of whether or not it belongs to Katniss. As you get to your feet, sword in your hand, you can hear another voice, shouting back. That one sounds like Katniss.

“What’s happening?” Peeta asks.

You get to your feet before he does, pulling the sword into your hand as you break through the jungle, swinging at any leaves in your way. “I think we chose the wrong section.”

“It’s supposed to be the monkey mutts right now, how can it be anything else?” Peeta asks.

Your face twists as you look over your shoulder, finding that Johanna’s eyes have rolled back as far as she can get them. “Because it’s the next hour?” She snarks.

Peeta doesn’t respond. For a moment, you’re genuinely concerned that the forcefield on the first day might have fried his brain a lot more than you thought. When you begin to think of all the decisions he’s made over these past couple of days, you relax. It’s not really out of his nature to say something stupid once in a while.

You’re about twenty yards into the jungle when you stop suddenly, sword at your side, eyes scanning the trees above. When Johanna and Peeta finally pause, you realize just how quiet it is out here.

Johanna takes a step or two forward, coming to stand next to you, looking up at the tree branches. She covers her eyes with one hand, squinting. “There’s no birds.”

“Exactly what I was thinking.” You tell her, your normal voice feels too loud. “There’s not even insects.”

“What are you thinking?” She asks, looking at you.

“I feel like it’s too early to be the beast, because the sun was down further yesterday.” 

She nods. “A new hour.”

“That doesn’t explain why it’s so quiet.” Peeta says.

“Could be something in the trees.” You tell him, turning your body to face him. “That’s why I don’t want to go further in.”

“But Katniss and Finnick are in there.” Peeta shakes his head. “We have to.”

“Don’t you think they would’ve called for help by now?” You ask, “We heard Katniss say something, but then she stopped.”

“And they can’t be dead because there’s no cannon.” Johanna says after. “What if they’re hurt?”

You look further into the jungle. “It’s a bad idea.”

“We have to try.” Peeta says, starting toward the two of you.

You move in time to let him pass without running into your shoulder. He makes it an additional five yards before he walks smack into a wall, head bouncing off. A little smile fights its way onto your face, and then it vanishes when you realize that this is exactly what happened when he hit the forcefield.

He reaches out, going to touch it. You stride forward, grabbing the back of the neck of his undershirt, yanking him back. “Are you stupid?”

“Wait.” He swats your hand free. “Watch.”

You grab his wrist when he holds his hand out again, causing him to look at you with wide eyes. “I’m not taking any chances with you.”

“Then do it yourself.” Peeta motions, you let go. “It would’ve blown me back if it was a forcefield. Besides, it’s too far down.”

You look at space in front of you, seemingly fine. The wall that he’d run into isn’t even visible. You take in a breath, holding it, before sticking your hand out in the direction of it.

The palm of your hand vibrates against it, you apply pressure, wondering if it’ll budge if you lean into it, but it doesn’t move. You look down at your sword, pressing your lips together. If this is a forcefield, this will most definitely kill you. Still, you swing the sword into the invisible wall, and you’re pleasantly surprised when it doesn’t explode into sparks upon contact.

“Well…” You trail off, beginning to walk around the wall, keeping one hand on it. No matter where you touch, or how far along you walk, the wall doesn’t stop. You make it into the next section of the jungle, and around the corner, and still feel it there. When you make it back to Johanna and Peeta, you shake your head. “Sealed.”

“They’re inside?” Peeta asks. “Do you think they can hear us?”

“I’m going to say no.” Johanna grunts, swinging her axe into the wall repeatedly. “If we can’t hear the birds,” Her voice is strained, “Then we can’t hear them.” She stops, tossing the axe aside, it lands next to a bush. She sighs, “I guess we’re going to wait out here.”

Peeta doesn’t like this idea, you can tell by the way his face screws up, but he knows you don’t have any other choice. 

“I’m going to grab the wire, then.” You tell her.

“Speaking of it, come up with anything yet?” She asks, eyebrows raised.

“Almost.” You say, walking away from her.

When you get to the beach and find the wire, you don’t go back into the jungle right away. You stand beneath a patch of shade, staring at the Cornucopia, and the trees beyond it, squinting.

From what you can tell, Enobaria and Brutus aren’t on the beach or in the treeline, which means that they’re in those trees, somewhere. They must be fairly far in, where they’re resting. They likely won’t come out again until they’ve been sponsored and their wounds are healing. And even then, they’ll make sure you’re not on the beach, first.

Or maybe they are able to see you, and you just can’t see them.

If you were in their shoes, you’d be watching your every move right now to figure out what you’re doing. And if that’s the case, it doesn’t matter what you do with this wire, they’ll already know the plan. Really, it would just be an excuse to split Katniss and Peeta.

So, that’s what it’ll be.

The wire could be used for a number of things, you could probably make a trap out of it. There’s enough of it for you to bring it to the tree and back down to the beach, twice. The question is what Beetee would have used it for.

You close your eyes, listening to the waves on the beach, trying to remember how Beetee won his Games. You were talking to Mags about it the other day, she was telling you that it’s been thirty years since he won. Back then, he wasn’t the strongest tribute either, he had to make something to electrocute the last remaining tributes.

He wouldn’t really be able to do that now. He had the sources—the lightning at midnight and the water at the center. In the condition he was in before he got killed, he wouldn’t have been able to make the trip up to the tree, back down to the water, and up again to be out of the way of the electricity. And the chances of the wire being cut by the Careers isn’t that low, even in your situation now.

You’d need someone at the base of the tree, and someone unspooling the wire down to the water…

Your eyes pop open, it takes them a second to adjust to the sudden light. You stare at the water. This is what Beetee was going to do, wasn’t it? The wire acts as a conductor. If you hook it up to the tree at the right time when it strikes, it’ll fry everything in the water.

But what you want is to kill the Careers, in a way. The sand would have to be wet too, or at least damp. Which… Which will be the exact case when the wave hits at ten, and it’ll be cooler out, so the water won’t evaporate as quickly. If you bury the spool in the sand, it should have the entire beach covered and the water.

“Bingo.” You say, grabbing the coil.

You join the others back inside of the jungle, finding Peeta on the floor, forehead pressed to the invisible wall. Johanna’s pacing back and forth, arms crossed over her chest. When you get closer, you’re able to see that Katniss and Finnick are on the other side, both of them with their hands over their ears.

When a twig snaps beneath your weight, Johanna looks over. She lets out a sigh, shoulders slumping. “What took you so long?”

“Came up with a plan.” You tell her, dropping the wire and your sword next to one of her axes. 

“What plan?” Peeta asks, unmoving.

“On how to kill the remaining Careers.” You wink at Johanna, but it’s not flirtatious.

You know she understands when the crease appears between her eyebrows, giving you a slight nod. “Care to enlighten us?”

“When they’re out, I will. I don’t want to have to repeat myself.” You nod at the other two. “What’s going on in there?”

“I think it’s jabberjays.” Johanna says, pointing up at the trees behind the wall. “They’re fifty of them in the trees. Katniss tried killing them, of course it didn’t work.”

Your eyes land on Finnick, finding his muscles rigid. You crouch to get a better look at his face, there’s a streak of red from his nose, down his lips, and off his chin. “What happened to Finnick?”

“He ran face-first into the wall.” Peeta says. “It was a bloody nose.”

You hum, lowering yourself to the ground. “Hopefully it won’t be much longer.”

—

The wall suddenly breaks, Peeta falling forward. He catches himself on his hands, getting to his feet. He doesn’t even say anything, just scoops Katniss into his arms, and walks straight out of the jungle with her, leaving the arrows behind.

You sit up, looking over at Johanna to see that she’s staring at you. She tilts her head, “Do you want to try?”

You take in a breath, “I’ll let you know if it works.”

She nods, following after Katniss and Peeta, because someone needs to be watching over them. You get up, walking a few feet over to Finnick, before crouching down beside him. 

You lift a hand, hovering it over his back for a minute, and then change your mind, placing your elbows on your thighs to lean on them. He’s got his eyes closed, head down. He probably can’t even hear you. You don’t even know how he’ll react to being touched, much less by you.

You press your lips together, heart hurting at the sight of him. It’d be better if Johanna were here, she can talk to him. All you’ll do is upset him more. You grind your teeth, once again wishing that this wasn’t your relationship. As you go to stand up, the hands over his ears loosen, head beginning to lift.

He looks around in the jungle first, making sure the threat is gone. That’s when he notices you beside him, waiting. His eyes are watery, he swallows.

“Hey,” You murmur, “Are you okay?”

He stares at you, eyebrows drawing in.

You nod, “I’ll go get Johanna.”

Once again, you try to get to your feet, when he speaks, “Why?”

“Why… what?” You ask, pausing.

“Why would you get Johanna?” He asks.

You turn your head in the direction of the beach. Is he really going to make you say it? Does he want to see the pain it’ll cause you? Or does he think it’ll come out venomous?

When you look at him, you sigh, “Because I’m not really a comforting person to you, am I?”

He doesn’t answer your question, “Where are they?”

“They’re on the beach.” You tell him. “I figured out a plan that’ll work. I’ll tell you guys when you’re ready.”

“Do Johanna and Peeta know?” He asks.

You shake your head, “No.”

Neither of you move, staring at each other. And while you could stay here forever, you don’t allow yourself. You push on your knees, standing up. You offer your hand to him, but he moves it away, just like you figured he would.

He doesn’t say anything, walking past you to leave. You stare at the scene of dead birds in front of you, before you turn around, collecting yours and Johanna’s belongings, and going to join them on the beach. 

Katniss seems better, she’s talking to Peeta. Johanna is standing over them, she glances at Finnick when he passes by. She has to twist her body to see you standing in the treeline. You hand her the axe.

“It was a trick, Katniss. A horrible one. But we’re the only ones who can be hurt by it. We’re the ones in the Games. Not them.” Peeta says.

“You really believe that?” Katniss asks.

“I really do.” 

“Do you believe it, Finnick?” 

“It could be true. I don’t know.” He says, looking up at Johanna, ignoring you entirely. “Could they do that? Take someone’s regular voice and make it…”

Johanna makes a face, looking at you for help. You play with the piece of wire you’d unraveled, “I’m sure Beetee would know.”

“Peeta’s right.” Johanna then says. “The whole country adores Katniss’s little sister. If they really killed her like this, they’d probably have an uprising on her hands.” She deadpans. “Don’t want that, do they?” She scoffs, throwing her head back to shout, “Whole country in rebellion? Wouldn’t want anything like that!”

She shakes her head, wandering around the beach to pick up shells. When she finds a good few, she stops next to Finnick, holding her hand out. “I’m getting water.” Finnick drops the spile into her hand, and she begins toward the jungle.

Katniss grabs her hand. “Don’t go in there. The birds—”

“They can’t hurt me. I’m not like the rest of you. There’s no one left I love.” She says, shaking her hand free. You don’t miss the look she gives Finnick, and then you, as she disappears into the jungle. 

She comes back a couple minutes later with a shell of water, handing it over to Katniss first. She makes trips back and forth, letting each of you have some. She comes out one trip with a pile of arrows that she gives back to Katniss.

Finnick shakes his head, walking to the water. He stops a few feet in, and sits. You let the wire drop to the sand, tired of bringing it wherever you go. You don’t move from where you are, eyes fixated on his back.

“Who did they use against Finnick?” Peeta asks, curious.

Katniss is quiet. You’re expecting her to say Annie, because it makes the most sense, but when you look over, she’s eyeing you, and so is Peeta. 

“What?” You ask. “Was it Annie?”

“No, it wasn’t.” Katniss murmurs. “We thought we heard you.”

A loud laugh comes from you, unwarranted. The thought of Finnick caring about you enough for the Gamemakers to use you against him is funny. Really funny, actually. It must’ve been a walk in the park for him, listening to your pleas. A little gratifying, because he could pretend that you were getting what was coming for you.

But Katniss isn’t laughing, she’s serious. 

The humor leaves your smile, “It must’ve been his mother, that he was mistaken for me.”

“No, because we heard his mom, too. That first scream was yours.” She insists, “And he dropped everything to find you.”

“Finnick would never do that.” You tell her, voice cold. 

She doesn’t press it further, but the look in her eye is enough. She’s not lying to you, she’s telling the truth. She doesn’t gain anything from making something like that up.

You won’t believe it though. This is the same Finnick that told Johanna that he didn’t trust you, an hour and a half ago. There’s nothing that could’ve made him change his feelings in that time span.

Unless it didn’t.

Your eyes narrow at the back of Finnick’s head, hand tightening around your sword. 

A cannon blast keeps you from thinking about the subject any further, but the bubbling in your stomach is only getting hotter. Finnick gets up, coming to join you three, as well as Johanna, materializing out of the jungle. You stand together, watching a hovercraft appear over the next section, claw dipping in several times to retrieve all the pieces of one body. 

The beast.

This sparks Peeta to create another map, this time he’s able to fill in more than half of it. It starts with lightning, rain, and fog. It moves on to monkeys and jabberjays. He has to skip a section, and then writes beast. And the next one you have after six to seven is the wave at ten. This means you’re missing five of the other hours. 

The others begin to come back to life. Finnick begins to weave a water basket and a net to fish for dinner. While Katniss takes a swim and applies more ointment. By the time she’s done, Finnick has worked up a pile, so she sits on the edge of the water, cleaning them for him. 

It doesn’t take long for Katniss’s words to creep back into your mind, refusing to leave it be. Finnick cares about you, a thought that should have you excited, but it makes you uncomfortable. He has spent the last eight years making sure that you know that he hates you and couldn’t care less about what happens to you.

Yet here he is, supposedly dropping everything to save you. Possibly even leaving Katniss behind to do it. The Gamemakers must know something that you don’t, if they knew to use your voice. You want to assume that they thought Finnick was worried solely because you’re his district partner. Except, that doesn’t make sense either, because the two of you are notorious in the Capitol for being a pair of mentors that get into fights about how to handle things.

He has a lot of nerve.

The sun falls below the horizon, the moon rising to replace it in the sky. When they finish cleaning the fish, they bring it over, setting it in the middle of the circle for you to enjoy. The four of them begin to settle in the sand, you don’t move from where you stand.

The anthem begins to play, stopping them from digging in. The Capitol seal lights up the sky, and then it’s replaced by the faces. Cashmere, Gloss, Wiress, Beetee. The woman from Five, the morphling from Six, Blight, and the man from Ten. 

Eight tributes dead.

Strangely, this makes you think of your own Hunger Games. Where you managed to kill four people in the span of two hours, one of those being Rio, who was your district partner. By the end of the Games, you had eight kills under your belt. A third of the competition was taken out by you, a little fifteen year-old.

Once again, a factor that used to make Finnick sick. And now it doesn’t.

“They’re really burning through us.” Johanna says.

“Who’s left? Besides us five and District Two?” Finnick asks.

“Chaff.” Peeta says without missing a beat.

The sound of clinking fills the air, you look up to find a parachute coming down, teetering from side to side. It lands perfectly in the middle of the group, unfolding itself to reveal the steaming rolls.

“Do these look like District Three to you?” Finnick looks at Johanna.

“Yeah, look at the imprint.” She says, running her finger over the top of one. “How many are there?”

Finnick counts them, being sure to be thorough. “Twenty-four. How should we divide them?”

“Let’s each have three, and whoever is still alive at breakfast can take a vote on the rest.” Johanna says, causing Katniss to laugh.

You pull your sword out of the sand, swinging it up to rest the flat part of the blade on your shoulder. Finnick looks up at you, eyeing your stance. You step away from them, shaking your head.

“Sit down, (Y/n).” Finnick tells you.

“Why, so you can keep an eye on me?” You snap, crossing the treeline. “Come and get me, Finnick.”

You make it a few feet in, before you hear the snapping of branches behind you. You sigh, turning with raised eyebrows to see that Finnick took it as a challenge. You didn’t mean it that way. You didn’t want him to chase you.

“Get out here.” He tells you.

You walk backward, tilting your head at him. “I’m just making sure Enobaria and Brutus aren’t out here.”

“I don’t care.” He’s still walking toward you. “We’ll worry about that when we make camp.”

You stop, letting your sword down from your shoulder. When you look past him, you can see that there’s enough distance between him and the beach. There’s privacy to talk and sort out what you heard.

Your eyes land on him, “Katniss told me something,” You start, watching his eyebrows twitch, “About how you thought I was the one screaming for help.”

Finnick shakes his head, “I thought it was my mom.”

“Yeah, that’s what I said too.” You tell him, “But you said my name, and you dropped everything to go and get me.”

He sets his jaw, “So?”

“So,” The word is bitter, “What changed?”

He laughs, “Nothing, (Y/n). I went—”

“They used loved ones and family.” You cut him off. “You care about me, admit it.”

“I don’t.” He tells you. “I never have, and I never will.”

“You chased after the jabberjays thinking it was me, and you followed me in here because you’re worried that I’ll get caught by the Careers, admit it.”

“I don’t know what you think is happening, but whatever it is, it’s not true.” His voice wavers.

This is all the confirmation you need. “You want to know what I’m thinking right now?” You press your pointer finger to the middle of his chest. “That you’re not bothered by me anymore, and you haven’t been for a while. You’ve done a damn good job of hiding it up until now, but the jabberjays got you good.”

Finnick grabs your wrist, “That’s not true.”

“What changed, Finnick?” You insist.

“Nothing, because I don’t have feelings for you.” He snaps. “The reason why I came in here is because we want to move camp to the ten sector once the wave happens, I just didn’t want you to get lost out here and think we abandoned you, making you think it’s a free-for-all.”

He lets go of your wrist, face screwed tightly, as he leaves you here. You watch him go back to the beach, while you take several breaths, feeling the pit in your stomach grow.

What have you done?

---

this is part of my 3k celebration!!

[ssweeterthanfiction]

finnick odair and silent ways he tells you he loves you before dating?

You Are In Love

content warnings: mentions of panic attacks, implied trafficking of victors

Finnick Odair, who has been there for you ever since you won your games. He visits your house everyday, flowers and a small bag of muffins in hand, that same boyish grin on his face when he sees you.

Finnick Odair, who goes with you to Victor's Village private beach, watching as you collect seashells, admiring how pretty you look in the sun.

Finnick Odair, who constantly brings you small gifts and knicknacks. He's like a crow, always bringing you shiny interesting items from the market and from the Capitol. He even brings you a rare item to District 4, a pretty little snowglobe.

Finnick Odair, who is by your side anytime you feel under the weather. He makes you soup, makes sure you stay hydrated, makes sure you're warm and comfortable, never letting you lift a single finger.

Finnick Odair, who accompanies you to the market, carrying all your bags/baskets back to your house, insisting they aren't at all heavy.

Finnick Odair, who is always by your side during Capitol events. Always holding you hand, hooking his arm with yours, kissing your knuckles softly, and always finds a way to dance with you. And whenever he does, it always seems lik your both in your own world, like the snowglobe he brought you from one of his trips to the Capitol, protected by a delicate bubble of glass.

Finnick Odair who helps you through panic attacks. He holds you close to his chest, presses his lips to your forehead, strokes your hair and whispers comforting words into your ears.

"It's okay angel."

"I'm right here."

"You're safe with me."

Finnick Odair, who protects you from the horrors of the Capitol and the citizens, making a deal with Snow that he'll take on more clients under the condition that you won't be harmed in any way.

Finnick Odair, who realizes he is more in love with you than he originally thought.

Finnick Odair, who is the best boyfriend ever. He is your soulmate, you are his. You both are in love. True love.

[writersblockiskillingme]

hi love!!!! your work is so amazing i love how you write

i was wondering if you could do a corionlanus x fem reader where she’s his tribute and is about to be killed in the game but it’s kind of like that scene in you where she says “no don’t kill me im pregnant” and it’s his reaction and everyone watching trying to get them to end the games? i’d love to see what you could do w that feel free to change anything u want!

Songbird's Plan | Coriolanus Snow

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x fem!tribute!reader

Summary: The presence of a song bird can change everything for one who appreciates them or "if it weren't for the baby" TBOSAS edition.

Warning/s: a bit of angst, Coriolanus Snow being in love, nickname (songbird), mentions of death, mentions of pregnancy, short fic, possible grammar and spelling mistakes

Author's note: It's finally here. Hope you enjoy.

The moment Coriolanus Snow met you he knew that he would do everything in his power to protect you from harm no matter what.

Of course he knew that that was going to be a difficult challenge because you were his tribute.

You were supposed to be in the games, you were supposed to literally fight for your life. There was always the chance that you would die, but Coriolanus didn't allow himself to think too long of this outcome. He knew that it would simply drive him to compete and utter madness.

So once the rebels bombed the arena, once he was out of the hospital and once he made sure that his tribute was okay, he sneaked into the arena the night before the games.

He spend more than half of the night searching for the places for his little songbird to hide. He did everything he could, he truly did, and he truly did though that he would be prepared for everything.

Yet as he found himself leaning towards the screen in front of him that displayed the scene of you being attacked by Coral he felt himself automatically freeze. He felt helpless.

He felt like he let you down and that ate him inside out.

Coriolanus felt like his heart was going to simply burst out of his chest as he watched, his throat tightening.

He watched Coral getting closer to you. He felt useless.

But there was something that both of you underestimated. There was a certain connection between you two. Both Coriolanus and you were smart, willing to do anything to survive.

Once Coriolanus remembered that, he forced himself to move. He could probably wipe out Coral with those badly made drones, but he needed some distraction because if Coral sees them, it's over. He could hit you.

"Please, don't!" Your voice broke out of the screen, Coriolanus felt himself flinch at the desperation behind it.

He watched your helpless form glazing away from Coral like you were on thin ice.

Coriolanus felt like he would scream put as Coral raised her weapon against you. But that's when you yelled out something that made his heart completely stop.

"No!" Your forceful voice shouted. "Don't kill me, I'm pregnant!"

Coral stopped for a moment. Coriolanus stopped for a moment. In fact, it seemed like the entire world stopped for a moment.

Coriolanus couldn't move, his mouth slightly agape as he watched you breathe heavily as you waited for Coral to move.

"Stop the games!" Tigris shouted in despair.

Coriolanus felt himself turn around quickly as he watched the mob of students standing up, waving his hands in air as they shouted to stop the games.

Coriolanus quickly turned to the screen and watched Coral still trying to gain her composure. He moved quickly, his body quicker than his mind.

If he doesn't do anything now, it would be over for you.

So as he send at least ten drones into the arena, successfully killing Coral, and as he watched your face twist in relief, and as he heard the cheers behind him he realized that maybe the hope wasn't lost after all.

His little songbird was truly a genius.

->

->

->

TAGLIST:

@hellonheels-x @especiallythewomenandthechildren @prettyinsatiable @caroline-books @runningfrom2am @10ava01 @thecrowdedstreetin1944

[atelierlili]

Everlark kissing art request?

“Don’t let him take you away from me.”

Sorry! The last few requests have been too cute and I was in my Mockingjay angst yesterday so here we are!

Thanks so much for the requests anon 💗💕

[darby-rowe]

imagine coryo cumming in his pants randomly in class because he just had a thought of you bent over for him and now he has to hide the wet stain

ANON YOURE A GENIUS

18+ | nsfw | mdni cw fem!reader, not proofread

underneath his cool and pompous exterior, coriolanus was still, at his core, a horny teenage boy.

which is why he tries so hard to not think of you during class: your smile, your laugh, the smell of your perfume, how intelligent you were. he thought about you in the academy's long red pleated skirt and how it fell just below your knees. and protruding from your skirt came your legs clad in tights, and your pretty little shoes that made the muscles of your calves flex every time you walked.

coriolanus could already feel his mind slipping to more lewd thoughts, like the time he saw slightly bent over a desk, your hands grabbing onto the edges as you were deep in conversation with a friend. he thought about how you'd look if you were bent over at a complete 90-degree angle, and he stood behind you gripping your hips. he imagined that sexy smirk of yours as you'd crane your neck to look him in the eyes, and your ass would slowly begin to hump against his hardened cock pressed painfully against his slacks.

"coryo..." his name escaped your lips like steam rising from a boiling pot of water. his mind led down a dangerous route, as he became hyperfixated on how your ass would feel grinding against his crotch, the delicious melody of your moans, and the filth that would escape his lips as he watched you be so lewd for him. you would keep going, and going, humping, grinding—

coriolanus gripped his mouth as he felt his cock throb and spurt out warm ropes of cum in his bright red pants, his body slightly jerking forward from the unexpected release. he looked down, and to his horror, was a generously sized wet patch right on his crotch. immediately, he took his leather satchel and placed it on his lap, feeling his face burn a deep scarlet.

he flinched as you tapped him on the shoulder, whipping his head to look at you and your adorable look of concern. "are you okay?" you whispered, trying not to interrupt the ongoing lecture from the professor at the front of the room.

coriolanus swallowed hard, awkwardly shifting on his seat. "yes," he choked out, forcing a nonchalant smile. "i'm fine. thank you for asking,"

and he could have survived the rest of the lecture if it weren't for your beautiful smile and the softness of your touch on his arm. "i'm here if you need anything, okay?"

at that moment, coriolanus could have sworn you were doing this shit to him on purpose.

[alwaysspeakshermind]

Who was the worst in The Hunger Games, snow or coin?

Why?

Thank you. @curiousnonny

Oh, man.

I have a *lot* of feelings on this particular subject (one of my favorite things about THG trilogy is that it places in the antagonist role two good examples of my most loathed types of villains: politicians kidding but not really), so thanks for the ask!

Coin:

While I personally despise her subtle, lay-low/don't-strike-until-you-see-the-whites-of-their-eyes approach, I respect her commitment to winning, and I love that she was the one who got to unseat Snow.

That being said...I can't forgive her for the win-at-all-costs mindset that led her to use some of the most morally-reprehensible tactics I can think of when it comes to fighting (torturing citizens, trying to send a possible political rival to their death, sending the family member of said possible rival to an all but certain doom simply to eliminate the rival's will to live, treating The Other Side's children as expendable, etc.). I think she represents one of the most dangerous types of villains you see (both in fiction and in real life) because she presents herself as the sane, moderate, People's Champion type of leader who stands in opposition to oppression and brutality, but the regime she presents is simply severe and restrictive in different ways she's not advertising, and she is every bit as willing to sit back and watch people die as long as they are not her people...also, she truly doesn't care who she steps on, kicks aside, or ruins in her (quiet) quest for power.

[I also have this theory that she's named Coin because she and Snow have this two-sides-to-the-same-coin duality and we're meant to understand that while she's coming at things from a different angle than Snow, she has the same hunger for power and ruthless desire to maintain stability no matter the human cost.]

Snow:

[Another quick side note: I am a huge proponent of TBOSAS. It's my favorite villain origin story (Marissa Meyer's Fairest is probably the only other book that comes close for me), and I personally think it's Suzanne's Collins' best work and everyone should read it because it shows the fine line/slippery slope between a mindset of understandable self-preservation and the sort of arrogance-driven inhumanity that leads people into committing atrocities against each other or standing back and allowing the atrocities to happen. I will literally never NOT recommend this book but, that being said, I'm not going to reference Snow's actions in this book as they occur outside the realm of THG trilogy.]

While I allow a grudging respect for his logic, strategic efficiency, and commitment to being straightforward/open with Katniss about his dislike for her, I hate Snow's cruelty with a burning passion, and his utter contempt for people he deems "lesser" makes my blood absolutely boil. Yes, pragmatism is a thing. Yes, it is difficult being a leader. Yes, leaders do sometimes face a choice between saving the lives of many at the cost of a few.

But the thing about Snow is that he is simply intent on maintaining power whatever the (human) cost and to me, that crosses a line. No, he isn't the creator of the Games, but he does hold the power to end them. Does he end them? No. Instead, he not only chooses to keep them going, but deliberately finds ways to change the rules in his own favor, thus making an already-unfair, practically hopeless situation that much more unfair and hopeless. To intimidate the districts/instill fear in all citizens outside the Capitol, he makes sure they remember that they are only allowed to exist because of the Capitol's mercy, and that if they want to be allowed to keep that existence, they will have to abide by the Capitol's terms. Sending children into the Games as a form of punishment would be barbaric enough if it were just after the districts' uprising but, as we know from the books, that's not even the case...the children who are being killed in the games are the descendants of the original rebel districts, so forcing them to pay for the supposed sins of their grandparents/possible great-grandparents is beyond evil.

Also, there's this other thing his actions ultimately engineer/shape, and that's the twisted Capitol reality. Like all smart-but-evil dictators, he doesn't just rely on the weeding out of his enemies/the intimidation of the group he has declared "lesser." He also uses the Capitol citizens and their (very natural, very human) desire for peace and prosperity to create allies for himself by reinforcing this idea of Us vs Them, by drawing a distinction between Capitol children (precious, must be protected at all costs) and District children (expendable, animalistic, Other™ ). It's not a new tactic; it's one all kinds of groups/armies/organizations/governments use to engender hate and distrust, but it's a highly effective one in a world like the Capitol, where everyday life is so shiny and fun and distracting that it's easy for people to detach themselves from the reality that they're watching 24 children murder each other every year. And the thing about that, even if the Capitol citizens don't know it (or pretend not to know it), is that Snow encouraging them to celebrate the Games and view the districts as less than human is also costing the Capitol citizens their humanity in return (aka, panem et circenses, where you shelve or hand over your morality in exchange for food/comfort/entertainment etc.). So, altogether, while Snow is not actively getting his hands dirty by killing people himself (excluding those poison deaths, possibly), he is routinely arranging the murders of innocents, recruiting and corrupting (or destroying) everyone he possibly can, and he's doing it all in the name of peace.

All of those things combined pretty much enrages me, so ultimately, my opinion boils down to this:

Both Coin and Snow are effective leaders and terrible people whose desire for power and control push them into crossing lines that should not be crossed. But out of the two, Snow is the worst.

[phoward89]

Banner by me, dividers by @saradika-graphics

Based on this ask

Love Is A Losing Game

The avox stood against the wall, waiting for you to beckon, while you sat in your sunroom with your longtime best friend, Livia. You were at a small table drinking tea and listening to her complain about her toddler, Plutarch.

“Ugh. I swear, I can't even go to the powder room without him following me.” Reaching for a biscuit, your dirty blonde friend sighed, “I told Hilarious that we need to hire a nanny, but he said no.”

She took a small bite of her biscuit as you sipped on your tea. You didn't know why she was so upset about her toddler wanting to spend time with her. And you told her so too.

“You just don't understand how demanding motherhood is, Y/N. Just you wait and see.” Pointing to your round belly, Livia factually remarked, “In a few more months when you pop out Coriolanus’ little brat you'll be singing a different tune.”

“Don't call Cassian Xandros a little brat.” You snippily ordered your friend, causing her to just roll her eyes at you. Setting down your teacup, you decided to change the subject to something that you needed to get off your chest; something that's been eating away at your mind. “I think Coryo's having an affair.”

“He's only been president for a few months, Y/N. If word got out, well, it'd be scandalous and I'm sure his political career would be dead in the water.” Livia told you while nibbling on her lemon butter biscuit. “Do you know with whom?”

“No, but I know he has to be having an affair, Livia. I mean he comes and goes at all hours and half the time he's not even coming to bed; we haven't slept together in a while too.”

“Oh no, now that is a problem.” The dirty blonde socialite sighed. “I bet it's Clemensia Dovecote that he's cheating with. You don't know, since you were a couple grades below us at the Academy, but they were always walking into the school linked arm in arm. Even though they denied it, they looked like a couple back then.” Livia bluntly informed you, picking up her teacup and sipping it.

“Really? I didn't know that.” You honestly told your friend. Reaching for your own teacup, you revealed the name of the person you thought your husband had a thing for back in his Academy days. “Coryo was always with Sejanus back then; I always got the vibe that they were a little bit more than just friends.”

“Oh I hope not. He was district.” Livia spat out; the thought of the president having a past love affair with a district person making her skin crawl.

If only she knew about what went down between him and Lucy Gray. Oh, she'd shit her pants if she knew about that.

You know, of course, since he told you about it after a year of dating. When you had to all but pull his teeth to get him to reveal why he refused to tell you that he loved you; show you anything other than lust and his OCD tendencies.

It didn't bother you.

Correction, him having Lucy Gray as his ex and his failed first love didn't bother you, but the number that she did on him- now that’s what bothered you.

She fucked his head up pretty bad; took you a long time to unfuck it up too. To get him to be able to confess his love to you.

But somewhere deep inside of your soul, you always feared that Coryo was just telling you what you wanted to hear. That he didn't truly love you; that he could turn to somebody else once he got bored of you.

“Yea…but they were close friends. Like brothers” You reminded Livia. “And his death hit Coriolanus hard.”

That was an understatement. Your husband still had nightmares about his fellow comrade’s death. It happened a decade ago, but he was still haunted some nights by nightmares. Those nights you usually had to ride his cock to calm him down so he’d be able to go back to sleep.

He never talked about the nightmares, other than the one time he told you that it was about Sejanus’ death. You never pried, knowing that the Plinth boy's execution was a taboo topic for Coriolanus.

The socialite rolled her eyes, only to suggest, “If you think he's having an affair then you should wait up for him tonight and confront him.” Giving you a look from over her teacup, she added in, “It's what I would do.”

Coriolanus was exhausted. No, wait, take that back- he was FUCKING exhausted.

Between trying to clean up the fucking mess that older then dirt President Ravenstill left for him and trying to ensure a smooth transition of head gamemaker duties to his successor (a recent University grad that sadly didn't know his ass from a hole in the ground), he was stretched too thin.

Burning the candle at both ends as one might say.

He was barely sleeping; worse he was barely able to spend anytime with you.

You were 6 months pregnant with his first child.

A son.

He felt guilty for being in his office on the opposite side of the presidential palace or at the Citadel, but he didn't have a choice. The games along with trying to keep the country afloat was his top priority.

As much as he wanted to spend his late afternoons and evenings with you, he couldn't. And he wanted nothing more than to fuck you dumb on his dick every night too, but sadly he was just too tired anymore for that either.

When the new Head Gamemaker calls up in the middle of the night frantically asking what to do if an intern falls into a mutt tank…well…yea…that's when Coriolanus knows he has to do two jobs instead of just one.

He's stuck puppeteering the new head gamemaker *cough* telling him step by step how to do is damn job since he fucking fudged his job application and has shit for brains *cough* and running a country that's national bank account’s lower than it should be *cough* looks like President Ravenstill and his cabinet were embezzling funds or something cause the numbers aren't adding up *cough*.

“Yes, well, if you need any more assistance on this matter don't hesitate to call.” Coriolanuse tightly told the Head Gamemaker. The man was grating on his nerves. Before the unqualified idiot could utter a word, the president said goodbye and hung up.

Hung up with a firm, loud, clunk since he was so tired and aggravated.

Unfortunately, the president was always tired anymore. He was even too tired to fuck you these days, which was truly depressing for him since your Coryo felt you were even more beautiful now that your belly's round with his child.

Coriolanus felt that your pregnancy makes you look radiant. Your skin had a glow to it, he felt you look ethereal.

Your tits were full from the milk your body was making in order to feed your son once he was born; he loves your milk heavy boobs. Coriolanus Snow’s a tits and ass man; so your boobs going up by 2 sizes was heaven for him. The president enjoys sucking and massaging them in his large, calloused hands while you ride his cock. Burying his face in them, peppering kisses in your cleavage.

Something his exhaustion has been keeping him from doing.

Also, your ever growing belly (full of the precious life you created during a very passionate and lustful night 6 months prior) made his chest swell with a burning pride. Coriolanus loves kissing your stretch marks and running his hands all over your belly.

He also enjoys whispering to your belly, telling your growing son all kinds of father-son secrets.

But he’s been too tired and tied up with his never ending work to do that ritual.

Half the time he was passing out on the sofa in his office before he could even make it to your room; the other half of the time he was sliding into bed in the wee hours while you were in a deep sleep.

He hated it.

But he has to endure it because he refuses to have the games flop during his first year as President of Panem.

When Coryo dragged his feet into your large, ornate bedroom he wasn't expecting you to be up, waiting for him. He assumed you'd be asleep, like every other night.

“It's nearly 2 in the morning, Y/N. Why aren't you sleeping? You know you need proper sleep in your condition, my darling rose.” Your husband lectured you, tiredly fumbling to untie his tie.

You decided to do what LIvia suggested. Wait for your husband and confront him. So, when he shuffles into your room, a sight for sore eyes, with the nerve to lecture you about being up, you lost it.

Your eyes narrowed at the president as you snipped out, “Coriolanus, I know you're cheating on me. Who is she? Is it Clemensia Dovecote or somebody else?”

Pulling his tie off and tossing it to the side, he looked at you as if you had lobsters crawling out of your head. You’re accusing him of having an affair. Seriously?

“With how I’m spread too thin, darling, where would I ever find the time for an affair?” Coriolanus chuckled.

He thought this was funny, oh how dare he!

“This isn't funny, Coriolanus! You're coming and going at all hours; we never sleep together anymore. Who is she?!” You yelled at the top of your lungs, watching your husband unbutton his waistcoat and take it off.

The platinum blonde’s long fingers numbly unbuttoned his shirt. His tone was flat and tired as he gave you the blunt answer of, “The she that's taking all of my attention off of you, my love, is the shaky finances of Panem and the Hunger Games.”

All of the air was knocked out of your lungs upon hearing your husband's words. All you could do was blink. “What?” you whispered in disbelief.

Coryo's shirt hit the floor, in the pile his red waistcoat and tie was in. Toeing out of his shoes, he sighed, “Being president and passing the baton for the games to an under qualified head gamemaker, unfortunately, has taken up all my time.” Unbuckling his belt and pulling down his deep crimson pants, he offered up a sincere apology of, “I’m sorry, my darling rose, that my neglect made you think, even for a moment, that I’m being unfaithful to you.” His pants pooled around his long, pale legs, and he gracefully stepped out of them. “Y/N, I truly did not mean for you to feel such a way, my love.”

Watching your husband pull off his socks and toss them to the side, you cried tears of joy. “I forgive you; I'm just happy that it's work taking up your attention and not some whore.”

Coriolanus tiredly made his way over to the king-sized bed you shared and climbed into it. Pulling you into his arms, he let out a puzzled scoff of, “Clemmie? Really, of all people to accuse me of having an affair with it's her?”

“I didn't accuse you of cheating with her; that was actually Livia this afternoon when I told her that I suspected you of having an affair.” You informed your husband as he pulled the blankets over the both of you.

“You told that bitch you thought I was cheating on you?!” Coryo exclaimed, his nostrils flaring; baby blues wide in utter horror.

“Don't call Livia a bitch, Coriolanus.” You reprimanded your husband, only to remind him that, “She's my best friend.”

“I don't know how you're best friends with that shrew, darling.” Coriolanus mumbled mostly to himself, even though you heard him. His large, calloused hand rubbed your ever growing baby bump softly. “Telling Livia your ill founded fears was a mistake. She'll just tell that political reject husband of her’s; he'll be calling up Capitol News 6 with a juicy insider story about the unfaithful president.” Coryo’s tongue popped angrily. “My fake affair’s going to be the the main news headliner tomorrow morning, my darling rose.”

“No, it won't, Coryo.” You assured your husband since you had too much faith in your best friend.

Your husband on the other hand didn't have faith in Livia Cardew-Heavensbee, at all. No, he didn't trust her after the temper tantrum she through when her mother informed her that he was courting you, General Prometheus Byzantine’s step-daughter, and had refused to meet with the Cardews regarding a money match.

Coriolanus never told you about that because he didn't want to taint your friendship with the dirty blonde shrew, who only married Hilarious because she couldn't have him: the adoptive heir to the Plinths fortune.

But now maybe it was time to tell you. Maybe it was time to taint and ruin a girlhood friendship of yours.

Only to ensure that you wouldn't trust anyone that didn't carry the Snow name.

Yes, the only people you could trust were him and Tigris. He was even leery about Tigris’ new lover, Aleka. Eh, but that was because his spies haven't been able to dig up enough information on them for the president to decide whether or not they were trustworthy.

But, he's sure that after he tells you the truth about Livia that you'll be rethinking that friendship.

And when (not if) that article hits the news as the big headliner, he'll make sure to invite Hilarious over for drinks.

Drinks that only one of them will enjoy.

Snow lands on top and he'll make sure that anybody who slanders his good name or makes you believe he's an unfaithful man, when he's actually the most devoted and faithful husband in all of Panem, chokes on their own blood.

Tags: @kuroosbby001, @purriteen, @poppyflower-22, @meetmeatyourworst, @whipwhoops, @bxtchopolis, @readingthingsonhere,@savagenctzen, @ryswritingrecord, @erikasurfer, @tulips2715, @universal-s1ut, @thesmutconnoisseur, @squidscottjeans, @sudek4l, @wearemadeofstardust0, @mashiromochi, @gracieroxzy, @belcalis9503, @shari-berri, @aoi-targaryen , @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch, @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons, @qoopeeya, @mfnqueen1

[coryosmin]

pervy best friend!coryo convincing innocent!reader that if he just puts the tip in she’ll still be a virgin and that as his best friend she really needs to help him because he’s just so hard :( (i imagine that reader is always touchy with him and maybe she’s sitting in his lap or something and he gets hard…)

nsfw | mdni | fem!reader

imagining that you are coryo’s best friend and you’ve always been so touchy feely with him because that’s what you thought was normal. you always cuddled with coryo, sitting on his lap, held his hand in public. in fact, everyone thought you and coryo were dating, not best friends. coryo didn’t mind that though. not at all.

you were always so innocent and adorable to him. you’ve never been touched by another man, always saying that you wanted to save yourself for someone you love. of course, you do know about sex. you had paid attention to your sex ed courses obviously. but even so, you’ve never seen a penis, never touched one, and coryo knew you only have kissed someone. you guys were each other’s first kisses after all.

you and coryo were sat on your couch, cuddling. you were sat on his lap, your knees on either side of coryo as you laid your head on his shoulder. his arms were wrapped around you, holding you closely as the two of you were just talking about minuscule things. you would move slightly, adjusting your position or whatever when you accidentally graze coriolanus’s crotch, causing him to inhale sharply and his cock to harden.

“oh!” you exclaimed, feeling his hard on pressing against you. “sorry about that,” you blushed.

coriolanus simply smirked. “well, darling, since you caused it, it’s only fair that you make it go away,” he exclaimed, looking up at you with his pretty blue eyes. “as that’s what best friends would do.”

your eyes widened at coryo’s words. “but i-i’ve never done that sort of thing, coryo,” you said, biting your lip. “i’m still a virgin.”

coriolanus’s heart melted as he looked at how blushy and nervous you were. unable to help it, he grinding against you a bit, causing you to gasp from the friction. “mm but you caused this,” he murmured. “you’d still be a virgin if i just stuck the tip in.” coryo brought his hand up to your face caressing your cheek.

you thought about it for a moment. his logic made sense. technically, she would still be a virgin if it’s just in a little bit and not a lot. coryo always knew best, right? hesitantly, you nodded your head. “okay,” you whispered.

coriolanus smiled. “yeah?”

“yeah.”

which then he unzipped his pants, pulling his cock out. you looked down at it, eyes widening at how big it was. you couldn’t help but feel aroused at the sight of your best friend’s cock. you licked your lips, moving up slightly to lift your dress up and push your panties to the side.

coriolanus let out a hot breath as he guided his cock to your pussy, causing you both to let out small moans. the tip rubbed against your wetness, spreading it around before he eased the tip inside your hole. “you’re so wet, darling,” he murmured, looking down at your pussy.

you bit your lip, nodding your head. coryo began moving his hips, only fucking up into you with the tip of his cock. it was like teasing you. you wanted him to go deeper, wanted to feel him truly inside of you. you looked at coryo, his cheeks flushed as his eyes were fixated on your pussy to make sure he didn’t go past the tip.

you let out a small whine, easing yourself down his cock a bit more. the stretch hurt a bit but you didn’t mind it, you wanted to feel him. coriolanus let out a groan, feeling your pussy around his member. “you’re so tight,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around your waist. coriolanus continued to move his hips inside of you, his cock hitting your g-spot.

you moaned, reaching a hand to coryo’s hair. “is so good, coryo,” you said.

coriolanus continued fucking up into you, letting out his own moans. “i know, baby,” he said shakily. he looked into your eyes, bringing a hand to cup the back of your head and leaning you down to kiss him. you kissed coryo back, moving your hips in sync with his.

and soon coryo pulled away from the kiss to throw his head back in pleasure, letting out an “oh fuck, i’m gonna cum,” before cumming inside of you. you moaned at the feeling, clenching around coryo’s cock. and when he finished, he looked up at you and you looked down at him. you both were breathing heavily.

“i don’t think im a virgin anymore,” you muttered, causing coriolanus to laugh.

“i’m afraid not,” he said, caressing your hair. and when you eased off of his cock, he knew you didn’t cum.

so he definitely helped you by eating you out. teehee

[gladiatorcunt]

i’m thinking about modern!coryo again… ‘n the way he’d just love humiliating you. when you’ve been particularly bratty (let’s be real, any time you tell him no he thinks you’re being defiant… no matter the circumstances), he loves to shove your face into the mattress so your ass is facing him, and grip your hips, teasing his cock against your entrance until you’re whining and begging for him to fuck you. but he doesn’t! he just lets his cock slap against your clit and tease your slick hole until you’re soaking your panties. his favourite thing though, is filming you take his cock, because even though he’d never let anybody see the videos (besides maybe his friends), he gets off on the way you’re whining for him to put the phone away as he fills you up, pearly cum sliding down your soft thighs. but he won’t, because he just loves the way you’re absolutely humiliated at the thought of somebody seeing how much of a whore you are for him

CW: anal, sejanus mention (throuple au tease), typical coryo type warnings, yandere/possessive & obsessive behavior, gn reader but there is feminization (reader calls themselves a "good girl", coryo calls your pussy "sweet girl" & assigns it she/her pronouns), blood (coryo has a fantasy of you tearing), accidental slight pet play/dumbification, my modern coryo's typical inability to understand/care about poor(er) people, the ending is inspired by ghostface's finishing move in dbd, implied plus sized reader (who's afab) he loves you really.

So true, you could do something as small as say “i want to be alone in the bathroom for 5 minutes” and he’d lose his shit. Something about that arrogant rich boy behavior turned up to 100 because he’s inherently a psycho….. like he loves you deeply but wdym his prized possession has a mind of their own (if you just decided to do everything he wants, he’d support you making your own decisions). His whole vibe was being untouchable and unavailable but now it’s coming apart. Like do you know how much he planned to hoe around when his family inevitably made him get married??? But now you’ve fucked it all up and made him feel like he’s constantly writhing around in every circle of hell fr.

So yeah, he can’t take it if he feels like you aren’t “putting in as much effort” as he is. And i don’t mean that he’d be pissed if you’re not cooking or cleaning, i mean that he’d be peeved if you weren’t matching his energy (batshit balls to wall insane). He’ll do a little cute open palm wave like “Hi, baby 🥰” when you look at him over your shoulder with tears in your eyes. King of false sympathy with all the cooing and mocking your facial expression (which you wouldn’t even have to make if you were behaving). His weird ass is completely naked even though he made you keep your clothes on, and he tore a hole in your leggings with his teeth for easy access.

He’ll put his dick in between your ass cheeks and fuck you like that until the sheets are soaked because you got so desperate (you nearly pissed yourself). He’ll press the head against your asshole and see how deep he can get before you realize that he’s using the wrong whole. Sometimes he wishes that he’d tug his cock from your hole to find the whole thing covered in blood. If you catch on him, he’ll just say that it was an accident. But to be real, you knew immediately. It just gets you hot watching him go on his little power trips. The pleasure of letting your rabid dog off of his leash but he thinks it’s his idea does something to you that you’re currently ignoring.

The iPhone camera you can see from the standing mirror by your bed doesn’t exactly catch you off guard. Coryo’s got a fair few videos of you getting backshots in his family’s limo and even more of him devouring your pussy anytime and anywhere he pleases. Your stomach rolls with shame but your pussy clenches in arousal. A big part of being able to handle being his s/o means having the ability to straddle the line between calling his bluff and baring your neck in submission. So you just whine pleadingly and let your head fall forward onto the pillow.

You'd never admit that there are times where you'd be perfectly happy if your ass was all he fucked; that on mornings when the sunlight beams down on you as Coryo pushes the velvet curtains from the large penthouse windows and all you can see out of the eye that's not smothered in the pillow is your boyfriend in a pair of gray sweatpants, you feel feral with the need to swallow his cock all the way to the base and lie there forever.

A "love tap" to your clit brings you out of your thirsting. When all you do is gasp, you receive a firmer strike.

"Don't tell me you're already out of it? Did I make my smart baby all stupid already?"

"Hngh~ Uh huh, don't stop..." You beg, the carefully maintained image of the prim and proper perfect student crumbling under his touch.

Your need to be praised and to have male approval can really be a curse sometimes, because outside of the bedroom you don't let yourself be as willing of a kept pet as Coryo wants. But as soon as you're alone, you gratefully sink into the safe space he creates for you where you can just... let go and have someone else think for you for a change.

It feels like bolts of electricity go through you when two of his fingers start to trace letters on your pussy lips. It makes you think of his family crest branded on the gates of their mansions.

C-O-R-I-O-L-A-N-U-S S-N-O-W, pinching your clit after every letter. (training)

"That's okay, I like you dumb anyway. Can't use that big brain to think about anything else but me when I get this dick in you." He says and wags it in his hands at you like it's a treat.

The bed creaks as he sits back on his heels, and like a good girl you parts your legs as far as they can go.

Welcome Home.

The heavy weight of his palms clutching your hips calms any lingering anxiety, his nails bite into your flesh but you know he'll be licking and nuzzling the marks soothingly later. He's told you how beautiful you are in the beginning, that he relishes in the way you give up all tension to him with a sigh; that one of his favorite versions of you is the you that shuts down. Has him feeling like the "family man" he always vowed to never turn into.

"Now, you know the drill, take a deep breath..." He pants, somehow already pussy drunk, "It's going to be a tight fit, dove."

His grip tightens as he feeds his tip to your clenching hole, you soak in the mutters of 'aw, I missed you too, sweet girl.' You know he wasn't talking to you.

Your breath hitches when you start taking him past the tip, and like always, Coryo wraps a hand around the nape of your neck and massages it to distract you from the inevitable sting of pain. It'll always be there no matter how much of a mess he's made of your cunt.

"That's my dumb bunny, biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiig stretch." He grunts, dragging his words out when the thickest part of his cock comes to greet you.

You moan when he takes his other hand off of your hip to reach it around and rub your twitching clit. More juices drip from your hole, making the remaining inches slide in a lot easier.

You hear shuffling and the bed creaks as Coryo leans over to grab something off the nightstand. He quickly finds what he's looking for and settles back into position behind you. He gropes one of your ass cheeks and gives it a couple long squeezes before he jiggles it, letting out a low whistle when he does it again.

You mewl impatiently, clenching your pussy around his long cock. He doesn't give you what you want, however, until almost a minute later. He jostles his hips against your ass, showing off for the camera that's focused down on where the two of you are connected.

Coryo's head shoots up when he hears you sniffle, and even though he could tease about how much of a needy whore you are, you're HIS needy whore so he only smiles.

"Alright, alright. 'M sorry, petal, I know your pussy's gagging for this dick. I'll give her what she wants, don't you worry."

Your mouth falls open on a silent moan as he leisurely drags his length out of you until the tip catches on your entrance; being forced to be broken down and rebuilt around it until you both turn to ash. He has never wanted anything more than he wants you to somehow grow to only survive of his own body. His blood would be your water, his very dna would be your floss, his bone marrow would soothe your raw throat, his organs would be your snacks, his bones would be your jewelry, his teeth would be your little trinkets, and his surrounding flesh would be your every meal until you could eat no more.

You have no idea how much of your boyfriend's time has been spent making sure he tastes delectable, in every way.

Like those people from Pompei who are forever immortalized in the arms of their lover, chained to the passage of time but the eyes that dust them off are the only things about them that change.

You made him watch Titanic once, saying that your MasterChef binge could be paused for a night. He huffed but complied, and gun to his head, he wiped his tears on the arm of the couch before you could notice that he was crying. Rose could've done a little more to help Jack in his opinion (they both could have fit on the wood), he'd have never just let you go like that. But there was something in the way all they really had in the world was each other, in how calm the old couple was as the water creeped into their room; because they were together, and to Coryo, death after a very very long and happy life is an experience that's meant to be shared (no matter the circumstances).

His body has been moving on autopilot during his usual mid-sex spiral monologue. There's ringing in his ears as he tunes back into your hiccup-y whines and high-pitched moans (he loved when you stopped being so fucking shy). His thrusts had gradually sped up until they were at the speed they were now, your bodies now making wet smacking sounds as his dick pulverizes your pussy. He had been so lost in thought that he nearly dropped his phone, but he breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that it was still recording.

He removes his death grip on your ass cheek to slap your swaying tits one after the other. He can never resist showing love to the chub of your tummy either, so he hits that too.

"Yeah, you like that, bunny?" He sneers, tonguing your ear and gnawing at the lobe as the excess saliva trickles down the valley of your breasts.

It's a rhetorical question, of course you do.

But you answer, using your words like he often "urges" you to.

"Like it so much, Coryo.... fuck!"

His thrusts become even faster, and he gathers as much of your hair in his hand as possible. Your moans cut off into a gasp as he wrenches your head up off the pillow by your hair, bringing the phone around to put your tear-stained face into frame.

You're helpless to do anything but take every inch he slams inside your puffy cunt, which will no doubt be sore and red by the time Coryo's done with his latest fit. He bends down to whisper in your ear about braindead you look, sobbing with your eyes glazed over and your mouth gaping.

"Shh, that's it, keep going baby. It's all about you, these'll just be fun memories so I can have little parts of you forever, so you could never really leave me."

You never look away from the camera though, and he's suddenly overcome with so much gratitude that he uses his grip on your hair to bring you into a sloppy open-mouthed kiss; your tongues making it so wet you'd think he'd been eating your pussy nonstop with how soaked the lower half of his face gets.

He doesn't let you pull away, the impulsive french kissing only ends so he can lean his head against yours and get into the shot with you. He's smiling so warmly like you're taking a selfie on one of your numerous vacations, but his hips never stop their rough assault on your already thoroughly debauched pussy. Coryo tightens his hold on your hair and pecks your round cheek when you whimper due to the sting.

"Smile, petal."

The videos are kept in a locked folder on his phone titled “💍💒", and while he threatens to show his friends (in actuality he’d only show sejanus in some version of this au where he’s trying to force him into a throuple), he’ll apologize with his tongue swirling around your sensitive nipples once he feels like you’ve learned your lesson. If you’re really upset, he’ll offer to make up to you on his father’s yacht in Greece. (he has your bags packed already)

faetreides 2024. request rules. please consider tipping/reblogging if you enjoyed!

[leulahart]

firstlovelatespring.mp4

[ilguna]

Can you do prompt 11 from aisle 1 with peeta or finnick? Like reader or whoever u choose is almost killed in the games then they get yelled at n stuff🩷🙏

☼ bloody flowers (Peeta Mellark) ☼

warnings; swearing, death, death mention, blood, ehh gore, weapon use. peeta’s mean.

wc; 2.3k

prompt; 11. yelling at them because they thought they’d lose them.

notes; no katniss, roles for mockingjay are reversed.

—

“I’m going to try to tap a tree.” You tell Peeta and Finnick, breaking the silence.

Finnick is on his feet, slowly wading further into the saltwater, carefully rubbing it on his skin to ensure he’s got all the poison out. He barely looks over his shoulder to acknowledge what you’ve said, nodding. He’s having a hard time speaking, his throat is raw from the amount of fog he breathed in.

As you get to your feet, brushing the sand from your skin, Peeta looks over at you, eyebrows drawing in. “Let me make the hole first. You stay with him, you’re better friends.”

“That’s not…” You shake your head, but he’s heading into the jungle, knife in hand.

When you turn your head to look at Finnick—afraid that he’s heard what Peeta said—you can’t find him immediately. You shuffle forward in the sand, eyes searching the water. You spot him beneath the surface, easing your anxiety.

With that, you leave him be. You trust that he won’t accidentally drown himself, since he’s the best swimmer out of your group. And he’s going to need some time alone, after losing Mags to the fog in the jungle.

It was quick, you didn’t even have time to intervene. Finnick saw that you were struggling to carry Mags down the slope, after the two of you had switched, because Peeta was entirely too heavy to be leaning on you for support. In the brief break you took to regain your strength, Mags kissed Finnick goodbye and walked straight into the fog.

What happened didn’t register until Finnick was pulling you to your feet, ordering you to grab one side of Peeta, so the two of you could work together. You don’t have to say anything to Finnick to know that he’s hurt, the look on his face alone is a dead giveaway.

You find your melted jumpsuit strewn in the sand, alongside Finnicks and Peetas. It had been ripped off of you by Peeta, who was so desperate to get you in the water, that he’d forgotten how much it’d hurt being submerged. It could’ve been worse, you weren’t covered in nearly as much of the fog as Finnick had been.

You crouch next to Peeta’s suit, flipping it over to find the mockingjay pin still holding on tightly. You unhook it from his clothes, and move to pin it to the front of your undershirt to hold onto it for him. You then reach to touch the gold necklace to make sure that it’s still hanging around your neck.

The floatation belts seem to have not been affected by the fog at all. They look brand new, actually. You pull it around your waist, buckling it back on. As much as you’d wish to leave it, you’re not the best swimmer in the alliance. Peeta and Finnick are far better, which is why they’ll feel comfortable enough to leave theirs behind.

You stand again, stretching your arms above your head, feeling the soreness throughout your body. And then, you reach to pull the hair tie out to let your hair down, which has been severely damaged by the fog. Barely touching it, clumps come out, stuck between your fingers. The sight is only slightly nauseating. You comb your hair the best you can, watching as the collection grows. When it seems to have slowed, you pull your hair back into a ponytail, and fling the dead hair into the trees.

Speaking of which, Peeta’s found a good one ten yards in from the beach. You can hardly see him through the trees, but the sound of him drilling is unmistakable. You keep an eye on him the best you can, but Finnick splashing around is distracting.

He stretches, slowly, testing his limbs to see if they’re working properly. Gradually, he begins to swim, which is mesmerizing to watch. It’s nothing like the way you were taught to. There’s a rhythm, a pace. He dives, surfaces, rolls like a log of wood in water. He sprays from his mouth, and then he’ll sit underwater for minutes at a time.

When he finally comes back up, he looks better than he did earlier. He pushes his hair out of his face, walking in your direction.

You offer him a smile, “Feeling better?”

“Considerably.” He says, eyes finding the pin on your tank top. He touches it, squinting slightly. “Left the token, huh?”

“He knew I’d grab it.” You wave him off. “Let’s go help him, he’s going to need the spile.”

Finnick leads the way into the jungle, you follow behind him, fiddling with the necklace. He holds the trident to his side, the pole bouncing off his thigh when he takes steps too hard. You briefly look away to pop the locket clasp open, suddenly afraid that the fog might’ve damaged the delicate photos inside. You slam straight into Finnick’s back, having to catch yourself on his shoulder.

A question raises on your tongue, but he presses a finger against his lips to keep you quiet. He looks upward, into the branches that belong to the trees that hang above you lowly. You follow his gaze curiously, and your breath hitches in your throat at the sight of what’s been watching you.

You press your lips together, your left hand falling from your necklace, and your right readjusting the sword in your hand. There’s a mass of orange monkeys weighing down the branches. More than just five or ten, there’s easily two dozen, sitting there, waiting for one wrong move.

This isn’t the first time you’ve seen them. There was a pair of them right after you’d escaped the fog, Peeta had pointed them out. Those ones retreated, not wanting anything to do with the three of you. These ones don’t have any intentions on leaving.

“Peeta,” Your voice wavers slightly, Finnick glances at you. You take a breath, “I need your help with something on the beach.”

“Just a minute (Y/n). I think I’ve just about got it.” He tells you, still occupied with the tree. “Have you got the spile?”

“I do, but we’ve found something you might want to see.” You murmur, noticing how the monkeys are reacting to Peeta’s movements. They don’t care if you move. “Only move toward us quietly, so you don’t startle it.”

“I don’t want to lose the tree.”

“We won’t, we’ll be right back.” You tell him, motioning for him to come toward you.

He lets out a sigh, but listens. You chew on the inside of your cheek, listening to the noise he’s making. Still, the monkeys don’t move, because that’s not what causes them to be aggressive. He’s only five yards from the beach, when his movements become stiff, eyes darting up for a second.

It’s enough. The shrieking begins, as the monkeys all begin to move at an impossible speed to jump at him. They slide down vines, leaping large distances, fangs bared, claws shooting out. One word comes to mind.

“Mutts!” You snap, shoving past Finnick to get to Peeta.

You swing the sword carelessly, hitting the vital parts of the monkeys the best you can with the amount flying out of the trees. When you make it to Peeta, the two of you switch weapons, him slapping the knife into your hand for you to take so he can begin to do real damage with the sword.

Peeta’s got a better technique, bringing down almost as much as Finnick is with the trident. He’ll spear the mutts, and then fling them aside, off into the trees. The three of you form a triangle formation, trying to kill them efficiently. Only, you can’t keep up with your knife, they’re forced to cover you.

You feel a pair of teeth sink into your thigh before Peeta’s slicing through the throat, forcing the jaws to unhinge. The air grows heavy, from the trampled plants, the scent of blood, and the musty stink of the monkey mutts that hound you.

Peeta swings at one of them, and instead of landing the hit, the monkey secures the sword, and throws it into the trees, permanently making it out of the question. Then, it grabs a tight hold of Peeta’s arm, and swings him out of the formation, in the open. Where another monkey spots this, sprinting for the kill.

You begin to run for him, throwing the knife at the mutt that’s racing you. The mutt manages to dodge the attack, and you’re about to throw yourself at Peeta to save him, when someone else beats you to it, first. A woman materializes out of a tree, screaming loudly as she throws herself into the monkey, arms wrapping around its body.

It sinks its fangs into her chest.

Finnick’s trident hits the monkey with such force that it makes a loud squelching sound when the trident collides with its body. The mutt releases its jaw, Peeta kicking the body off.

“Come on, then!” Peeta shouts. “Come on!”

The mutts don’t seem to be interested anymore, retreating into the trees the same way they had done before. You reach to grab Peeta, hands shaking, when he suddenly points toward the beach, eyes hard.

“Go.”

Your mouth pops open, eyebrows drawing in, but you don’t argue, walking the five yards out of the jungle, onto the beach. The two boys follow behind you, with Finnick carrying the woman, who you’re able to recognize as the morphling from District Six, when you get a good look at her.

Finnick lays her in the sound, and Peeta follows behind him with your knife. He kneels next to her, cutting open the wetsuit that covers her chest, revealing the four deep wounds. Her blood is slowly emerging out of them, staining her skin. You’d say she’s fine, if it weren’t for the damage the monkeys did inside of her body.

She’s gasping for air, struggling to breathe. This could mean a punctured lung, maybe even her heart. Her skin is shaded a sickly green, sagging to reveal each one of her ribs. This is caused by years of abusing the pain medication.

She takes your hand shakily, squeezing tightly to ground herself. You lean over her, moving the hair out of her face.

“I’ll watch the trees.” Finnick says before walking away.

Peeta settles in the sand, voice soft, “With my paint box at home, I can make every color imaginable. Pink. As pale as a baby’s skin. Or as deep as rhubarb. Green like spring grass. Blue that shimmers like ice on water.”

She stares at Peeta, hanging on to every word.

“One time, I spent three days mixing paint until I found the right shade for sunlight on white fur. You see, I kept thinking it was yellow, but it was much more than that. Layers of all sorts of color. One by one.”

Her breathing is growing shallow, calming, dying. Her free hand dips into the wound on her chest, touching the blood as she swirls it on her skin, the same way she had in the Training Center.

“I haven’t figured out a rainbow yet. They come so quickly and leave so soon. I never have enough time to capture them. Just a bit of blue here or purple there. And then they fade away again. Back into the air.”

She lifts up the bloodied hand, painting a flower on Peeta’s cheek.

“Thank you,” He whispers. “That looks beautiful.”

Her face lights up, as she makes a small squeaking sound. And then her hand falls back onto her chest, giving out her last huff of air. The cannon fires. Her hand loosens in yours.

You sit there in the sand, watching as Peeta carries her into the water, carefully settling her on her back. She floats toward the Cornucopia, and when the Gamemakers are sure she’s a good distance away, the hovercraft appears to take her away. The claw drops, carrying her into the night sky, and she’s gone.

You get to your feet when Peeta comes back your way, but with the look on his face, you’re not exactly eager to touch him.

“What were you thinking?” He asks you. “Running at me like that. Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

Your mouth opens as you shake your head. “I—the mutt was coming right for you, I thought—”

“You thought what, (Y/n)? You were going to kill it with this?” He asks, holding your knife out for you to see. It’s stained red, sand sticking to the blood that refuses to dry. “Oh no, that’s right, you threw it at the mutt.”

You stare at him. “I’m sorry, okay?”

“No, not okay!” he shouts. “Were you even thinking?”

“I just—”

“I don’t need you trying to be the hero.” He tells you. “I had it handled.”

“I’m sorry, Peeta.”

“Don’t do it again.” He says, shaking his head. “It’s hard enough keeping you safe when you’re not running into danger. So don’t start doing it on purpose.”

“I won’t.”

He looks over your face, judging whether or not you’re being truthful, when his eyes dip toward your chest. His face smooths, holding his hand out, palm up. “Give me the pin.”

Wordlessly, you unhook it from the cloth and place it in his hand. “I didn’t want to lose it.”

“That’s fine.” He says, closing the distance between the two of you. He directs your chin up carefully, raising his eyebrows. “You know I love you.”

“I know.” You whisper. “I’ll be more careful.”

He presses a kiss to the middle of your forehead. “That’s all I ask.”

—

this is part of my 3k celebration!! you can join until the cure is released on October 31st, at midnight!! everyone is welcome to join :)

[chmpgneprblem]

Lucy Gray and reader singing together, please?

INVISIBLE STRING ; LUCY GRAY BAIRD

pairing: lucy gray baird x covey!reader (not related) summary: lucy gray pitches a song to you, you don’t seem to realize what it’s about until you sing it with her on stage warnings: reader being oblivious (and jealous), mentioned that reader is fem a/n: i did change a lot of the lyrics but it's to fit the plot!! word count: 1.0k join taglist!!

Lucy Gray proposed a new song to you. “It’s kind of lovey-dovey… but I think we should play it tomorrow at the Hob.” She was nervous, only looking at you for a quick second before staring at her feet the rest of the time. What could she be so nervous about? “Well play it for me!” You beamed at her and shoved her shoulder. She grabbed her guitar from beside her and started to play for you.

The melodic notes that came out of the guitar awed you as she played. Her sweet voice blended well with background noises of the guitar, it had you mesmerized.

And isn’t it just so pretty to think? All along there was some invisible string, tying you to me.

You recognized the saying from something Maude Ivory had told you once. She had brought it up while they watched a couple dance as Lucy Gray sang. “It’s this belief I read about. It’s a string tying soulmates together, it means that the universe wants you to be together. Almost like it’s written in the stars.”

As Lucy Gray sang to you, you couldn’t help but wonder who she was singing about. “It’s probably about that peacekeeper friend of hers…” You got a stab in your ribs but from what? Jealousy? Maybe. You hadn’t thought of it before but as she was nearing the end of the song, the pain got worse.

She sang the last chorus, her voice still smooth as she sang the same lyrics; this time with a key change on the guitar. She sang oohs and ahhs while she continued to play the relaxing melody. She ended the song with a nervous smile on her face.

She began to ask you shyly, “So what do you-” You cut her off, “It’s amazing Lucy Gray, we should get the others together, so we can practice it.” You told with a smile, despite the feeling of jealousy deep within you. She blushed at your praise as she muttered a quiet, “Thanks,” You left her with a smile as you went to gather the rest of the Covey.

Something wrapped all of my past mistakes in barbed wire. Chains around my demons, wool to brave the seasons. One single thread of gold tied me to you.

You were jealous. What did he have that you didn’t? You loved Lucy Gray, you had loved her since you first met her in the hob years ago. You just didn’t know if she felt the same.

Just like every night, you and the Covey played at the Hob. But this night was different, they were playing a new song.

You and the rest of the Covey got onto the stage. Lucy Gray strutted up to the mic with an excited smile. She turned to you to give a nod, a way of telling you it was time to start. You passed the nod onto the rest of the Covey. Maude Ivory gave a thumbs up to you then looked over to Lucy Gray with a knowing smile. What were they planning?

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Lucy Gray’s voice. “Hello everybody, It’s so great to see you!” She spoke to them with her usual charm. 

As she spoke to the crowd, you scanned around. That peacekeeper boy wasn’t here. Guess he won’t get to hear her song.

“Tonight we’re gonna start with a new one, I call it ‘invisible string’” She told the crowd, grabbing a tambourine while Tam Amber started playing the banjo. You joined in a little after he did on the guitar, Barb Azure playing her fiddle not long after you.

Black was the color of your shirt when you were sixteen at the local bar you used to work at to make a little money.

The lyrics sounded familiar. You looked around at the rest of the Covey to see them with grinning faces. Was this song about you? Surely not, so you just pushed it to the side as you continued to play guitar along with her.

And isn’t it just so pretty to think all along there was some invisible string tying you to me.

Lucy Gray sang the chorus, turning to you with a smile as you harmonized together; you were doing a slightly higher pitch than her. You smiled back, as if nobody else was there but her.

Pure was the snow in the song in the bar when you had first met me.

She turned back to the crowd as she sang the second verse. It was about you. You get brought back to that day from the mention of it. 

You had walked in to do your usual bartending shift, not expecting much entertainment but were pleasantly surprised to see a band playing. The main singer, Lucy Gray, was the most beautiful woman you had ever seen. She seemed to be smiling at someone in the crowd as she sang. She turned as she continued to sing and saw you standing there, in awe from her voice and beauty.

A string that pulled me out of all the wrong arms, right into that dive bar. Something wrapped all of my past mistakes in barbed wire. 

You looked at her, and suddenly you were that same awestruck girl from back when you were just a bartender at the Hob. She looked back at you with loving eyes, you thought your knees were going to buckle, but you stood up straighter.

As the final chorus came up, Lucy Gray put down the tambourine to start snapping her fingers to the beat as she sang with you.

And isn’t it just so pretty to think? All along there was some invisible string, tying you to me.

You changed the key on your guitar as you two started to sing the same oohs and ahhs she had sung to you just the night before. Her voice was as smooth as honey while your higher and slightly gravelly voice harmonized with hers. Your opposite tones mixed perfectly together.

Your spirits matched with your voices, made for one another. You left the Hob that night with Lucy Gray on your arm knowing that you two really were written in the stars.